#I just don’t think ​people are lame for being caught off guard by something disturbing that they didn’t expect

[milfglupshitto]

I think it’s inherently a little ridiculous to insist that certain topics are too uncomfortable for horror, which is famously the Genre That Makes You Uncomfortable. I also think there exists for each individual a list of concepts that make them uncomfortable in a thought-provoking and even disquietingly reflective way as well as a list of concepts that make them uncomfortable in a skin-crawling throat-itching sick-to-stomach i-can’t-handle-this way. so to this end I think it is a little bit more than a little ridiculous to insist on one universal list of acceptable and unacceptable categories of Personal Uncomfort. and this is why I will always be a staunch advocate for and (as best I can) diligent provider of content warnings

[wavesmp3]

you jump; i jump

sunwoo x reader 

requested from sensory prompts #46: the waver in someone’s voice when they’re stressed genre: spy au, exes (ish) to lovers wc: 5.6k  warnings: cursing, tiny bit of gore/blood

Sunwoo used to pride himself for being able to keep his cool, in even the most unimaginable situations. He kept his exterior when Haknyeon turned out to be double crossing their agency, Creker, and secretly sending information to a rivaling one the whole time. Sunwoo didn’t crack when his entire mission in Sydney blew up right in his fucking face, never even flinched when his gear malfunctioned dumping him in a hospital for a week. But all those instances seem to fall flat now. All the times where Sunwoo stayed strong seem to disappear the moment he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around only to come face to face with you. “What are you-“ he falters, grasping at the last bits of crumbling pride and hanging on to the dip in his voice. “What are you doing here?” 

“You forgot this,” you continue, ignoring him entirely, “forgot it in Vienna specifically.” You dangle a watch in front of his face. The same watch he lost somewhere in Austria three months ago, at the same time that he was in the middle of the most intense and longest mission the agency had ever given him, and more notably, around the same time he met you. “Don’t look so shocked.” You scoff when he fails to respond. “You told me you were gonna be here.” 

Sunwoo laughs, except it’s less of a laugh and more of an exhale of pure disbelief. “I know what I said, but you’re…” his voice trails off, some part of him unable to finish the sentence and another part of him still too disturbed to believe it. 

You tilt your head with faux confusion. “I’m what?”

Sunwoo gulps. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

VIENNA, AUSTRIA  THREE MONTHS AGO 

Sunwoo remembers, with a starling amount of clarity, all that happened three months ago. He can recall every day he spent roaming the streets of Vienna with you despite the way he’s been trying to drown out the memories and douse his lingering feelings. 

When he met you at a pub on one of his first nights there, he told himself he entertained your conversation because, well, to put it bluntly, he thought you were cute. Although the small tug in his gut doesn’t help justify why he found himself stumbling back to his hotel room with you by his side. And there’s really no good excuse for the tiny sting of disappointment Sunwoo feels when he wakes up alone the next morning. 

It’s two days after that night when Sunwoo sees you again, sitting on a bench with a book in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. It’s an odd coincidence that he should see you in Vienna again, but the small pang of doubt is quickly replaced with a more promising burst of elation. Sunwoo can’t tell if it’s exhilarating or terrifying.

“Ah,” you mutter when you notice him approaching, “Sunwoo right?” It’s a facade, Sunwoo thinks to himself, he knows you remember his name, knows you only pretend to forget. But he doesn’t mention that, instead he nods rather lamely, shoving his fists into his pockets and burying away the voice of reason in the back of his head telling him this is a mistake. “Sit.” You say, moving your things to the other side of the bench and patting the now empty spot next to you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And in retrospect, it’s quite obvious that Sunwoo should have found the words alarming. Really, he should have begun to put his guard up the second he spotted you in Vienna again. But at that moment in time, the only thing Sunwoo can think to ask is if he was worth the wait. 

Your tongue darts out, swiping at your bottom lip in thought for the smallest of seconds, before disappearing into your mouth again. “Yeah,” you say, lips turning up into an intrigued smile, “you were.” 

—

Sunwoo doesn’t think much of the way he comes to trust you so easily, telling you the truth about his job in the darkness of the hotel room. He doesn’t think anything of the way you hang onto his every word without ever sharing much about yourself. And when one day, you sit down at the cafe booth across from him and ask, “what’s your current mission,” Sunwoo doesn’t think twice before telling you everything about his objective to infiltrate Pegasus. He also doesn’t notice the phone call you make soon after. 

—

When the truth does come out, it comes fast, like water rushing off a cliff and crashing into Sunwoo sitting unsuspecting at the bottom. It comes in the form of a charity event that he only attends as part of the mission which sent him to Vienna to begin with. The truth arrives, like a rock in his gut, at the same second that Sunwoo sees you across the hall. You, who he last saw at the hotel, and you, who’s supposed to be on a train to Paris right now. And when your eyes finally catch his, there’s something unmistakable swimming in them. You’ve been caught, Sunwoo thinks, finally placing a name to the familiar way you swallow and dart your eyes around the room. Sunwoo recognizes the feeling, vaguely remembers the rush he felt once in Santiago and again in New York. 

“I can explain,” you hiss, quiet and breathless, finding him outside the hall after a few minutes. 

And Sunwoo knows he should be dying for an explanation of what you’re doing here or who you’re really working with. Some small part of Sunwoo knows that he should already be replaying every conversation and trying to determine how much information he’s given you to use against him. But another, larger part of him, that’s poking at his heart and prodding at his brain, chooses to stare at your lying eyes, study the face he’s come to memorize, and lamely ask, “how much of…” his voice tapers off, gesturing to the empty space in between you two, “of this was a lie?”

You don’t respond, but in the silence Sunwoo finds the answer anyways. 

All of it.

—

It’s not long after that night that a new message from the case officer shows up for him.  

You’re on thin ice. New mission: get rid of that Pegasus agent. 

PRESENT TIME  THREE MONTHS AFTER VIENNA

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here?” Sunwoo asks you again, shifting in his plastic red chair and keeping his gaze focused on the street you’re both seated beside. He hadn’t planned on hanging out after crossing paths with you earlier today. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but when you offer him a meal in exchange for a conversation, his rumbling stomach agrees before he can even consider the offer. The scene you lead him to is a busy one, filled with people rushing down the road and bustling behind each of the food stalls. It’s a mosh-posh of neon signs, kicked up dust, and the aroma of food being fried. More importantly, it’s a loud area, one where you and Sunwoo can talk freely without the worry of being heard by someone seated nearby. He takes a bite into his skewer, waiting for your response. 

“And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t follow through with the mission,” you counter, twirling your lime green straw with the tip of your finger. “The one where you were supposed to kill me.” 

You say it plainly, but something in Sunwoo’s stomach turns hard at the reminder anyways. “We’re spies,” he mutters behind clenched teeth, “not assassins.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, taking a sip from your coke, “the job description is pretty vague.” 

The words are met with a taut silence, a snap of Sunwoo’s eyes towards yours, and a search for any implication of murder behind the sentence. 

“It’s a joke,” you choke, wiping the coke that slips from your mouth and quickly shaking your head, “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Well anyways,” Sunwoo continues, “I tried to finish the mission. Even hired someone to find you.” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunwoo realizes he’s told you too much, realizes he’s let the truth slip too easily--again. Biting his lip, he thinks this must be what people mean when they say ‘old habits die hard’. 

“He didn’t follow through.” You tell him as if to fill him in on how exactly you’re still alive and sitting across from him right here, right now, miles away from Vienna and months after Sunwoo’s hire took his money and ran. “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

And this you say with a taunting smile, catching his eyes like there’s a private joke concealed behind them. Sunwoo only gulps and pulls his focus back to the busy street.

“So what do you want with me?”

“I left Pegasus.” You answer, clearing your throat.

Sunwoo waits. He waits for you to take it back, for you to laugh at his widened eyes and say it’s a joke. The punchline never comes. “You’re an idiot.” He settles on.

“And I’ve got two agencies who’d prefer me to be dead right about now.” You grimace. “But despite the bounty on my head, I’m still here which means you’re probably not on great terms with Creker either.”

“Get to the point.”

“We both have people who want us dead. We both have next to nothing to lose at this point. So let’s team up.” You pause, checking Sunwoo’s reaction. He watches you intently, body pushing against the creaking plastic table in an attempt to hear you better. With an almost mischievous glint in your eyes and a satisfied quirk, you continue: “Let’s take back what we stole for them.”

There’s a long moment where Sunwoo just stares at you, deciphering what to make of the proposition. You appear genuine, Sunwoo decides leaning away from the table until his back hits the chair, but Sunwoo isn’t exactly sure how much he trusts his own judgement considering the last time he decided you were sincere you had been lying to him left and right.

Sunwoo lifts his hand to the vendor of the food stall you’re sitting by. The previous glint in your eyes is gone, overshadowed by a darker shade of doubt. “What are you doing?” you finally ask, voice lower and less excited than it had been a second ago.

With a tired sigh, he replies, “I’m gonna need more food while you explain your plan.”

Sunwoo has to swallow back the smile that nearly emerges at how happy you get.

--

It’s a simple enough idea. Clear our names, you had explained, wipe ourselves entirely from both agencies. And it’ll work too, Sunwoo realizes when you begin the second explanation on the logistics of the whole operation. The only downside to your plan is you. Because the last person Sunwoo wants to start a new mission with is the same person who broke his heart three months ago. And it’s bothersome, almost, how calm you are and how collected you appear, especially compared to how scattered Sunwoo feels just to be around you again.

“What do you think?” You ask once you’ve explained your plan completely, tapping anxiously on the table.

“I think,” Sunwoo starts, inhaling deeply, “you’ve thought about this way too much.”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gulping down some more coke, “three months is kind of a long time.”

And yeah, he thinks, it is. But despite the time that’s passed since you’ve last seen each other and despite the way Sunwoo thought he was over you, his stomach still flips each time you look his way. He just prays that the past three months have at least somewhat watered down how he used to feel about you.

“How do I know you won’t ditch me after we clear you?” Sunwoo asks, pushing away the thoughts of lingering heartache to a corner of his mind.

“We’ll do you first.” You state simply. “Steal your file off Creker and get the bounty off your head first. Then we’ll do me.”

“And then how do you know that I won’t ditch you?”

You falter at that, frowning for the smallest of seconds, then say, “I don’t.”

Sunwoo nods, pretending to contemplate your offer. But in all transparency, Sunwoo knew he’d agree to your plan despite the bile that turns up at your name because with the way he’s been hiding in a crappy motel and eating instant ramen every night, it’s kind of hard to refuse any proposition that gives him the slightest chance at an out from Creker. 

“Okay,” he finally utters, wiping the crumbs of his second skewer off his hands, “let’s do it.” You meet his eyes expectantly. Nodding, he says,

“Let’s team up.”

//

You and Sunwoo clash more than anything else on the first day of prepping for the mission, crammed in a corner of Sunwoo’s dingy motel with two half finished cans of red bull sitting forgotten on the table, fighting about even the smallest details.

“I know the building,” Sunwoo argues, pointing to the floor plan you have pulled up on your laptop, “and this is the entrance we should use.”

“But using this entrance,” you refute, dragging your finger across the screen to show him exactly what you mean, “will give us better access to security and admin. And trust me, I know the building better than you do.”

“How do you—” Sunwoo stills. Something seems to register in your eyes at that moment as well, a small recognition of the tiny slip up, a barely audible acknowledgement that comes in the form of a cough. And all at once, Sunwoo’s reminded of the time he spent spilling his heart to you in Vienna under more covers than he was aware of. Sunwoo’s harshly thrown against the realization that you must’ve been watching him, surveying him long before you ever found him in that Austrian pub.

“See, I knew this wouldn’t work.” He grumbles, shaking his head. “You know too much about me. No, actually, you know everything about me. And I--” there’s a dip in his tone, “I know nothing about you.”

“Fine then, ask.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you think will even the playing field between us. Whatever it is you want to know about me,” you shut the laptop and turn your body to face him completely, an action that exudes largely frustration but more faintly, guilt, “just ask.”

--

Sunwoo learns more about you than he had intended to. He learns about the origin of the scar that runs along your spine. A fucked up operation in Shanghai, you tell him, writing over the lie you told him three months ago about it being from your childhood. He learns about your old partner Younghoon and about the shadow falling over your forehead at the sound of his name. He’s told about how you got involved with Pegasus to begin with, a similar story to Sunwoo’s beginning with Creker: an unlucky concoction of desperation and coincidence. You tell him, with reluctance, your most embarrassing story, followed by a long list of firsts and favorites. So by the time night falls, with two empty red bulls at the foot of the bed and the building’s floor plan now forgotten behind the black screen of your laptop, Sunwoo learns enough to rebuild a fraction of the trust he lost.

//

Everything goes smoother after that. You and Sunwoo seem to fall into a rhythm, meeting at a café in the morning and at the motel in the afternoon, planning out the missions with far less difficulty than before. A rather quick adjustment, from both of your ends, and an even faster allocation of responsibilities. He finds himself looking forward to sitting in front of your open laptop each day and conjuring new ways to distract you every hour. 

And it’s after meeting up with you one night, not as partners but—perhaps more cruelly—as friends, that a dangerously familiar warmth blooms in his chest and refuses to wilt away when he sees you again the next day. Sunwoo knows that he should be doing something, anything to blow out the flame, but instead he feeds the fire and prays that this time it spreads from his heart to yours.

//

“Where’d you get all of this?” Sunwoo questions one day when you show up at the motel with a suitcase full of equipment. An assortment of laptops, earpieces, weapons, and randomly picked gadgets.

“Took it from Pegasus before I left,” you smirk, pulling out an earpiece and holding it out in front of his ear. “You’re usually on the field, right? The one in action?” He nods. “Good, you can be the agent for this mission then,” you mumble, setting down the earpiece and holding up another. “I’m usually the person behind the computer anyways. Was even a handler for a mission in Seoul once.” You place the earpiece in his palm and begin to pull out the other pieces of equipment from the suitcase.

“What about Vienna?” Sunwoo says, inspecting a certain gadget from the case. “You were on the field then.” And it’s a question that would’ve been asked with malice if it had come up a couple weeks ago, but right now, there’s nothing but curiosity behind Sunwoo’s words.

“Oh,” you hesitate, a small smile appearing briefly, “I guess I do both.”

Sunwoo doesn’t ponder over your answer for long.

It’s later that day, right as you’re about to leave, that you frown at Sunwoo’s head, matter-of-factly saying, “you should change your hair before the mission.” Then, with a laugh bubbling behind your teeth, you add, “again.”

(Sunwoo changed his appearance a lot. One of the tactics that had stuck from his training days. Never really in big ways, but small changes here and there every couple of months. Sometimes it was a new piercing that he’d wear for a year and let close up in the next, and other times the change came in the form of a temporary tattoo imprinted on his neck whilst in Vancouver with Kevin. When Sunwoo met you in Vienna his hair was a light brown that he had gotten done in Tokyo and hadn’t bothered to touch up since. So when the time had come to change something again, he headed to the hair salon.

“When’d you do this?” you asked him that night, running a hand through the new red hair. 

“Just today.” He answered, hoping you wouldn’t ask for a reason. 

“I like it.” 

“More than the brown?”

“Way more.” You whispered, leaning in until he felt the breath of your words on his lips. 

And in the moment before you closed the distance, Sunwoo had made a silent vow to never change his hair again.)

Sunwoo gets his hair done the day after you suggest it, and when he returns to the motel from the salon, he finds you already there.

“Oh good, you’re back.” You mumble, arms full and an extra key card to his room that he had given you out of convenience a while back held between your teeth. “I just came to drop these off because I have to go to—" you stop, straightening yourself and eyes fixated on him. “You got your hair done.”

It’s an observation, a small, stupid thing really. A comment made in passing that should feel routine with as much time as you and Sunwoo spend together and one that should feel even more mundane considering you were the one to suggest it. But there’s something about the way you say the words that makes Sunwoo feel slightly breathless anyways. “Yeah,” he finally affirms, running a hand through his now black hair, “I did.”

You nod in acknowledgement, setting the things in your hands down, then turn to leave. 

“Wait,” he calls out. You do, pausing three paces away from the door and give a long look to the hand he’s placed on your arm to stop you before turning around to face him. And the next words seem to fall off the edge of Sunwoo’s mouth at that moment, tumbling back down his throat and landing heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Do you still…” he hesitates, attempting to smooth over the nervousness folding up in the corners of his mind. 

“What?” 

“Do you still like my hair?”

You consider it for a moment, bringing a hand up to tug at the new black fringe. And there’s something unmistakably domestic about the way you tilt your head in concentration, eyes fixed on Sunwoo’s hair as if there’s nothing more important for you to be doing in this moment. He watches you evaluate his hair closely. 

“Yeah,” you finally say, eyes meeting his and something like a double meaning swimming in them, “I still like it.”

//

The first mission goes smoothly thanks to you sitting back at the motel instructing Sunwoo which turns to take and what files to download. So with a flash drive containing all the information he needs to free himself from the agency stuffed in his pocket, he turns to leave, whispering into his earpiece, “is the exit path clear?”

“Shit.”

He stops walking. “What?”

“It’s blocked. I think I can get you out another way, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, go one story below. Take two rights and then a left.” He does as you say, feet hitting the ground as quietly and as quickly as possible. The less time he spends in the building the better. “At the end of the hall, there’s a window.” You say once he’s near the place you directed him too. His stomach drops. “Jump from it.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, studying the drop with grimace. “I really hate heights.”

“I know.” And there’s a misplaced softness when Sunwoo hears you mutter, “I remember.” You wait a beat. “Do you trust me?” 

“Do I trust you?” He echoes, dread and disbelief coating his words. “I don’t even—”

“Just answer the question, Sunwoo. Do you?”

“I—” he studies the drop again, thinks and overthinks the newfound steadiness in your voice. Quietly, he mumbles, “yeah.”

“Then jump.” You tell him how exactly to do it as well, where to find the rope you packed and which hook is best to use. He does as you say, preparing for a jump he hasn’t decided to take yet. And once everything is prepared, the only thing that passes between you and Sunwoo on the intercom is silence. “Hey,” you mutter after a long while, something like a joke audible in your voice, “you jump; I jump, jack.”

“Except you aren’t jumping.”

“Technically, yes, that’s true but—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up.” Sunwoo inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting silence fill the intercom again. The silence, however, is interrupted the second he hears a group of voices travelling from somewhere down the hall. His eyes snap open.

“Sunwoo—”

“Fuck it.”

He jumps.

— 

“You’re bleeding.” Is the first thing Sunwoo hears when he walks through the motel room’s door, quickly followed by you rushing to him, tilting his head with a finger against his chin, and inspecting the cut above his eyebrow. 

“Yeah well your little jump stunt didn’t make for the smoothest of landings.” 

He means it as a joke. A bad one he realizes when you pull your hand away, eyes dropping from his face and guilt hanging over your head. “Sorry about that.” 

He shrugs. “It didn’t kill me.” 

“Come on,” you beckon, grabbing the first aid kit and heading to the bathroom, “I’ll help you bandage them.” 

Sunwoo sits on top of the closed toilet lid, folding up his pant leg to examine the gash running across his shin. The cut, he realizes, isn’t nearly as bad as it feels, but you make a small face at the sight of it anyways. It doesn’t take you very long to clean the cut on his leg, quickly finishing it while kneeling on the cold bathroom tile and asking him questions about the mission.

“No stitches?” He wonders when you pat a bandage in place.

You shake your head. “You should be fine. Nothing more than a gloried scrape really.” You add teasingly while rearranging the objects in the first aid kit. And when you laugh at the look he gives you for the comment, Sunwoo does his best to ignore the fluttering that appears in his gut at the sound. 

You move on from the cut on his leg, placing the first aid kid on top of the counter and poking the bruise that’s forming above his knee before getting up yourself. He smacks your hand away.

“How’d you know about my fear of heights by the way?”

“You told me one night in Vienna.” You answer, tearing open an alcohol wipe packet. “Do you not remember?”

He shakes his head.

Frowning, you let out a small, “oh.”

Neither of you say anything after that. And Sunwoo’s so focused on the frown that’s yet to leave your face that he barely registers the way you lean towards him for better access, propping your knee on top of the toilet and between his legs for balance. Although he does notice the warmth that radiates off your body. And a minute after that, he notices how much longer it takes you to clean this, smaller cut than it took to clean the one on his leg.

“Sorry.” You quickly apologize when you press against the cut too harshly. Sunwoo waves you off. “I am sorry though.” You repeat, seriously, lips still turned down in a frown and brows knit together.

“It’s really fine.” He chuckles, amused by the amount of gravity in the apology. 

“No. For Vienna.” The amusement dies in the back of his throat. “I never apologized for…” you falter there, fingers paused against his forehead, “for that. But I am sorry.”

“It was your mission.” Sunwoo gulps. “You were being a good agent.”

“And a shitty person.” You say, no hint of a joke laced in the statement. “In fact, the mission was just to observe you. Make sure you didn’t find out anything too important about Pegasus. Meeting you was mostly on accident. And everything that followed,” you bite your lip, and Sunwoo can’t tell if you’re biting back a smile or a frown, “all those other parts just sort of came naturally.”

The flame in his chest from before bursts into a bonfire, filling his lungs with a hopeful smoke. “Naturally?” He echoes.

“Yeah,” you repeat, tongue darting out in concentration while you complete the last step of smoothing out the bandage. You don’t lean away when you finish. You don’t remove your knee from between his legs. Don’t pull away the hand you have holding back his hair or the one resting against the side of his face. Nothing but your eyes move, trailing down until they find his, visibly gulping, then wandering further below. “Naturally.”

And the word is like a spell, lifting his chin and drawing him towards you until his lips are brushing against yours. It’s barely a kiss, a small hesitant press of lips that lasts no longer than a second, but one that has Sunwoo’s heart pounding wildly in a way it never did three months ago. He pauses there, lips unmoving and hovering just below yours, waiting for you.

You don’t move. Neither leaning in nor away. His gaze flickers up to your eyes, finds them half open, focused on the upper curve of his lip. He captures your lips between his again, a second attempt that is met with response when you lean into it, inhaling him in for a tiny blissful moment and exhaling him out in the next, pushing him back by the shoulders and stepping away yourself.

“I should…”

“Fuck.”

“I should go.”

And you’re gone before he can say anything else. 

// 

The kiss is ignored by both of you while prepping for the second half of the mission. A silent agreement to act like it never even happened and another one to not discuss whatever misplaced feelings led to it. It’s almost sickening how easily you and Sunwoo fall back into being just partners. Especially considering the fact that Sunwoo’s feelings haven’t faded, the bonfire in his chest still burning with the same brightness. So Sunwoo spends his days with you, attempting to put out the fire between his lungs, and he spends his nights alone, replaying the kiss you both pretend to ignore.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” You mutter on the last night, a trail of anxiousness slipping off your tongue. “And then we’ll be done.” 

Sunwoo only nods, watching how your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and mulling over whether you mean done with the mission or done with him.

--

The Pegasus mission doesn’t go nearly as smoothly as the Creker one, complications toppling around Sunwoo from the moment he begins. They start small first: a locked door resulting in a change of entry and a janitor straggling in a hallway that should have been clear. He makes it to his first destination eventually, quickly shuffling through the room of file cabinets until he finds your physical files, slipping them into his bag, and heading to the next room with you whispering directions into his ear. The next room is empty when Sunwoo arrives. He works quick, bypassing the security system and fingers flying across to find your information.

“Faster.” He hears you mutter over the earpiece. A hasty reminder of what you had told him earlier that week: the room never stays empty for long.

“Got it.” He exhales, finally pinpointing your files and beginning the process of downloading and deleting them.

“Sunwoo,” he hears an elevator ding from somewhere outside the room at the same time he hears you, “someone’s coming.”

He doesn’t move. Keeping one eye on the closed door and the other on the still-pending status of your files. “I’m almost done.”

“If you leave now, they won’t see you.” Voices fill the hall. “But you have to leave now.”

“I’m not done yet.”

The voices move closer, louder. “It’s not worth it. Please, just go!”

He hears them behind the door. “It’s you.”

There’s a jingle of keys. “How will you—”

“Hey,” the door unlocks with a click, “you jump; I jump, right?”

“Sunwoo—”

He pulls the earpiece out at the exact moment that the door swings open.

-- 

The rooftop is obscenely pretty at this hour, with the golden sun partly hidden by a high-rise building but still growing in the distance, scattering its light across the sky, and casting a golden shadow on everything it touches. It’s a gorgeous sight, and yet, there’s no one but Sunwoo here to appreciate it.

“You’re okay.”

He whips around only to find you standing on the rooftop with him, body trembling and hands clasped over your mouth. Behind you, the door to the roof is still falling closed. Your eyes are red, dark circles hanging under them that make it look as if you haven’t slept days. Silently, Sunwoo wonders how he’s just now noticing your sudden restlessness, and a small part of him hopes—no prays that whatever’s chasing your sleep away is the same thing chasing his.

“I got it.” He says, pulling out the flash drive he stayed to retrieve. Your eyes never flicker off his. “How’d you find me?”

“How’d you get out?”

Neither of you answer. Instead, you begin to walk towards him, asking if he’s hurt with a voice that’s too soft and too concerned for Sunwoo to make out an answer. You ask it again.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in front of him. Close enough for Sunwoo to see the tears welled up in your eyes. “You’re okay.” You repeat, voice wavering with a sudden gust of wind.

“I am, but I—” he hesitates; you take a step towards him, “I miss you.” He succumbs to the fire in his chest; lets it fill his lungs, burn up his throat, and throw the sentence, “I just miss you so much,” out of his mouth without bothering to hide the crack in it.

He meets your eyes and finds a starling amount of clarity in them. “I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You laugh at that, nodding your head and stepping closer to him again. “I missed you before we ever met.”

He stares at you. For too long probably. Watches a smile grace your features, spreading like a fire. The flame feels familiar. And for the first time since seeing you after Vienna, Sunwoo doesn’t have to hold back the urge to ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He does. Lips crashing into yours, and you meeting the motion halfway, leaning into his lips, his body, him. A fervent want present in the way you pull at his neck and grab onto the collar of his shirt that would’ve probably been surprising if it wasn’t matched completely by him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and deepening the kiss for a second more.

You both pull away, just barely, faces still close and bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey,” you begin, breath hot against his lips and a knowing smirk appearing briefly, “was I worth the wait?”

And suddenly Sunwoo’s in Vienna again, sitting on a bench, and asking you the same question.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “you were.”

//

a/n: i apologize this request took me forever to get around too. and if the actual spy aspects to this fic make zero sense then my bad i was spit balling here. brownie points if u can find the scene inspired by queens gambit and the other scene inspired by the office lmao

[boognish-worshipper]

Midnight City AU

i’ve been having fun writing this story, all these lil snippets n pieces comin together n shit,,, but i also find myself getting so frustrated writing sometimes even tho ik that’s a given with literally creating anything 😭 anyway uhhhh scheming shit ensues in this chapter, and we see another familiar pal pop up 🙏 also included obligatory reference to those aesthetic photos with song lyrics 🏃‍♀️💥

//Chapter 2: Oblivion

The vinyl store was a short walk from Sterling Lake, but Ron and Trevor decided to run there like idiots. Trevor was out of breath by the time they got there placing his hands on his knees, while Ron looked ready to keel over and pass out, pressing a hand against the front of the store.

“Remind me why we chose to run here?”

“So we could,” Ron wheezed out a breath, inhaling deep to stable himself.

“So we could hurry up and get Wade.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“Right. Sorry Trevor.”

Trevor swung the door open hastily, calling out for Wade right away. A head with muddy locs popped up in their direction.

“Hey Trevor! Hi Ron!”

“Wade! Get over here, no time for pleasantries!”

Wade rushed over to meet them outside.

“Get out of my G-damn store Trevor!”

“I’m going, Debra. Say hi to lovely Floyd for me, will ya?”

“Get out!”

The trio walked away from the place, not knowing where to head next.

“Let’s go talk in my truck, where we won’t be… disturbed by any fuckwad wearing Andés brand sherpa jackets. Why do they even need jackets out here? It’s like 90 degrees all the time!”

He was parked across the way from Sterling Lake, and as he went, he tried his best to avoid running into the clique of phony fucks. The minute they all piled in, Trevor peeled out so loudly it was surprising he tried being discrete at all.

“So, Ron. Fill Wade in.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s the Merryweather Night Club.”

“Ooh, are we goin’ in to see them pretty girls dance?”

“No, Wade.” Trevor interjected.

“Then what-“

“It’s about Steve.”

“Who?”

Trevor impatiently shot out a breath, trying his best to breakdown the situation to Wade. He put a hand to his face briefly before speaking again.

“Haines, Wade. Steven fuckin’ Haines.”

“Ohh him! That fancy dude at the park.”

“Yeah. The fancy dude at the park.”

“What about him?”

“Well Ron here caught word that Devin Weston is hosting some big event there for Haines and his crew.”

“We invited or somethin’?”

“For fucks sake- No, Wade. We’re gonna plan out how to completely crash and wreck the party, so we can get that club the fuck out of here.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Well first, we’re gonna scope the place out. Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

Trevor thought to himself that if he didn’t have a good look from the outside, that’d he’d have to get a layout of the floor plans himself. It’s not like he hadn’t visited the club before, but he hadn’t been… sober exactly when he dropped by those few times. So it was basically like seeing it for the first time. If he couldn’t get much from the outside, he knew only one person who could accomplish getting the layout of the place.

“We’re almost there, get ready to do some creeping boys.”

The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark out. And when it got dark in Los Santos, it got dark. The only way the city could be visible was from the surplus of lights that were nearly everywhere, except for a few places. They at least had some darkness to rely on so they wouldn’t be spotted right away. Trevor parked a block away, and the three of them hid on the rooftop of the building across the way. Neon lights flickered on, reading “MERRYWEATHER’S SUNNY DAYS NIGHT CLUB”.

“Such a stupid fucking name. I mean, why is it called Sunny Days if it’s a night club?!” Trevor angrily muttered.

As the sky grew dark, the club began to stir, with some random rhythmic song starting up. Ron lifted a pair of binoculars he brought with him, and gasped.

“There he is! Mr. Weston himself!”

Trevor snatched the binoculars from Ron, causing him to crash into his side.

“Uh, Trevor, it’s still around my neck.”

“Then take it the fuck off, before I take it off for you.”

He fumbled around with it, tossing it into Trevor’s hands. Below them, he saw Devin standing outside, with a pristine woman beside him. Trevor whistled lowly, so they wouldn’t be heard.

“That lady’s wayyy out of that fucker’s league.”

He watched them speak to the bouncer outside, hearing them laugh about something before heading in.

“They’re probably laughing it up now, plotting their next move to take over the city!”

“Shut up Ron, we lost them.”

He growled in frustration, handing the binoculars back to Ron.

“Let’s sneak ‘round back, maybe we’ll see something there.”

As they left, Trevor made a mental note of where the Merryweather bouncers were placed. Two burly men guarded the entrance, with a thick velvety rope not too far in front of it. They had to avoid the streetlights, seeing as people like them were sure to raise suspicion being near one of the hottest night clubs in LS. He couldn’t be made, not when he already had a reputation there.

“Alright Ron, you see anything?”

They hid near a dumpster, away from the lights.

“Not really, it’s too dark-“

Suddenly, the back door swung open. Ron and Trevor ducked while Wade’s eyes were transfixed on who was coming out. Trevor yanked him down, holding a finger to his lips.

“So I says to him, ‘You ain’t payin’ me enough to stay on this failure of a fuckin’ show Solomon!’, old guy flipped the fuck out.”

“That’s that Pelosi actor though!” Wade said, rather loudly.

“Wade! Shh!”

“And then I- wait a minute. The fuck was that?”

“Shit! Shit!” Ron panicked.

“Yo!” Pelosi started to walk in their direction.

“We better get out of here. Now.”

All three of them scrambled up to run off back to Trevor’s truck.

“Get back here! Security!” The actor began to chase them, along with one of the Merryweather guards.

They continued to run down the block, Trevor breaking into a sprint so he could start the car up before anyone caught up to them.

“Get in! Get the fuck in!”

The truck revved up, and Trevor drove off in a haste. Even though it didn’t go as planned, Trevor couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whew! What a rush, huh?”

“Rush?! We almost got caught, Trevor!”

“Yeah, only because Wade couldn’t keep it down for 5 fuckin’ seconds.”

“I’m sorry! That Pelosi guy is famous! I ain’t ever seen a actor up close.”

“Yeah, but he’s already washed up. Nothing special.”

“Isn’t he our age? How can he be washed up if he’s still-“

“Can it, Wade.”

Trevor came to the conclusion that there wasn’t enough visibility of the place from the outside. It didn’t have a single window. He mumbled to himself that he needed to go see a friend of his. The travel to El Burro Heights didn’t take long, with Trevor telling the other two to wait in the truck.

“Ron, please make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“Got it.”

“It was one time!”

He made his way up the steps, banging on the door. He lifted his head up to the outdoor camera, snarling at it.

“Let me the fuck in Wheels!”

The front door clicked open, and Trevor walked right in. He shut it behind him, and trotted over to a bedroom.

“Trevor. Didn’t think I’d see much of you again.”

“Neither did I old friend.”

“What is it. What do you want.”

The room was lit up with aqua and pink shades, a visual of a permanent sunset on his computer. Some kind of synth music played faintly. A nerdy looking guy was seated in a wheelchair next to a set up that looked like it was pulled right from the 90s, various posters and novelty items strewn about.

“Let me cut to the chase. It’s Merryweather again.”

“Again? Trevor, I thought we agreed you’d leave them alone!”

“Ah ah ah! I didn’t finish, Lest. Get this, there’s some big event going on soon. Steve Haines- some big get together with him and his posse of lame-os.”

“Really? Devin’s letting those guys in? I thought it was all big name people.”

“Yeah, well Steve isn’t exactly poor Lester. I thought we both knew that.”

“Duh, but still. He’s not exactly Devin’s type of crowd.”

“No no no, I think they might be in kahoots. Planning something.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hmm. Let me see…”

He turned to the computer, clacking away on his keyboard. It was rather vintage looking, and Trevor was surprised it worked at all. Lester was into technology more than he was though, so he probably worked some kind of magic on it.

“Hm. You’re right. Seems like they’ve known one another for quite some time. Guess their dads work together.”

“Fuckin’ daddy’s boys.”

“But, I still don’t think interfering with that party is a good idea.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’ve had enough run ins with the both of them already.”

“But if we infiltrated the club, we could get it shut down!”

“What are you planning, some sort of raid? You and your buddies? 2 other people isn’t much to work with if you wanna take down one of the most popular clubs here.”

“That’s why I came to you!”

“For what?”

“So you could do your cyber shit, find the floor plans or something!”

“You know that’s gonna take a long time, right? I mean, getting the blueprints, not to mention finding other people who’re on board with the idea of it all-”

“Well no shit.”

“Are you paying me?”

“What?”

“I said, are you paying me?”

“What the fuck would I need to pay you for?”

“Taking time out of my day to get that done for you.”

“Right. Because you’re sooo busy.”

Lester frowned slightly, upset by the remark.

“I’m gonna just ignore that. Anyway, I’m not asking for a whole lot. Just something for the effort I’m putting in to find the plans.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Absolutely none my friend!” He said, grin wide.

“Y’know you’re still gonna need to assemble a crew that doesn’t consist of only your… minions or whatever. That’s your part. Now shoo, let me do my thing.”

“Oh Lester the Molester you never let me down!” He said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Aww, and here I thought you liked it!”

“Just go already. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. No funny business.”

“But funny business is my specialty!”

“Oh my God, go!”

He made his way back over to the truck, seeing Wade passed out in the back. Slamming a hand on the truck bed, he yelled for him to wake up.

“Boys! We got some recruiting to do.”

“Wh-what? What d’ya mean? Who are we gonna find? I thought it was just gonna be us-”

“We’re not taking out one of the biggest clubs in LS on our own, Ron.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Now let’s go.”

They all drove across the city, back to the apartment complex Floyd lived in, Wade’s place being the first one you see pulling in. He had been nice enough to pitch in some cash to pay his rent, seeing as Wade basically had no money to begin with. The trio brainstormed for a bit, chattering away about needing to find people who hated those guys just as much as they did, before Wade and Ron promptly passed out. Trevor threw on a random shuffled playlist to keep him occupied as they slept, and some song he’d never heard before played. Some artist called Grimes? The intro was wobbly, like someone was shaking laminated paper. He kept it on, liking how funky it sounded. The music reverberated loud in his ears, the singer’s voice light and dreamlike compared to the dark, heavy tone of the song. It was the experimental stuff Trevor was into. He opened nosedivr, scrolling through his usual feed. This was a thing he did often when he couldn’t sleep. As he kept going through posts, he noticed he still followed Amanda; they stopped being friends long ago and the task of removing her on there slipped his mind. She had posted a new photo though, and he instantly recognized who she was with just from the shoes. It was that Michael guy.

@krystal-klear-tears

𝔦 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

#grunge aesthetic #lana del rey #lyrics #black and white aesthetic

His finger hovered over the reblog button, and he hesitated. What was he doing right now? He didn’t give a shit who Amanda was with anymore. Michael was just another name, another face, another person she was just gonna dump later on. She could never do commitment. That was the one thing he knew for sure in the period of time they had been friends. Amanda wasn’t exactly a bad person for it, she just didn’t express her feelings in the best way. It was why she jumped from guy to guy. They didn’t need anything more than her facade, her surface level personality. So when the time came that she would be close to showing her true colors, she’d cut them off. Trevor didn’t like that. If there was one thing he truly could not stand, it was people being two-faced. He wished Amanda embraced herself more. But like he said, it was whatever now. Soon enough, he wouldn’t see anymore posts like that.

Still, he figured he could unfollow her another day. Part of him did wanna see how long this one would last. Was that bad? Maybe. Who cares. By the time he had finished scrolling mindlessly on his phone, he’d finally grown tired. He wanted to dream about tomorrow, because tomorrow promised a plan in the works, and it was fucking spectacular. He couldn’t let something so meaningless like a new boyfriend of hers distract him. Yet despite that, he still found himself wanting to know more. This was the first guy in a while that Amanda got with that she didn’t run to tell him about. It felt… strange. But again, he couldn’t let that distract him from what was at the front of his mind. He didn’t have time for that. He had to focus on Merryweather first and foremost. Shutting his eyes, a smile grew on his face. He was finally gonna take those stupid fucks down.

//sorry if these seem short rn,,, it’s gonna be a slow build up tbh. it’ll be worth it later on when i complete future chapters lol. don’t wanna rush it too much ,, also i feel like i’m gonna accidentally make this sound all over the place so uh apologies in advance 💯 i will go into more detail abt amanda n trevor’s friendship in this too btw so expect that eventually ig

[blakescoven]

11 with Xavier 🥺 plz!

11. Telling them a dumb joke just to see their smile 

A/N: cant believe I actually wrote something after MONTHS. This is trash I’m sorry :( and things got out of hand because it’s about 2k words oops, but thank you for the ask darling, I had fun🖤 (Despite my proofreading there might be grammar mistakes because of my italian illiterate ass, so please be nice)

Warnings: they’re ghosts here, but honestly just dumb jokes, fluff and a heated moment but if you blink you’ll miss it haha

It’s one of those mornings. One of those mornings when the sunlight peaks through the window waking you up. But why even bother sleeping when you’re dead? Well, call it a habit, call it boredom, call it not wanting to let go that crumb of routine which, as much as possible, allows you to keep holding on to whatever is the shred of humanity left within you; like a fading flame that, for some reason, is still burning. Or at least this is the only way to not dissociate from reality and preserve your sanity.

Based on the amount of light, it must be almost 9 am.

Before even opening your eyes, you already know that he isn’t there. It’s when you turn to the other side of the bed that you get the confirmation; he’s not beside you, just crumpled sheets cold to the touch.

It's one of those mornings you perfectly know where he went. As much as he may not want to admit it, Xavier is pretty predictable.

Halloween has just slipped by, and all of you however-reluctant-residents of Camp Redwood spent 24 hours of complete freedom from that hellmouth, that place which does nothing but constantly remind you of that life that none of the souls stuck there had the chance to live. 24 hours to do ‘whatever the hell you want’. On this occasion, you guys are used to split up and part from each other; it has become a sort of established practice not talking about what you did on those hours, a somewhat “private full-day experience” that you all have this silent agreement to not share.

But then there was Montana being Montana, who enthusiastically bragged about how many frat guys and girls she hooked up with and then mercilessly killed at those wild college gatherings, despite your well-known disappointment on killing innocent people in cold blood. But actually, you’re almost a hundred percent certain that she and Trevor annually spent that day together, doing crazy things and partying all night long. For the first few years, after becoming aware that all the trapped souls are somehow unbound from the invisible restraints and free to step outside the borders of the ‘slaughter camp’, acclimatizing to the evolution and changing of times has been particularly challenging.

You were the one of the gang that for years had used those 24 hours to find a way to set you spirits free from redwood, once and for all. You talked to mediums and psychics, charlatans, coming close to obsession; it has been Xavier who persuaded you to let go, begging to just give up.

“Xav, there must be a way out of this, a loophole…something that could release our souls and let us move on, I-”

“Babe stop, we tried hard enough, but that's just the way it is…and then at least there’s a bright side,” he claimed with a faint smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“And what on earth can that be?” you sighed.

“We've got all eternity to be together.”

He’s always been your rock. A hotshot and a dork too, but still. You wouldn’t want anybody else by your side for the rest of your non-life. 

So, from that moment, once a year, you and Xavier chose to make the most of your ‘day off’ going on dates, like normal couples do. For over three decades.

Then, as they say, the sun comes up and reality sets in.

And every time, without skipping a year, having to go back to the camp and dealing with that dreadful reality killed Xavier’s mood drastically. His aching heart led him to want to pass the day after in complete isolation, lost in his thoughts, grieving about what he has lost.

“I need to be alone for a while, Y/N” he used to mumble with a shrug, his usual confidence gone all at once, “This ‘let’s play humans’ thing was a mistake.” 

And every single year you let him walk away, respecting what has now become a sort of ritual, of cathartic moment. Year after year seeing all those people living their lives, achieving their dreams, having a purpose, or just solely breathing was too much for Xavier. Realizing that he won’t ever have anything of this. For this reason, you always gave him space. But not today. You’ve always felt powerless; all you want is finding a way to let your boyfriend know that, as he had said decades ago, ‘it’s time to move on and accept your new reality’. No more sorrow. If there’s something you know is how to cheer up your favorite aerobics instructor. 

On this November 1st of what should be 2020, Xavier is, as well as the last twenty years, sitting on the dock by the lake and staring off into space, surrounded by a disturbing silence.

“Boo” you seductively whispered in the shell of his ear, appearing out of nowhere kneeled behind him.

“Nice try,” he replies sarcastically, albeit his tone was rather emotionless, plain. “…but I can tell when you’re around.” He doesn’t even turn, totally unimpressed by your weak attempt of scaring him.

“Lame” you smirk, suddenly getting up, “Thought you could use some company, tough boy.”

You can’t see his face but you’re sure he is rolling his eyes now. He just sighs. Oh, and do you love his drama queen manners.

Without a real invitation to join him, you sit down again, this time right next to him, swinging your legs off the dock. You stare at the same direction he’s looking at, nervously tapping your fingers on the hard-wooden planks to the beat of an 80’s song.

“So,” you casually begin, though he seems pretty lost in his own thoughts, “Why don’t we skinny dip? I bet that could wash away that sad face.” you grin, biting your lip. 

You’ve never been this cheeky before, but what’s wrong in testing the waters?! Honestly, you’re not even sure he is actually paying attention to what you’re saying; you feel almost lucky he acknowledged your presence. You sure as hell won’t budge or back off this time, you won’t indulge his annual pity party. This time you are more than determined to make your boyfriend feel better, even unleashing your secret anti-sadness weapon.

Evidently caught off guard from this unusual boldness, Xavier lifts his head and turns to you with a surprised look on his face, but frowning at the same time.

Damn it, how can he be so attractive even when he furrows his brows like that?

Right now, the glare of sunlight on the water is perfectly reflecting off his sharp features, and, in this one moment, it’s like everything else falls away, and it’s just the two of you. Nothing else matters but him. Just a few seconds and you’re positive you’re going to forget the reason why you are there in the first place.

It’s the soft sound of his voice that brings you back to reality.

“I’m not sad.”

You shoot him a spare-me-that-bullshit-glance, that doesn’t go unnoticed, since he immediately emphasizes what he said in an attempt to make it sound more convincing, a few octaves higher.

“I’m not sad, Y/N!”

Very well Xav, time to bring out the big guns then.

With what you think is the most serious and straight expression your face can make in that moment, you tenderly place a hand on this cheek, which results in his brows furrowing even more, as if he’s silently questioning your sudden change of demeanor. He’s already preparing to get your lecture when instead you come up with:

“Do you know why ghosts are terrible liars?”

With a combo of a dramatic pause and a poker face, you bite the inside of your cheek noting his confused and puzzled look, “You can see right through them.”

Xavier’s blue eyes suddenly widen, shocked by your brainless joke that you’re certain he wasn’t expecting. You remain silent and he looks at you with his mouth slightly open, completely speechless.

“No way, no no no,” his eyebrows raised even further, “You didn’t say what you’ve just said.” and despite his apparent grimace, he lets out a loud laugh he really can’t hold back.

“Any chance to unhear this cringe-worthy joke?”

“Oh stop, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Are you kidding me?” he dramatically snorts. Theatrical might be the right word to describe the way your boyfriend always reacts when he’s at a loss of words.

“If you were searching for a non-physical way to kill me, you just found it.” he puts a hand on his forehead.

“Then why are you laughing, blondie?” you tease him.

“Because you’re the worst comedian ever, baby.”

Yeah? A bulb glows on your head.

“I disagree. Now tell me, what do you call a ghost-comedian?”

“Don’t you dare.” he warns

“DEAD-FUNNY” you scream back, then bursting into laughter.

It starts as a chuckle, but soon Xavier can’t help but mirror your reaction, cracking up himself.

It’s a laughter that fills his lungs, so hard that it takes his breath away, loud yet so warm and pleasant. The lack of oxygen doesn’t matter. All the distress of the past few days melts; as long as you two stay together, the tension is relieved.

“Jeez, you’re lucky you’re the love of my life,” he lightly shakes his head, “...otherwise I would run away from you as fast as I can.” he lies, lightly bumping your shoulder.

Fixing quite unconsciously his signature bleached hair, always perfectly styled, has been his tic for ages. The first time you noticed it was when he nervously tried to divert attention from his blushing, finally bent on making a move on you. You two were friends, but head over the heels for each other.

He smiles at himself; even the thought alone of spending the eternity in that purgatory without you is inconceivable.

“Why don’t you write a book with all these bad jokes?!” he mocks you.

“Only with you as a ghostwriter!” and proud of your quick-but-cheap pun, you put on a massive shit-eating grin on your face.

“Are you fucking with me, Y/N?” Xavier smiles at you lovingly, pinching your side that he knows is a ticklish-weak-spot. 

Your body twitches to escape his hold and push his hands away, but when you grab his wrists something shifts inside you. Are your eyes clouded with…is it lust? You’re not sure what it is, but you give him a little smirk, and, much to Xavier’s surprise, you straddle him placing your hands on his toned chest.

“Not yet, babe…unless it is what you want.”

“God Y/N, you suck at flirting” he claims but the groan that slips out means he can’t hide his arousal as much as he would.

“Teach me, then. Still got the moves?” you slightly shift, making sure to adjust your position with a slow grind against his half-boner. He hisses and lets out a little moan in response.

“Very well, but I think we should work on your flexibility first.”

What follows is a series of slow open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and love bites on his neck. You will never get tired of this, not even in a million years.

“Hey, Romeo and Ghouliet! Stop fucking your brains out and get over here…we have a sort of guest.” Chet screams from the lakeshore.

“We are not!” You both manage to say, reluctantly interrupting your heated kiss.

“I’m dead dears, not stupid.” the brunette winks.

Damn cockblocker.

“A guest?” Xavier questions, tilting his head and looking at you as if you know what Chet is talking about. You shrug and ask the athlete who this person is and what exactly they want.

“I think it’s about our…condition. Clairvoyance shit, I don’t know. Her name is Billie Dean Howard or something.” Chet explains, not sure either what all this is about.

Xavier is the first to get up, helping you do the same.

“Maybe she’s just a ghost-obsessed freak who wants to reopen the camp?!” you wonder out loud and tenderly link your hand with your boyfriend’s, ready to go.

“Yeah, maybe. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea, though.”

[got7-markjinson]

All I Want For Christmas is: Thursday [Jinyoung]

Pairing: Reader X GOT7 Jinyoung Genre: Fluff; Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Grumpy Ticket booth seller Jinyoung just wants to be left alone. But found someone who he wants to be with.

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

A/N: I’m sorry this came in late. I got sick these past few days. This one’s also short but I hope it’s enough for the holiday drabble! ^_^v (Happy birthday to me, too!)

**

If you would tell young Jinyoung how he would grow up to be, describing the current adult Jinyoung to him, he wouldn’t have believed you. And young Jinyoung believed in a lot of things.

As the youngest of the Park siblings, Jinyoung was coddled. His parents make sure he gets the gifts he wants for Christmas, setting up everything to make it look like Santa has placed it nicely on his socks the night before.

Him reaching adolescence is a different matter. As the only male heir of the Park family, expectations were high. And that meant he needs to grow up quicker.

Choosing to move into the city since he got into college, it seems that nothing goes well for him though. His grades were mediocre at best, and he never even got a stable job after graduation.

Not living up to his family name, he always makes excuses to miss going home for the holidays. Anything would be better than having them ask how he is and have him blatantly lie every time that he’s doing great! That their only son is NOT always stuck in between jobs and is DEFINITELY doing what he loves.

Which is why he’s here. With a few friends from college, he has signed up for the White Miracle Market.

Of all the places he could’ve setup, he chose to man the ticket booth for the Daily Christmas shows. It suits him, he doesn’t need to produce anything. He doesn’t even need to pitch for sales, as the posters for the daily shows are already setup on the website and posters are plastered on all the corners of the market since day one.

The little interactions he had with the holiday visitors would only amount to questions from “What day and time would a particular show be up?” or “How much for a group ticket?” and an occasional “Is there a student discount?”

Most of the time, he would just tap on the schedule and price list clearly printed and plastered on the glass in between him and the visitors. He clearly doesn’t know why people don’t check first before asking. Does the holiday call for people to think he would be accommodating? Does his face look like he wanted to talk to them? He couldn’t tell.

Hell, even with his friends are showing up every now and then invading his booth.

Just the other day, Jaebeom crashed, sharing his concerns on being stuck on a special order from his toy making shop.

“We only know one other person who’s an expert on this crap.”, Jinyoung tells him. Crass and unfiltered as how he usually talks.

With a defeated sigh, Jaebeom replied, “Yeah… it’s time for me to go to her.”

Her? Jinyoung was thinking of Yugyeom but he guessed Jaebeom just thinks what he wanted to. Maybe it was the girl from the crafts shop that he has been crushing for a while. And maybe Jinyoung doesn’t care if he was misread. As long as it would make Jaebeom leave him to his booth in peace.

“I just don’t get it,” Bambam complained to him on another occasion. “Most women love me. I’m handsome and charming. How was she so put off by me on our first date?”

“Let me put it this way.” Jinyoung thinking a visual representation would help pulled out a ticket and pen and drew two lines, “This line is the group of women that are interested in you. And this line right underneath is the group of women you’re interested in.”

“I don’t get it.” It was clear Bambam doesn’t, looking at his blank eyes.

“They’re parallel lines, Bambam. They never meet.”

“So?”

“So, you’re fucked,” Jinyoung stated, matter-of-factly. Maybe in this language Bambam would finally understand. “Now, go away.” Instantly shoving Bambam out of his space.

And today, another uninvited guest just waltzed in on his booth, screaming loudly, “Jinyoung! She outsold me… AGAIN! Could you imagine this face? Being outsold?”

“I clearly remembered you’re selling chocolates and not beauty products, Jackson.”, Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he tried to call out his inner peace. He literally just talked to him a while back on overstepping boundaries when he and Youngjae had a fallout. He thought there wouldn’t be another issue with Jackson for another week or so, but Jinyoung must have been asking for too much. But this is really testing his patience. He clearly shouldn’t be thinking of murdering his friends for disturbing his personal space.

“I am! But still! This face should be able to sell anything!”, Jackson huffed, “If you wouldn’t be so selfish and buy some of my chocolates, my sales would’ve done better, y’know.”

“That’s it! Get out, Jackson!”, Jinyoung finally lost it. It was the final straw. Him? Selfish? After all him listening to his friends’ petty woes. Barging into his space like it’s their own, without care that he would like to be left alone. It’s not like he’s Santa Claus. Right, they have a resident Santa Claus, why not they go to him instead?

He put out his “STAFF ON BREAK” sign early to take a breath. Away from the space, and hopefully escape from his clingy friends. He went behind the theatre of where his booth was strategically placed beside of.

Even if he sold the tickets, he never has personally watched any of the shows so this is the first time he would go here. He was expecting the theatre to be empty as the shows usually starts late, but he was surprise to hear voices coming from the stage. He went closer and saw that there was only one person there, changing voices to play different parts of the play.

It was surreal. You looked like a painting standing there with your makeshift costume, your hair disheveled from moving around on all the edges to perform each act alone. Beads of sweat on the corner of your face twinkle from the bright lights of the stage. He was in awe.

You turned around and paused mid-sentence on one of your lines when you got startled to see another person there.

“Oh! Sorry to disturb your practice.”, he uttered.

“No. It’s okay.” You breathed in relief. And then offered a chuckle, “I just got a little jumpy. Maybe I had too much coffee this morning.”

You smiled when you recognized him and involuntarily, he smiled back.

“I knew it! You can smile, too!”, you joked.

Jinyoung was caught off guard, and he gave a puzzled expression on his face.

“You’re Jinyoung, right? The one from the ticket booth?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You just always looked so… professional.”, you were looking for a better word than that. “Passive.”

“Oh.”, Jinyoung realized his face does show his lack of enthusiasm when he sells tickets. “Yeah, I just don’t think I mingle well with people.”

“Would you like to read lines with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well… It might help you practice things to say to people if you read lines. Right?” You say, hoping that lame excuse would hide the fact that you just wanted to get to know him. That you wanted him to stay longer. God, you have been crushing on him for a while and you need to seize your chance! In fact, you even auditioned for one of the Christmas shows ever since you bought a ticket from him last Christmas, wishing to see more of him. “That is, if you’re not busy of course.”

And that’s where it started. Jinyoung usually didn’t take notice of the show titles and when it’s held. But now, he gets excited on Thursdays. The days you perform.

It has been the usual afternoon that you’re rehearsing on the empty theatre with Jinyoung. He sometimes reading the lines with you, but he mostly just observes. However today, he was quiet and as you ended one scene and walked towards the audience, you see him asleep on one of the seats. You smiled to yourself and quietly walked down out of the stage and sat beside him.

Cupping your face with one hand, you just looked at his steady breathing. You whispered. “Jinyoung…”, you reached out to fix a strand of hair out of place and continued with your monologue. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really wanted to tell you something...”

You cleared your throat. “I actually liked you. A lot.”

Internally, you were cursing yourself for feeling so embarrassed confessing to a person asleep. But right now, this is the only thing you can do. You continued “I thought I’m okay with just looking at you from afar but… But since I have been spending time with you these past few days. It makes me want more. I’m scared you won’t like me but it’s okay if you don’t like me back. I just wanted to say this in person. Maybe… Maybe this Thursday I’ll be brave enough to tell you. Wait for me, then. Okay?”

You quietly left the theatre. And slowly, Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered open.

He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe someone like him would be liked by someone like you. His heart clenched, his body warmed, a certain happiness he has never thought he would have washed over him. He needed to tell it to you first. How you make him feel. That you changed the way he looked at things in this supposed to be hell of a holiday. That a loser like him would ever find this happiness.

Thursday came again.

But as he watched the show, he was surprised when your role was being played by someone else. The show ended with no signs of you. He waited. Until all of the audience and actors were gone. Until the theatre was empty. But there was no you.

He couldn’t have dreamt it all, could he? Were you ever real?

Days gone by that he hasn’t seen or heard from you and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He had never made attachments before, so he doesn’t know what he feels right now, and it just makes him lose sleep.

One day, Jinyoung woke up late, not that he was usually excited on coming to work for the holidays, but he was usually on time. One might say that he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Feeling cranky and a little naughty when he passed by the chocolates stand on his way to the ticket booth.

“Don’t you want to try a line or two on me?”, he mischievously asked the lady owner of the chocolate stand opposite Jackson’s.

“I don’t play that dirty,” came the reply.

Jinyoung was amused and then picked up several bags of chocolates from display with a yell from Jackson from behind “Oi, Jinyoung! What the hell?! Get over here!”

After shoving the money into the seller’s hand, he let out a quick, “Thanks for this. Not only will I have something to get me through the hell that is my shift, but I got to piss off Jackson, too.” Before running off to escape from Jackson.

Jinyoung laughed to himself as he seated inside his booth, seeming pleased with his prank on Jackson until he saw the calendar on his desk. Thursday. It was Thursday once again.

He sighed. And with a knock on the glass, a voice asked. “How much for two tickets for the 10 AM show?”

“I’m sorry but there’s no shows at 10 AM.” he responded, confident on the schedules as he memorized them by heart. As he uttered the words, he looked at the early bird ticket buyer.

He was speechless.

“Did you miss me?”, you say.

Without a word, he ran outside the booth to look at you face to face, only to see you in crutches. But it didn’t stop him from hugging you, which is so unlike him, at all. “God! Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry.” You say as you breathed his warmth. “I was clumsy, and I slipped, and I fell, and I broke my leg.” You chuckled at the events. It sounds funny as you were saying it out loud.

This time, he laughed with you, “You what? How could you have done that?”

“I know. I don’t know.”, he pulled away and is now looking at you with clear eyes, whisker-like wrinkles underneath and a wide smile on his face. This is the most beautiful he has ever been.

“Don’t you ever. Ever. Leave. Without telling me again.”

“Listen, Jinyoung. There’s something I actually wanted to tell you before.”

He put a finger on your lips to stop you and he shook his head. “I wanted to tell you something first.”

He dropped his hands and took yours, “I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot. If you let me, I would like to get to know you more.”

“I would like that”, you replied with a grateful smile on your face.

He enveloped you in a hug again, the warmest of all the hugs in the world.

[dbh-is-a-crime]

All Dbh Chapters

@kaydel your reply to my ask has inspired me to give my thoughts on each of the chapters.

Chapter 1: The Hostage

Is honestly a good first chapter, the tension and stakes are high, it pulls you in. There's a reason people who played the demo were hyped for the game. And regardless of what I think of Cage's writing, it's not the first time he's done a solid intro to a game. (Swiftly followed by garbage but I digress..)

We learn something about deviancy and how it starts, we get a sequence of dialogue based gameplay to set up how important it is to the story, and we get a taste of Connor’s somewhat underdeveloped investigation gameplay. 

I will admit that there are several lines I kind of like in this scene (’You can’t kill me, I’m not alive’ I’d like this even better if Bryan didn’t love it so much) And most of the outcomes are very cool! 

Chapter 2: Opening

Is not a chapter, it's the opening credits. It's not really interesting, but it's not as bad as Heavy Rain's, only because it's about half as long. Kara was robbed.

Chapter 3: Shades of Color

What a title am I right! And no, it's not just because of the paints. This chapter, title aside, isn't bad! We don't learn anything about Markus but it sets the world up nicely. It's one of the cooler open areas. It shows off the graphics nicely. 

And all of that is promptly ruined by the overly heavy-handed scene with the protesters. With the follow up of the back of the bus! Also the preacher guy is weird what was the point of that.

Chapter 4: A New Home

Easily one of the most (if not The Most) boring chapters in the game. Mundane QTEs? We all looooooove those! At the end of the chapter you get some exposition to a very nice composition (this game really would be nothing without the music) and that part is actually ok. But the mundane housework gameplay doesn’t get a pass, even if it is to give context for what the life of an android is like. Would be 100% better if there was 40% less housework.

Chapter 5: The Painter

A solid chapter! Learning about Markus through his interactions with Carl? An actual good narrative device? Unbelievable. At surface level their relationship is sweet and Carl is so supportive of Markus growing beyond his programming. Though there is a darker undertone that mirrors the caged android birds. And that it’s all a gilded cage. And I like both of those interpretations, they’re interesting. 

The music mini game is interesting the first time you do it but after that I’m never picking it again, chess it is from now on.

Chapter 6: Partners

Connor’s return after 5 chapters. I think that might be the longest break between appearances for any of them. Anyway this chapter is mostly fine. It sets up Hank and Connor’s troubled partnership and shows us what most of Connor’s gameplay is going to be. (Detective work and trying to reason with Hank) It would be interesting if there was an option to let Ortiz’ android go, seeing as there if a version of the scene where you don’t find him. But I guess it’s too early for Connor to be disobeying.

Chapter 7: Stormy Night

Classic David Cage has women being abused by men! Unfortunately this is one of Kara’s best chapters. The tension from the very first moment if real, and as soon as Alice runs up stairs, you just know what’s going to happen. Without fail, every person I’ve ever watched, immediately tries to follow her. Honestly? Solid way to make me care about the kid. 

I know some folks have problems with showing child abuse on screen, but my opinion is that they kept the worst of it as implied, like in the failed ending of the chapter, you don’t see it actually happen. So I’m personally okay with it, but I can understand why some may disagree.

10/10 for the chase/escape scene. It’s stressful as hell but honestly the music just makes it...like idk the moment Kara deviates? I nearly, literally screamed the first time. The build up to it is so good, and you as the player are determined to protect Alice and will fight through the programming to do it.

Chapter 8: Broken

Gonna be honest, Markus’ deviating scene falls a little flatter for me. I’ve watched several people play for the first time and actively not want to break programming and retaliate. Which makes the fact that its a scripted event you can’t avoid frustrating to them. I guess we just haven’t seen any anger from him yet so it doesn’t feel like the reaction you expect? (I get that it’s supposed to be him finally cracking, the story just...doesn’t convey that very well.)

Also the fact that you get punished for staying silent with Carl dying is shitty.

Chapter 9: The Interrogation 

Talk about fucking tense! This scene is a real challenge, in either difficulty. Unless you don’t care about the android self-destructing? 

I don’t have much else to say, it’s not a bad scene but there’s not a lot of substance to it. The ‘the day will come when we will no longer be slaves’ line is...the start of the truly terrible writing choices in this game.

Chapter 10: Fugitives

Not a bad scene. Getting to choose to steal a bunch of stuff is fun, and the fact that you can steal all this shit and then go and sleep in the car is pretty funny. I don’t like the house or Ralph, just because it’s another chance to put a female character at risk from a male character. 7/10 I’m never picking the house. (Also did you know you can fail to steal from that guy in the laundromat and he wakes up lmao)

Chapter 11: From The Dead

Ok this is going to be kind of a controversial opinion...but I’m tired of this scene. While it’s true that no scene in the game holds up on the 20th watch/play, this scene lost most of it’s shock value on the 3rd watch. Now that being said, the sound design in the scene is brilliant. And putting the audio processor back in does still give me chills, but the rest of the scene? I mean, I guess cannibalising other androids is a pretty powerful story action. But the fact that you can take all of the things you need from dead androids if you search hard enough kind of ruins that for me. 

Also idk why but everyone collectively thinks that Markus screams when he reaches the top of the slope and I have no idea why.

Chapter 12: Waiting For Hank

Boooooooring. Ok, getting beat up by Gavin after refusing to make him coffee is mildly interesting. But the fact that Hank just hates you in the scene is honestly quite tiring. Like, his opinion of Connor will inevitably go down at least once, you can’t avoid that. Also there’s nothing to explore in the office so...

Chapter 13: On The Run

Both versions of this scene are very tense. And not in...a super fun way. Like ok, Kara has that empowering woman moment where she cuts her hair, great, but the rest of the scene isn’t that good. (And the version with Ralph is downright disturbing.) 

Chapter 14: Jericho

Oh god let’s players cannot do this part. And the amount of time I’ve spent watching people run around clueless because they weren’t paying even the slightest attention or follow the obvious path, makes me hate this chapter. I also hate it because the gameplay isn’t very interesting. Markus’ precog is mildly interesting, but that’s really it. (The end of this chapter has some pretty stunning visuals tho)

Chapter 15: The Nest

Ok, the opening conversation with Hank is cute if Connor is trying to be nice. Though the actual chase is pretty tense. The music is on point as always, because the composers for this game were very overqualified for the job. Also the fact that you get punished for not saving Hank both amuses and vexes me. You don’t catch the guy because you were a shitty partner. But what was the point of taking the risk with Hank if there’s no reward? (Yes I know he still ends up in evidence lock up but that’s hardly reward enough for risking your partner’s life)

I mean okay the pigeons flying through the roof is pretty funny, but the investigation in the apartment isn’t all that interesting. Also I’ve just realised I haven’t mentioned the Zen Garden once but honestly most of the scenes there aren’t that interesting anyway.

Chapter 16: Time To Decide

Wow where do I start on how uninteresting this chapter is. You learn very little about Markus’ companions, you get to have a conversation with a magical minority, and you get a line about an android being dragged behind the back of a car. (After reading the wiki about James Byrd I feel genuinely sick and could not be more disgusted that this was used so clumsily in the game.)

Chapter 17: Zlatko

His name sounds like a brand. Also this is my least favourite Kara chapter. They go to his place for almost no reason (just so they can get caught) and we get a 20 minute scene of Zlatko being a cartoonish monster of a man. Also this has been pointed out and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Why is Kara scared of Luther when she sees him? Like...??? Anyway re-finding her memories is boring, finding Alice is also boring, and hiding from Zlatko is just stressful. Nothing interesting to the story happens here, except that Luther joins Kara and Alice.

Chapter 18: Russian Roulette 

Perhaps the shortest chapter in the game. It’s not like...super boring, but it’s not interesting either. Also don’t forget to notice the picture on the table or you’ll have no chance of getting the good ending later! Seriously, they should have made it a requirement for the scene to move on if it’s going to be that important.

Chapter 19: Spare Parts

The whole freerunning thing at the start is lame. And the fact that you have to grab the android and then release him to get the best outcome is confusing as hell. (I have seen many folks fuck this up.) The part where you sneak around in the guard house is actually kind of cool. Also North go down if you’re nice to people....I love this game.

Chapter 20: The Eden Club

Pity the lesbian sexworker androids!!! In all seriousness though this is a chapter I do not like. The endings are unfulfilling, the whole storyline is gross, poorly written and very Cage-esque. (Also why would you make the two android lovers the same model?! Just make one of them one of the other 8 female WR800 models you have!) I mean I guess I can say that the glowly design of the sexclub is nice or whatever.

Chapter 21: Pirate’s Cove

Ok this is a personal one but I don’t like this chapter. Something about the family dynamic between the three falls flat for me and so the whole scene being about them makes it...ehh. Also Kara under threat again! Woohoo! The scene on the carousel is kind of cute and the scene composition is nice, but the fact that all the Jerrys are standing around watching is a little weird. Also bait us with rA9 crap why don’t you! we’ll just never learn anything about this i guess

Chapter 22: The Bridge

I like this chapter to be honest. I know Pirate’s Cove is meant to be relaxed but I find this chapter more relaxing. Even if it ends with a gun to Connor’s head. I mean it’s not that hard to not get shot really. And seeing Hank start to care and question their mission is interesting. I don’t know, I guess I just like the visuals of the snow and the bridge. (Anyone notices that it goes from raining to snowing like three days later, wtf)

Chapter 23: The Stratford Tower

Now this one is complicated. Because I like the breaking in and getting up to the broadcast department part, I even like the pre-speech tension. Markus carrying the weight of history and knowing his words will shape what people across the world think of androids. 

The music as he gets ready to start the speech is....just so good. But then he starts talking and.....mmmmm press x for civil right yes please! Press square to end slavery? Absolutely! God...the writing in this scene is Bad. Which is a shame! Because it squanders the carefully crafted tension built up until this point. I like the energy going into this scene, the idea that they’re about to take a stand, make history. But it is unfortunately ruined for the sake of a poorly executed racism allegory.

Chapter 24: Public Enemy

Ok, going to investigate the crime scene of what you just did as Markus is pretty good. Its not an original idea, that was the opening sequence for Indigo Prophecy, but it still works I’m not going to lie. Also the cop from the Hostage showing up to thank you if you saved him is cute. The fact that Hank is starting to question Connor and look for signs of deviancy in him is also nice! Also I hate it but going after Simon gives you a more cohesive storyline if you’re going for a deviant Connor route. (Can I get an F for Simon? He can die so many different ways)

Chapter 25: Midnight Train

Can’t believe that the chapter about the underground railroad is literally called Midnight Train. Yeah the dialogue in this? Shocking, terrible, absolutely unforgivable. Rose I am so sorry this happened to you. Also a cop arrives to....put Kara in peril at the hands of a male character again! Can’t go a chapter without that!

Chapter 26: Capitol Park

Hmmmmmmmmm. ‘We have a dream’? ‘I can’t breathe, but I’m still alive’? Hi, yes, hello? David Cage is doing it again, yeah he’s co-opting black history for his story about androids, somebody needs to stop him. Why did no one stop him.  

Ok, most of this chapter other than that is ok. It’s not particularly good, but it’s ok. (wiLL yOu bE gOoD oR eViL?!?!1)

Chapter 27: Meet Kamski

Ok this man is so creepy and emotionally manipulative and as a narrative tool I’ve actually come to love it. Like the tone of this chapter is such a breath of fresh air. Maybe it’s just the fact that they added a new character after such a long time and that he knows more than he ever lets on. rA9 baited again...

Also this is Connor’s turning point in a way. You can still choose to change your path later on, but this is the real moment of truth where a character pushes him to reveal where he’s at. (Also the fucking MUSIC)

Chapter 28: Freedom March

Oh no. I’m so sorry Markus you deserve better. I hate this chapter if you can’t tell. The combo of the black history slogans and the jesus music is too much for me. Also the good ending is locked behind Simon being alive/Spare Parts success route??? Also F for that random android who’s name is John that we hear about twice.

Chapter 29: Last Chance, Connor

I usually keep a low profile with Gavin so I miss out on the beatdown unfortunately. But having the option is hilarious. If you don’t sacrifice at the march, Simon is alive, interrogation bad end, Rupert and the Tracis escape....can you even find Jericho?

Just a thought, anyway this is short but tense chapter. Don’t hate it.

Chapter 30: Crossroads

Kara’s part of this is dumb as hell. The Alice twist literally destroys the storyline but anyway...

Markus has very little to do until the end. His version is ok, but Jesse’s line delivery leaves something to be desired. (You’re one of us....)

Connor’s is easily the most interesting of the three concurrent stories at this point. Going in to capture Markus/North, chasing them through the hold if ur a machine..very good. 

And....going deviant. Okay yes that still gets me, I did actually shout YES!! out loud the first time I witnessed it. The music’s slow build in the scene, and most of the dialogue (if you choose carefully) swells to this point and...and..it happens!! 

Like idk I’ve only been slowly building up to this for 9 hours, sue me.

Chapter 31: Night Of The Soul

I like this chapter! Or Markus’ version anyway. Connor’s...well the Hank version is just sad. The Jericho version is fine.

But Markus? Visiting Carl’s grave or the man himself is such an emotional moment for the character. And the single humanising moment he’s had in several chapters. The conversation is so weighted with his doubts and fears and Jesse Williams gives a beautiful performance! (Also as I’ve said, the alarm system saying ‘welcome home markus’ kills me on impact)

Chapter 32: Battle For Detroit

Is a good chapter. What, did you expect me to say it isn’t? Cause it is. Or some versions of it are.

The tension in all three characters stories, regardless of which version, is perfectly hit at this point.

Kara’s....ah fuck idk I mean the border version is ok? The others....kind of suck? The guy letting them through with high public opinion and Markus doing a peaceful demonstration is kind of cute and sort of makes sense in a way.

Markus’ versions (both in which he is alive) are pretty cool. The revolution is hard, and I do like that it ends with him saying that they haven’t won, they’ve only started a war. The demonstration is kind of dumb, and I actually prefer them getting shot and then the news anchors suggesting that maybe androids are people in their own right that humans refused to acknowledge. (Feels more real, ya know?) Also black folk song!! Why??

Gonna be real, most of Connor’s versions of this scene are pretty good. Cyberlife tower is tense as hell but he’s a fucking badass. Machine Connor on the roof gives us the best line in the game. ‘What’s up lieutenant, ran out of whiskey so you came here looking for trouble?’  

So that’s some of my thoughts on each of the chapters of dbh, I could go into more depth but my eyes hurt and I’ll probably hit post limit soon.

[wolf-in-a-suit]

Nursing care

Show: The Dragon Prince

Summary: General Amaya is a woman of action, not lying around idly while others do the work for her! Having fought many foes and endured torture, at the hands of quite a few of them, she also prides herself for her perseverance. However, throw into the mix: Ezran, a horse, an overbearing Harrow and a smug arch mage and you get a General at the end of her rope. Enjoy.

A/N: This is my very late contribution to @tdpweek with the prompt ‘car accident’. Seeing as this is a fantasy show I decided a horse accident is more befitting and resumed to torture our loved General Amaya.

My other two imagines for tdpweek are: The Pastry Assassination (featuring Viren x Amaya, Harrow, Claudia, Ezran and Callum) and Regret.(Claudia, Soren and Viren)

A stark breeze ruffled trees, fall had already painted them in various color schemes. Their falling leaves posed an invitation to get lost in the forest's tranquil embrace. Marking the retreat of summer, the last rays of a setting sun left warm traces on the approaching rider's faces. The clacker of hooves was muffled by thick earth and left the serene mood undisturbed.

Amaya closed her eyes and breathed it all in; the thick earthy scent and the oncoming crisp whisper of winter was carried as a promise by the wind. Here she felt complete: Horseback and on an uncharted trail only she knew. Her muscles uncoiled as she relaxed for the first time in weeks. No disturbances, mortal danger, or recruits clanking around in their heavy armor... just this.

"Hey, aunt Amaya look what I can do!"

Well, it had been relaxing as long as it lasted. The General turned around just to stare at her nephew Callum sitting on his horse grinning over both ears. Next to him Ezran's gelding was... showcasing a disturbing lack of Ezran. Her eyes widened in panic, while her hands began whipping through the air in hectic movements. Callum’s hands rose as well. "Don't worry, he's right there." Amaya shifted her weight in the saddle to peer to the mentioned side of Ezran's steed. Sure enough, the future ruler of the kingdom was clawed to the side of the saddle like a spider, his white teeth gleaming in triumph.

The reprimanding brisk moves of his aunt's hands did little to dampen his enthusiasm. "It's alright, Hector won’t let me fall. Right?" The small boy crawled further up the animal’s neck and peered lovingly into it's warm brown eyes. However, Hector seemingly wasn't prepared for the massive squirrel suddenly flashing onto the road.

Three seconds.

It took Hector about three seconds to determine that: Yes, he was in mortal danger and no: a Prince clawing at his neck did little to boost his confidence in being able to battle this outlandish fiend. So, he did the only sensible thing: Whickering and kicking, while he turned around galloping down the dirt road.

"Ezran!" Callum was frozen to the spot, all he was able to do was scream for his little brother who hung onto his steed's neck for dear life.

With each massive jump of the animal the thought of 'This is it!' whipped through Ezran's head with the speed of the trees blurring by. His hands ached and lost more and more of their death grip on Hector's mane. Surely, this was his end. He would be crushed under the heavy hooves and trampled, if not he would break his neck on impact. He closed his eyes while he felt the last of his strength slip and gravity’s inevitable pull take hold.

Suddenly, a new pair of trapping hooves led the boy to snap his eyes open again. Just in time to see his aunt launch like a tiger from her own horse, still running at break neck speed and snatch him out of the air. Her big frame engulfed his tiny figure in midflight and then-

They crashed, very hard. The scrapping of armor on stone and the horrifying breaking of bones was followed by an even more unsettling silence.

The next thing Amaya's fuzzy brain registered was pain. A lot of it. It was followed by the face of Viren looming over her prone form - as if the physical pain wasn't enough.

"Congratulations General, you managed to break your leg and quite a few of your ribs. Not counting the really impressive consortium of bruises and scrapes. I'd say this deserves at least a place under your top three injuries. Wouldn’t you agree?" Lord Viren's face was a mixture between smug and annoyed. Amaya's answer came in swift movements. "She's saying that-" Callum’s translation was briskly interrupted by the mage himself: "'If you're so ecstatic about treating my wounds, perhaps you should send in one of your other mages?' Yes, I know!" Now, the annoyed expression definitely took over his features.

"And miss prescribing the General Amaya bed rest and forbidding her from attending her duty for the next weeks? I think not." At the woman's horrified face a smirk stretched his thin lips. 'You're enjoying this far too much.' Amaya signed furiously. "You're quite mistaken, for I am but a humble servant." His mocking bow brought rise to the General's notorious scowl. However, Viren seemed immune to it’s effect. "Do enjoy your time with your family my dear." A mischievous and knowing gleam filled his eyes as he opened the door to her certain doom.

In stumbled a crying Ezran "Aunt Amaya, I am so sorry!”, a concerned Gren "How are you General? Is there anything I can do?" and worst of all: A very, very deeply worried brother in law: King Harrow. "I'll tell the servants to make your room better accessible at once and... and to carry you there. Wait! I'll carry you myself!" The former quiet room was filled by a jumble of voices: Apologies, suggestions and plans flew through the air and Amaya felt like she was caught in a Hurricane of epic proportions. The door, her only escape route, was blocked by a highly amused Lord Viren. Although, she supposed in her current state any escape attempt would be cut short by this pack of hungry wolves calling themselves family.

"Amaya is the cushion really comfortable enough?" Without waiting for a response Harrow dove into the next room like he was leading an army into battle. A few seconds later he emerged with about six new cushions in hand. An over eager Ezran lifted her feet in order to make room for the offending objects. Though, at the pained look on her face dropped her broken leg instantly, - which in turn led her to a silent howl. "I am so sorry! I'll get you something!"

There was simply no telling what the Prince would drag along this time. So far a tower of strawberry pastries, books- now sporting suspiciously red stains and a dagger was erected right next to her. Bait peering grumpily from the top at the commotion. It was just her luck that her brother in law had witnessed the scene unfold and was now franticly searching for a solution. By all the gods in this realm, what did she do to deserve this punishment!?

An unsuspecting Callum rounded the corner as he was suddenly seized and shaken by the King. "Callum, go get some more of the pain numbing potion from Viren. Be quick about it." And off was the last remaining sensible part of her family, oh joy.

With precise and swift moves Viren dropped the Corus fly’s wings into the cauldron and started a low incantation. "Naip feiler w..." Bam, bam. The rapping on his door let him to groan in frustration. No one informed you beforehand how much of a time consuming business being the father of a witch and a soldier could be.

However, when he opened the door there was no sign of an exasperated Soren or confused Claudia to be found, just the boy. With great effort he stopped his teeth from grinding. "Prince Callum, there is a reason why I am not to be disturbed while in my laboratory. Not even by the King himself!" The boy in turn just managed to drag the minimal amount of socially acceptable shame onto his pale face. "Yes, almost totally forgot... the big sign outside was just, eh... very hard to read?” He finished lamely. At Viren's raised eyebrow he continued: "I need a new potion for Aunt Amaya." "Ah" The mage made a knowing sound. "I take it, due to her family's loving care of her!?"

However, his skilled hands were quick to pour his recent potion into a flask and to press it into the boy’s hands. But instead of scuttling the annoyance eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you just brew this for her? I thought that was the job of the common mages downstairs!?"

"There are also other wounded people requiring my skills, not only the General. Brewing the potion just now was merely a coincidence." There was some light igniting in the Prince's green eyes as he leaned on the stone wall. "I'm curious, why exactly did you learn how to read sign language?" Lord Viren scoffed. „The arch mage and the General of the King’s guard not being able to understand each other in times of conflict? Well, that's certainly a sensible idea. However, as enjoyable as this discussion with you was - as always." the words where drenched in barely concealed annoyance, like one of Ezran's tarts in strawberry jam "I believe there is somewhere you need to be!"

The door banged shut right before Callum's nose, the sign reading ‘Do Not Disturb!’ in bold letters swinging hazardly from one side to the other.

Menacing shadows crept through the moonlit corridors while voices echoed on the cold stone walls, blending to a jumble of incoherent words: “She was just here..”, “Find her!”, “-always like this…”

Sweat shone on her forehead and Amaya needed to take deep breaths to calm herself, she was surrounded by the enemy. One wrong move could mean the end. Leaning heavily on the wooden crutches she tried to move as swiftly and silently across the corridor. The voices gained in volume, they were almost upon her now. Just around the corner. Her panicked gaze snapped back before her at the sound of a heavy door opening.

Out stepped Viren. The mage was astonished at the picture presenting itself. The runaway, searched by all of the court for the last hour, stood before him caught red-handed in escaping King Harrow and his guards. Amaya huffed in annoyance and defeat. Busted, back to the insanity that was Harrow’s understanding of loving care. Viren would never let her live this down. The voices drew even nearer.

A shift in the air made the fugitive look up. Viren had stepped aside, his robes billowing in the air, and mentioned with his raised arm to the open door behind him: Leading into his laboratory. Her brown eyes were torn open in equal amounts of astonishment and wariness. Lord Viren helping her? He always acted as if she was the bane of his existence. Arguing over every small decision or operation plan and more often than not sending her a smoldering glare behind Harrow’s back. This had to be a trick of his; the man did nothing without an ulterior motive in mind.

The man in question sighed, resignation coloring the tone. “Is it so hard to believe that I am capable of genuine sympathy?” Amaya’s hardened expression rendered every word unnecessary. Viren’s eyebrows shifted into his state of the art ‘I-am-not-amused’ mien. “Well then, let’s just wait for our King then. Shall we?”

With seconds to spare General Amaya grabbed her crutches and vanished into the open door.

When King Harrow rounded the corner all he saw was his trusted advisor calmly closing the door to his laboratory, the ‘Do not disturb!’ sign swinging and finally clattering to the ground.

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Cassie

content: Cassie never really forgot about Dean Winchester.

word count: 3608

author's note: Last installment of my “Outsider POV Series” (though each one can be read on its own)

[Read on AO3]

[Read from the Beginning]

Cassie never really forgot about Dean Winchester.

Seriously, how could she? It's not exactly common to get acquainted with a hunter who introduces you to the supernatural in the most unconventional way. Cassie's world view changed that day quite dramatically and she will never go back to the innocent girl she once was.

Sometimes she thinks that's quite a shame because once in a while she seriously just wants to watch the news or read an article about some weird occurrences without her mind inevitably reminding her that there are dangerous creatures in the shadows most people don't really know about. Every time she hears stories about strange deaths or suspicious animal attacks a shiver is running through her body, reminding her of the things she's been through.

But at the same time she can't help being grateful for the men and women out there who try to make this world a safer place by risking their lives.

So yeah, Cassie couldn't really forget about Dean, even if she would have wanted to.

Which she never did.

She tried to contact him from time to time, wondering whether he was okay. If he was still alive and well.

However, soon after they parted ways for the last time he obviously changed his cell phone number, so she couldn't exactly reach him anymore. Admittedly, he gave her the number of one Bobby Singer, telling her insistently that she should call the guy if she would ever need help, but at first she couldn't really bring herself to call a stranger to ask about Dean's general well-being. It took some time and some very disturbing news reports to finally take that step and she found herself eventually talking to a man with a gruff voice who assured her that, yes, Dean was fine and if he should rely a message to the hunter which Cassie instantly declined.

This conversation happened the exact same way several times after that until one day she was unable to reach Bobby's number as well and she had no freaking idea whether any one of them was still alive.

And she didn't know for many years.

Until on a bright summer morning the first rumors about a haunted house a few streets over first circulated around her neighborhood and it didn't take long for two 'experts' to show up. Hunters, big and burly and most likely witnesses of way too many horrible things, who didn't wait around to do their job, so that Cassie actually had to hurry to catch up with them before they left town again.

And thankfully, as soon as Cassie mentioned the name Winchester, their eyes lit up with recognition and after making sure that she wasn't any sort of demon or other supernatural being (a very wet experience, that's for sure), they pressed a phone number into her hands, talking about hunter networks and secrets lairs before saying goodbye.

And so she's sitting in her bedroom now, phone in one hand and the number in the other, hesitating because she hasn't got the foggiest idea what to expect.

Eventually she just thinks screw it! and goes for it.

“Yes, hello?” a deep voice greets after the third ring.

Cassie swallows. She can't exactly place the voice, but the connection isn't the best and she hadn't spoken to Dean in over a decade, so everything is possible.

“Dean?” she asks, hopefully.

“No, this is Castiel,” the man contradicts. “Dean is in the kitchen right now.”

Cassie takes a deep breath. Damn, it feels like there's been a massive weight lifted from her shoulders. “So he's alive?”

Castiel is silent for a moment. “Yes, he is,” he agrees finally. “Did you hear otherwise?”

“No, it's just …” Cassie licks her lips. “I haven't talked to him in a really long while and … I just wasn't sure if he'd be –”

“I see,” Castiel agrees, a sudden softness in his tone. “His former profession was indeed quite unhealthy. It's fair to assume the worst.”

Cassie raises her brows. “His former profession? He isn't a hunter anymore?”

Castiel is quiet once again before asking, “I'm sorry, but who are you?”

Cassie blinks a few times, realizing that she obviously forgot her manners somewhere along the way. “Oh damn, I'm sorry,” she says. “I'm Cassie. Cassie Robinson. I don't know if Dean ever mentioned me – probably not –, but we met long ago and –”

“Of course,” Castiel interrupts and now there is a clear chuckle in his voice. “I know who you are.”

“You do?” Cassie asks surprised. She can't imagine Dean talking about her enough that this man would know about her. It seems kinda surreal.

“Dean will be pleased to hear from you,” Castiel states, sounding cheerful. “Wait a moment, I'll get him.”

And then he's gone before Cassie can say anything else, leaving her blinking quickly and sort of overwhelmed because she's honestly got no idea what to feel right now. Unconsciously she probably expected things would turn out to be like it did with Bobby Singer in the past – a quick hello, a “Dean is fine” and that's it.

But obviously this Castiel does have some other plans.

Before she's able to make up her mind and figure out what to do or say, she hears two voices from the other end of the line.

“ – just ridiculous, Cas! Why aren't you telling me who's on the damned phone?”

“Answer it, Dean,” Castiel responds, his voice suddenly so warm that Cassie has a hard time believing that's the same guy. “You'll see.”

Dean sighs very melodramatically. “Fine. But don't forget about the meatloaf in the oven. It'll be your fucking fault if it combusts into flames because you're incapable of writing down a simple message and tell whoever there is on the phone that I'm gonna call them back!”

Cassie can almost see Castiel's following eye-roll. “Just do it! I'll watch the oven.”

Cassie can't help feeling a bit surprised by all of it. The whole scene sounds so freaking domestic, like an everyday occurrence – most definitely not something she would ever have associated with Dean Winchester.

“Yes, who is this?” Dean suddenly grunts and Cassie takes a moment to realize he picked up the phone and is talking to her now. She freezes for a split second, surprised by how different his voice sounds like now.

“Um … hi, Dean,” she eventually manages. Granted, not her best performance, but it's the least embarrassing she can come up with. “It's Cassie.”

There is silence for a while and Cassie finds herself wondering whether Dean even remembers her, after everything he's been through, and she's about to add her surname for clarification when at last a breathy laugh interrupts the silence.

“Damn, seriously?” Dean asks, seemingly quite glad to hear her voice. “I can't believe it! How long has it been?”

Cassie's lips curl upwards. “Way over ten years.”

Dean makes an confirmative noise. “Yeah, sounds about right.” There is a shuffling noise. “That's just so – wow. How … what –”

He doesn't seem to know what to ask first and Cassie can't exactly blame him, she must have caught him off guard rather spectacularly. It's honestly not everyday your ex from a decade ago decides to call you out of the blue.

“I'm really glad you're okay,” she say in a low tone, taking a deep breath. “After all this time – well, I wasn't sure if you're still, you know –”

“Alive?” Dean chuckles, though it sounds kind of awkward. “Yeah, it's been a close call a few times. Not exactly pretty. And other times, well …” He clears his throat. “It's hard to explain.”

“But you're okay now, right?” Cassie can't help asking.

“I'm more than okay,” Dean responds, his smile almost audible over the phone. “I've still got ten fingers and ten toes, that's quite a big deal for a hunter. Though I almost lost one of my fingers recently during some discount event at the grocery store I had no clue of beforehand. It was horrible.”

Cassie finds herself feeling a bit alienated by this since she honestly never thought she'd hear Dean say something like this ever.

He obviously changed quite a lot.

At least he became quite talkative, so it seems. He's never been the quiet guy, of course, but about the only topics he'd been fairly passionate and enthusiastic about had been movies and cars (and sex, though he rather liked to do it than talk about it) back then. Now, however, he keeps on rambling about his adventures at the supermarket as though they're the most exciting things that ever happened to him.

It's honestly downright adorable.

And before she knows it Cassie finds herself in a passionate discussion about grocery shopping and the difficulty of finding a good parking spot.

Life can be really weird sometimes.

*  *  *  *  *

It's like no time at all went by when Cassie opens her door about two weeks later and finds herself face to face with the one and only Dean Winchester.

“Damn, you look even better than before,” she blurts right out because her brain-to-mouth-filter obviously stopped working somewhere along the way. She considers blushing since it would have been an appropriate response, but settles on smirking instead when she witnesses Dean's answering grin.

“Well, what can I say?” he laughs. “I'm still a handsome devil.”

Before Cassie's got even time to adjust Dean wraps his strong arms around her, squeezes her so tightly she almost fears to suffocate for a second, and whispers, “It's good to see you,” right into her ear.

He got bigger, bulkier, as Cassie notices instantly. And he smells differently somehow. She can't exactly pinpoint what changed (too much time has passed for that), but she just knows that it's not the same anymore.

“It's good to see you, too,” she says right back, shutting her eyes for a second and just let herself feel.

She hadn't even entirely realized how anxious she had been since the time her contact with Dean (or, more precisely, Bobby) broke off and she suddenly got no way of knowing whether the guy who charmed her with his lopsided smile and some lame Star Wars jokes all those years ago was actually still alive.

Breathing.

Whole.

It seems kind of surreal to have actual assurance now.

Dean had been kinda adamant to visit her. Obviously he had some business to attend to nearby – a couple of hunters apparently found some supernatural artifacts and hadn't been comfortable with handling them on their own – and immediately suggested that he could stop by afterwards. Cassie first refused since Deans definition of 'in the neighborhood' meant one state and a twelve-hour-drive over, but Dean still seemed to be the stubborn jackass from before, not at all inclined to listen to Cassie's logic and wisdom.

And granted, seeing him now, in the flesh, his smile so bright, Cassie can't really bring herself to be mad with him.

Though she won't dare to say that out loud.

She drags him into her house and finds herself talking ten miles a minute. Their first phone call and the few that followed had been rather brief and the opposite of informative. Cassie immediately sensed that Dean's mind had been occupied with a lot of things at the same time, so she kept herself from prying too much. They shared some basic grounds – Cassie told her about her husband Mike and their six-year-old son Wesley and in return Dean talked about Sam and the fact that he instantly got himself four dogs as soon as Dean moved out into his own place (Dean actually couldn't stop complaining about those mutts in a way that makes it absolutely crystal clear that he not so secretly loves every single one of them) –, but they didn't get that deep yet.

So Cassie takes her chance, leading him through the rooms, showing him pictures of her family and tries to catch up the decade they had lost. Dean listens very patiently, nods at the right places and smiles easily at her. He looks warm and soft that way, like he's genuinely happy that Cassie found her own personal space in the world.

And at some point, when they settle in the living room, Cassie ends her stream of words, blushing a bit for taking up so much time with her tales about her boring normal life. But Dean just waves her off, reassuring her like a freaking gentleman that it was a delight listening to her stories before taking over the wheel himself.

His eyes are bright and full of pride and love when he tells her about Sam, his research work and the night classes he recently decided to pick up (“because he's a nerdy nerd who loves nothing more than sticking his nose inside a book”), about someone called Cas, most likely that guy Castiel with whom Cassie talked on the phone briefly, and the fact that he's a grumpy little shit in the morning, about some military bunker they inherited by their grandfather and that became some kind of stable home for them after living so long on the road, and eventually about a house not that far from the bunker which Dean bought some months ago.

“It's been a freaking dump,” Dean explains. “Like, seriously. It took about a week to get rid of all the woodland creatures making themselves home in that place. I met animals I didn't even know.”

Cassie chuckles. “Sounds like an adventure.”

And definitely the good kind, not the let's-kill-some-monsters adventure.

“Well, it's gonna stay that way for a while,” Dean says, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just started with fixing the kitchen. Cas insists on making it spacious and bright and big, as if he's actually the one cooking there instead of me. I think he tends to forget that he's prone for burning water.”

Cassie can't help hesitating a bit. It sounds an awful lot like Castiel has some very strong opinion concerning the house.

Is he about to move in as well?

Admittedly, Cassie wouldn't have been totally surprised. Dean speaks about the guy in a voice so fond it indicates a very strong connection. Somewhere along the way Castiel obviously became a quite vital part in Dean's and also Sam's life and Cassie finds herself glad that they were able to add more people to their little family. They deserve it.

And so Cassie states, “I'd love to meet Cas someday.”

Dean's face instantly lights up. “I guess that could be arranged.”

He digs his phone out from the depths of his pocket, presses a few buttons and eventually shows Cassie a picture of a guy with messy hair and the most incredible blue eyes squinting into the camera.

“That's him,” Dean announces and suddenly there are so many emotions in his voice, it's really hard to distinguish them somehow. “I actually tried to convince him to come with me as well, but he thought he'd be in the way of our reunion and didn't want to disturb us. Though I told him several times that you would most definitely love to meet him!”

Cassie nods along and smiles at him. However, she can't shake the feeling that she is missing something here.

Something big.

But before she's able to nudge and ask some cautious questions, Dean continues his ramble. “And that's Chester, by the way,” he says, pointing at a small puppy with black fur sitting on Castiel's lap. “Right after Sam got his army of annoying dogs Cas started to hint that he'd like one, too. He read all those guidebooks about parenting and claimed that couples should attempt raising a puppy first before going for kids. Total bullshit, I could tell you right from the start – apart from the whining and the pooping human children are far more complicated –, but Cas wouldn't budge and dammit, I can't say not to those eyes! How can anyone?”

He actually sounds a bit helpless there, as if he's in serious need of an answer.

Cassie, though, is way to busy to realize that she indeed missed something very important!

Wow!

She expected a lot of things, but not this.

Her eyes flicker to Dean's hand on pure reflex and yep, there it is: A ring! An undeniable I'm-a-married-guy ring!

How did she not see this before?

Dean, however, doesn't seem to notice her inner turmoil. “Chester isn't so bad though.” He's obviously trying for casual, but missing by a mile. “At least he poops less than Sammy back in the days, so that's definitely a plus. And a quick learner, too. Cas even wants to teach him how to turn on the coffee maker in the morning.” Dean chuckles. “It'll probably end in disaster, but it's gonna be entertaining to watch.”

He looks at the picture again and the love in his gaze is suddenly so freaking clear that Cassie wonders how she could have been that blind and deaf and dumb.

For a whole minute she simply gapes at Dean, not sure what to say.

“You're married!” she eventually blurts out because she's awkward and way too shocked to care.

But dammit, she honestly needs some credit for this. She didn't anticipate Dean to be in a happy and solid relationship with homes and dogs and future children.

And she didn't expect a husband of all things!

Admittedly, when she met Dean over a decade ago, he'd been hiding behind a fake smile and a cocky attitude, always eager to never ever appear vulnerable and emotional. Several times she tried to make him open up a little bit – and failed every time to break down or at least crack the huge wall he built around his heart.

It seemed like an impossible task.

So, sadly, in the end, she had no actual idea who the real Dean Winchester even was.

Hell, probably Dean himself hadn't had the foggiest either.

But that obviously changed a lot since then. And Cassie can't help wondering how big Castiel's impact had been on that one.

He most definitely deserves a fucking medal, that's for sure.

Dean, in the meantime, started to eye her with confusion that turns rather quickly into a sheepish expression. “Ah shit, I totally forgot to tell you I'm married, right?” He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I'm really sorry. I'm so used to people knowing or at least assuming as soon as they see us together …”

Cassie can't exactly blame them. Dean even looks at a simple picture like a lost idiot so deeply in love there's no way back. She can't even imagine how it'd be with them in the same room.

It'll probably be the grossest thing she ever witnessed and she feels envious already.

“He knows about me,” she finds herself stating after a moment.

Dean blinks a few times. “Uh, what?”

“Castiel,” she points out. “When I talked with him on the phone briefly. He knew exactly who I was as soon as I said my name.”

There had been not even a split second of hesitation. Just recognition.

Dean just shrugs. “Sure. He knows everything about me.”

And he still loves me anyway, is left unsaid.

Cassie's chest clenches uncomfortably at those words. She remembers the day when he told her the truth about his life, about his job. How keen he had been to share this with Cassie, to have no secrets between them.

And she thanked him by throwing him out.

But Castiel … he knows everything, most likely even the very dark episodes. The pain and the blood and the monsters. And instead of running away he stayed. At Dean's side.

To make a home and build a family.

To love him unconditionally.

Cassie feels some traitorous tears prickling behind her eyes. If there is one person on the planet who deserves this kind of devotion more than anyone, it's Dean.

Because he gave so much and received so little in return.

“Damn, now I really want to meet him.”

Dean laughs, his eyes glinting. “I'm gonna drag him over here next time, how about that?”

His smile is easy and carefree as he once again glances at the picture in his hands, perhaps already imagining how this meeting will turn out. He rubs his thumb over the display, as if he's caressing Castiel's cheek, and the deep affection in his gaze is so prominent Cassie feels almost blinded by it.

She never thought she would ever see such an expression on Dean's face.

It seriously suits him.

“Tell me everything!” Cassie demands, nudging his shoulder excitedly. “How you met, how you fell in love …”

Dean's whole posture softens even more. “That's one hell of a long story, Cassie.”

She grins. “Then let's hear it.”

And so Dean does.

*  *  *  *  *

It's a stunning tale about Heaven and Hell, angels and demons.

Friendship and trust and sacrifice.

Heartbreak and hope.

About a profound bond so strong not even the joined forces of the most powerful supernatural beings were able to destroy it.

A tale about two people finding each other despite the odds being against them over and over again.

And Cassie feels a bit like she's listening to the greatest love story every told.

(Tag List: @caswayward, @righteousdemondean, @red-lemoncake, @breathingdestiel, @ashthimble, @deanissmitten)

[westywrites]

Ground Assault

A short story written in journal style entries about a perfect boy and a naive narrator who end up in a not-so-perfect place. 

Length: 3632 words

Warnings: violence, death, explosions, other potentially upsetting subject matter. Please read with reasonable caution.

Please, read this and please understand everything I have to do. There is no other way, I'm so sorry. I'll show you everything you need to see, from the very beginning.

April 17

Dear diary, He looked at me today. In math class. His eyes are so perfect, they're brown but they're green and oh they're so perfect. Who gave him permission to look so perfect? Why did the teacher have to sit him so close to me? Why do his friends have to think I'm stupid?

April 20 Dear diary, Our hands touched! He asked me for a pencil, math class again of course, and as he took it from me our hands touched. He smiled almost like he did it on purpose. I thought my heart was going to fly out of my chest.

April 23 Dear diary, Today is his birthday. I know because his friends were talking about the party they're gonna have this weekend. Apparently they're gonna marathon some horror movies. I wonder if he gets scared, I wonder if he's as disturbed by the violence as he was when we watched that video last year in health. That one about animal cruelty and fast food chains.

April 28 Dear diary, Today was the bio class trip to the zoo. It was incredibly lame and we had to answer questions about the different animals and crap like that. But the most wonderful thing happened, he was in my group! I spent the whole day with him and he talked to me. None of his friends were in our group, so he hung out with ME. I helped him answer his questions at the end. And the best part is he sat with me on the bus ride back to the school. He sat with me! I hope I didn't make a fool of myself, I hope I didn't weird him out.

April 29 Dear diary, New seating arrangement in math class. I swear the math teacher wants me to never be able to focus on math again. HE sits right next to me now. If I haven't said before the desks are in rows of 2, then 3,and then 2 again. I now sit next to him in a pair of desks right by the door. He smiled and said he was "happy with this arrangement". He's happy with this arrangement, he's happy sitting next to me!

April 30 Dear diary, We talked all math today. Neither of us got any of the questions done, we only talked about the Marvel Cinematic Universe compared to the Marvel Comic Universe, and a bunch of other superhero things. He knows so much about all of it. He's such a giant dork, he's so perfect.

May 4 Dear diary, He asked me to hang out with him and his friends at lunch! He asked me and I did and his friends were actually really nice and he tried to teach me how to play Magic: the Gathering and I sucked but he thought it was funny and he laughed and oh his laugh is so perfect. When the bell rang and I ran off so I wouldn't be late for class he called out "May the fourth be with you!" Huge nerd.

May 6 Dear diary, We've been hanging out for a few days now and today he hung with my friends and I. He said my friends were cool. Isn't that by extension saying I'm cool? I think it is. I also think I may be falling in love with him. But I barely know him! I don't know.

May 7 Dear diary, He asked me to go paint balling with him and his friends this weekend, on Saturday. Or well I think it's paintball. He called it Ground Assault and said he'd teach me how to play and provide all the equipment. His friend's uncle owns the place and I looked it up online and it looks like paintball. I said yes, of course, but warned him that I'll suck, I'm not a sporty person. He laughed and said "me neither".

May 8 Dear diary, He explained how it works, it is paintball but you're divided into armies, each army has a commander who stays in the tower with a walkie talkie and gives out commands. The objective of the game is to seize the other army's tower by launching a ground assault. Apparently it's based off an old computer game where you could either do sea, air, or ground assaults to seize your opponent's base. I'm really excited it sounds super fun!

May 9 Dear diary, Oh man oh man oh man! That was so fun. He was the commander of the army I was on, we had our asses handed to us on a silver platter but man it was fun. I was the only person on my team (blue team) who got to the red tower but there were too many guards, I couldn't get in. By the time I had an opening I had to run back to try to defend our tower. He's such a good commander though, his instructions were clear and everyone listened, we just needed a more defensive strategy I think. We're gonna play again next week.

May 23 We won today! Finally! It's totally because he listened to my strategy, I said we needed to keep three behind instead of two and he seemed doubtful but it worked! The third person hid in the bushes and on his command they jumped out and bam! Got all the intruders which then made the red commander call his defenders to our tower assuming we were all there in order to have defeat the attackers. But nope I was waiting and I got my chance and I ran in and I flicked the switch that means the tower was seized! We've been having strategy discussions every math class but this strategy just came to me last night and I'm so glad he listened or else we would've lost like the last two weeks. Apparently it's a guy named Nathan's turn to be commander next week so he'll be down on the field with me.

May 30 Dear diary, I don't know what's going on. I’m glad I had you in my bag. Everything's wrong. We're hiding right now. There's someone outside, I can hear their footsteps. We were playing Ground Assault like every Saturday. This time Nathan was commander and he sucked, our team was a mess. I didn't care though, I was in the woods with him and we were on a mission to get to their tower without getting caught. Surveillance like I usually do. We could just see their tower and we were counting numbers when there was a weird noise. The air turned stale and tasted of copper, a low rumbling was everywhere and yet I think it wasn't actually there. He looked at me and I knew he could hear it too, something primal twisted in my gut and I glanced at the tower, no one there seemed to notice but we knew something was horribly wrong. Before I even knew what happened he was running forward towards the tower, shouting something. But it was too late, the black smoke that had started rising from the back of the tower told me I was right in my feeling of something being wrong and I ran. The roots grabbed at my ankles and the paintball gear made it hard to run but I managed to carry myself a good distance aways before I turned back and saw only the black smoke creeping through the trees. I felt it before I saw it, a shockwave the knocked me off of my feet, the heavy paintball gear making my fall even harder. Then the sound, a horrible, single note that echoed over and over through the smoky forest. I knew before I could see the flames and feel the heat that the old propane tank that powered the tower had exploded. I cried his name and stumbled through the trees back towards the red tower, when I entered the clearing where the tower now lay as rubble, I thought for sure he was dead. I was numb as I walked through the carnage looking at the faces of each person, each burnt and maimed body that I passed. These were all people I knew, though I couldn't recognize some. None of them moved. He wasn't anywhere to be found, none of the bodies looked at all like him. I'd recognize his features, no matter how damaged. I soon gave up and something took over as I began to drag everyone away from the still burning remains of the wooden tower. Body after body, it didn't even occur to me that there were far too many to be just the people we played with. Eventually I had the bodies lined in two rows at the edge of the woods across the clearing. I still hadn't found him, I couldn't understand why help hadn't arrived yet. A sound in the bushes caught my attention, it sounded like a moan. Someone could've been thrown back by the blast. It was him, oh it was glorious to find him behind those bushes. I checked him over for visible injuries, the only one I could find was on his right arm. It was bent at an odd angle, too high up for it to be his elbow. When I moved his arm slightly he winced in pain. The sight was horrifying, his bone stuck up out of his upper arm, just a little ways above his elbow. I was on autopilot and couldn't even hear my own voice as I told him what I was going to do. Retrieving some undamaged cloth off of one of the bodies I pushed the bone in hard as I had been told to do in first aid. I think. I quickly tied the cloth around his arm as tight as I could and it didn't seem to bleed for too long after that. We decided to head back to the main building and make sure help was on its way. I helped him up and we walked together, with him leaning on me because of some pain in one of his legs. We walked and walked and walked. The main building seemed to have disappeared, so did the paths. Nothing seemed right. It still doesn't seem right. Eventually we found our way here and since then we've been hiding, scared and confused. The footsteps outside continue like someone is pacing, I think I can hear them mumbling to themselves. He's looking at me strangely now for writing in this, I think he wants to see who's outside but I'd have to do it. He's in so much pain, his arm looks a strange colour. It's been hours and now it doesn't seem like help is coming. God, if you exist, please help us.

May 31, morning Dear diary, Last night I went to see who was outside, it was a woman. She quickly invited us to follow her and explained that she had been pacing because she didn't know how to invite us to come with her. Everything in my body had a bad feeling about this but I was wrong. It's wonderful here. They've treated us like royalty, we are their special guests. His arm is getting worse though and they don't know what to do. Something is... Different about these people. They don't know anything about first aid and they didn't know what I meant by dead bodies when I explained what happened at the tower. Some part of me wants to say they aren't human but that would be stupid, though I guess it would only be just as stupid as the fact that we appear to be in an entirely different world. Nothing is right and something is bugging me a lot I just don't know what it is.

May 31, evening Dear diary, A wonderful feast and celebration just happened to honour us as their guests. The food was delicious, I don't know what I was so concerned about.

June 4 Dear diary, We've been here for a little while now, I had trouble remembering the date. Everything is perfect. I haven't seen him since the feast but I trust that he's totally ok. I know I am and he's too perfect for anything bad to happen.

Dear diary, I don't know what day it is anymore, and frankly I don't care! Everything is perfect. I danced all night. Everything is perfect. They gave me some pretty, new clothes that feel really nice. Everything is perfect. I'm looking at the stars right now and everything is perfect.

Dear diary, I think I saw him today, I was down trying to steal some food from the kitchens with my friends. It looked like him hiding at the end of a hallway. Why was he hiding? Everything is perfect here.

Dear diary, Something's in my room! I was sleeping and having wonderful dreams but I woke because there was a strange sound. Must of been one of the animals that live here in the village though, no one could get in here and why would they want to? Everyone has everything they could ever want here, everything is perfect!

Dear diary, I was wading in the stream and someone caught the corner of my eye. I ran to catch up with them and see who it was. Why were they running? Where did they go? Why would they want to be anywhere but here? Everything is perfect here.

Dear diary, It's been awhile since I wrote in you last. A fair season has passed and now the leaves are changing colours. I can't remember how long ago I came here to this perfect place. I think I lived somewhere else before. Flipping back through the pages of this thing I've always called a diary it would appear that something happened to me. But how could anything happen in a world so perfect? I don't like the words I used before in this book. Violence and death and pain, what are these things? I feel I should know... Who is this "he" I was infatuated with? I think I'm forgetting something important.

Dear diary, Everything is perfect, I must tell myself, everything is perfect. My world is falling apart at the seams. A kitchen boy with a missing arm approached me today, he had beautiful eyes but he told me nasty things. He said I must run away with him! I think he may be the boy that I talked of far earlier in this book. Run away? Why would I do something so foolish? It's the dead of winter and this random kitchen boy is telling me to run away with him!

Dear diary, He approached me again today, he says it is the 31st of December and that we must run tonight. I believe that number and strange word are dates like the ones earlier in this book. Everything is so confusing and I witnessed something today that I should not have seen. It was just after the boy talked to me, I was headed up from the corner kitchens where he had dragged me to talk, I heard voices. One of these voices was unmistakably the voice of the old, fat man who runs the village. The voices came from in the main kitchens where they were preparing lunch for everyone. The man demanded that more of something be placed in the stew. When the kitchen lady tried to say that they shouldn't, he yelled at her! He demanded again that they put more of it, what he referred to as the agent, in the stew. He said that a few people have woken up thanks to "that rogue kitchen boy". I'm terribly confused by everything.

Dear diary, It is still the same day I think, but the sun has set and everything is dark. I'm crouching currently in the bushes waiting to make the stupidest decision in my life. I'm going to leave this not so perfect, perfect village with a strange kitchen boy who's missing a limb. Oh what happened to the common sense I had? I suppose my common sense was lost when I overheard another conversation at supper. I sat close to the kitchen and only half attempted conversation with those around me, I was still confused and of course I was writing in this. A kitchen lady asked someone I couldn't see from where I was a strange question. The question was "Why that one specifically?" And the response from the person I couldn't see was "the ones like that have the highest risk, that's why we place someone to follow them. That one specifically has happened to notice the stalker several times recently." My immediate question was what's a stalker but some part of my brain quickly made the connection that it's a person who follows someone. Who was being followed? A thousand questions and confusions and doubts continued through my head as I ate. By the time I finished my food they were gone and everything seemed perfect again. That's how I knew something was wrong and that's why I'm here. I think I'm that one the kitchen lady and other person were talking about.

Dear diary, It is my first day ever in my life that I am on the run. The boy met me soon after I stopped writing in here last night, when he noticed it tucked into my shirt he laughed a little and said it was good that I was still writing in here. We left quickly, staying in the shadows until we were well out of the village. We kept going until the sun rose and now we are hiding out in a small cave until night falls again.

January 3 Dear diary, I've officially been on the run for three days and I'm starting to remember things. I read the pages earlier in this book and I understand things now. I remember things. I realize now how false the perfectness of that village was and I'm chilled to the bone that I couldn't recognize it.

January 5 Dear diary, I remember so much now, and I am afraid. I witnessed some horrible things in that village. I watched someone get hanged and thought it was humorous, I watched people beat each other to death and thought it was fun! I hate to imagine all those poor souls being drugged into believing it was perfection... Being drugged into forgetting who they are. What was that? There was a noise outside, he's asleep next to me, please let it be an animal.

January 8 Dear diary, I can't find him, I can't believe I found you. I'm hiding the best that I can while still trying to find him. That noise I heard, it was my stalker from the village and we were defenceless. We easily got dragged back here to the village but I managed to twist away and get lost in the crowds until I worked my here. This endless maze of kitchens and halls makes it perfect to never be found. God that stupid word, nothing is ever perfect! It makes it Easy to never be found.

January 9 Dear diary, I saw him at lunch, if only I could get to him. I can see the dazed look on his face, he's starting to look like all the others already. He's starting to look happy in this hell hole.

January 10 Dear diary, I discovered something in my wandering. I found a library full of old and huge books. I'm now hiding in a back corner and I've been reading, researching. I think I found out what brought us to this place, this alternate dimension, parallel world, whatever it is. And I think I found out how to get us home, I just don't know if I can do it. I know how to do it, I know I need to do it, I think it may send at least some others back to their homes, but I don't know if I can be responsible for that.

January 12 Dear diary, He looked at me today. His eyes are the only thing in this place that come close to perfect. I've decided I must do it, for him. I don't know how I feel but I think it may be love. I think I love this boy I hardly know, yet know so well. I still don't remember everything about before, about where we're from, but I do know that I have to save him. He matters above all else.

So you see? Though I cannot even remember your name, you are all my diary is about. You are all I care about and that is why I must do it. I'm so sorry I had to leave you with only this, only a beat up diary with pages marked for you to read. But I have to do it now, I hope this works. Please, understand why I'm doing this. Please don't hate me, I know you hate violence but it's the only way. What started with flames and death must end with flames and death. At lunch today, no matter how confused you are, run. Okay? Just run, but not away. When you see those flames do just as you did the first time and run to help. You will make it home, and sending you there will be the last thing I do. Goodbye perfect boy, enjoy the life I'm giving to you.

[ice-cream-beat]

6. Vanitas & Roxas friendship maybe? I don't see many interactions with these two.

okay so this ended up longer than intended (but considering I currently have a 94k-word fic series that’s all about getting Vanitas to a tolerable point and he’s s t i l l not there, you gotta figure I’d get tl;dr on anything that’s not about him being a (total) psychotic brat (100% of the time)) BUT I had fun with it! It definitely made me think and stretch my creativity a bit.

#06. things you said under the stars and in the grass

summary: “Light and darkness are two sides of the same coin.” So what about those who hang in the balance between? Roxas + Vanitas, post-KH3.

Ao3 version here

inb4 “but Roxas shouldn’t be able to dual-wield in KH3!!”

/ / / / /

“You’re still here?”

The flat greeting was nothing less than what Roxas expected. As he closed the portal behind him and warm evening air replaced the biting chill of the Corridors, he spared only the most passing of glances at the wielder sitting nearby.

Well, “sitting” probably wasn’t the right word. Dark-clad and only just visible against the wide, blue-black sky behind him, the only other presence in this world sat atop one of many broken stones scattered about. He was hunched over to rest his elbow on his raised knee, his temple pressed against his fist while his free leg hung casually over the side. For all intents and purposes he looked utterly casual and at ease – but his glinting, golden eyes were a little too watchful, a little too aware despite the utter disregard he spat in Roxas’ direction.

Vanitas wasn’t just sitting – he was perched there, at the highest point in the area (intentionally, surely) which meant nothing and nobody would come or go around here without him knowing. It reminded Roxas of the alley cats in Twilight Town, lurking on rooftops or windowsills as they watched the people pass below with territorial interest.

“That’s what I should ask you,” Roxas replied, unruffled. “I actually leave.”

“But you come back,” Vanitas pointed out, sounding annoyed. “All the worlds out there and you gotta pick this one to come meditate every week?”

Roxas ignored him. He had his reasons for being here and they weren’t any of Vanitas’ business; really, he figured Vanitas didn’t even expect an answer. That remark felt like more of a jab than a real question. Instead, Roxas moved a few yards away to sit down in the patchy grass with his back to another large stone. The Keyblade Graveyard – or the Badlands, as he’d heard others refer to this desert area away from the ancient battleground – was still a scene of stone and dry earth as far as the eye could see… and yet there were a few small spaces, like here, where green had begun to rear its head. Maybe one day it would manage to grow into something bigger and better, perhaps an oasis in this otherwise dead land, but for now the short blades of grass were still fighting to stay alive.

It was quiet out here, almost eerily so. Roxas felt the buzz in his head and the ache in his skull immediately begin to fade, and barely held back a relieved sigh. He leaned forward and closed his eyes – just for a moment – and the darkness was comfortable against his eyelids. Soothing. When he raised his head again he saw in the corner of his eye that Vanitas had turned away, but there was no doubt that he was still watching Roxas with his other senses.

“If I keep coming back, then why do you stay?” Roxas wondered, turning the question back at him. “You’re not worried the others’ll find out?”

“If I was, don’t you think I’d have ambushed you by now to shut you up?” Craning his neck until it popped, Vanitas gave a low, dismissive snort. “Nah. You’re not gonna tell anybody.” He somehow managed to make that simple observation sound like an insult. Or maybe it was just arrogant, saying he found Roxas predictable.

Roxas had been surprised, to say the least, to find that one of the Thirteen Seekers had survived the War. As far as Sora and everybody else knew, all of Xehanort’s forces – minus Isa – had died on this land. The only thing more more surprising than Vanitas’ existence was that he chose to linger here, of all places… Then again, it wasn’t as though any other wielder had reason to come here. Too many bad memories and scars to tempt them back to an empty world. If Vanitas sought to avoid detection, this well-known place was, ironically, probably the best place to hide out.

Roxas wondered, but he never asked. This was the third time they had met here and both subsequent times he had expected to return and find Vanitas gone – but he was always here, always in the same place as though he never left. Maybe he didn’t.

Leaning back against the cool rock, Roxas stared skyward. The night was clear and packed with hundreds of stars, the moon half full and casting numerous shadows along the ground. Whenever a breeze decided to pick up, it was light and only barely disturbed his hair and the strings on the front of his coat.

He figured this night would pass in total silence like the last, so he was caught off guard when Vanitas spoke again. “So. How’re those headaches?”

Roxas straightened up quickly, shooting him a hard, suspicious look. Vanitas was preoccupied with absently scraping something off the backs of his knuckles, but the corner of his mouth was twisted in a knowing smirk. He hadn’t asked out of concern. He’d wanted a reaction. “What?” Roxas countered lamely.

“Don’t play stupid,” Vanitas chided. “You come out here every week, all wound up and tense, then you stay for a couple hours and by the time you leave you’re relaxed. You come here to get away from something. It’s always at night, so the only thing this world has goin’ for it is that it’s quiet and dark, which is apparently worth the risk of being around me. You’re way too friend-happy to want to get away from people, so if you come alone, you must be hiding something from the others. And if you haven’t told them about me… you must not want them asking why you were out here in the first place.“ This time he did look over, one eyebrow cocked as if in challenge. Daring Roxas to say he was wrong.

Roxas stared. That was the most he had ever heard Vanitas speak at once – no, he had probably just said more now than he had in every other meeting of theirs combined. More than that, his analysis was impressively in-depth and on-point. Despite his projected apathy, he was very observant – and intelligent. When Roxas hesitated, Vanitas turned away again. “Thought so.”

“Why do you think I have headaches?” Roxas wondered once he’d recovered from his surprise.

“You sit in the shadows. You always look straight at me unless the moon’s in my direction. It’s because even the moonlight hurts your eyes, right?”

Roxas was too baffled to even feel annoyed. It was all true. He came out here because it was the opposite of Twilight Town – dark, quiet – and he needed that break when the pain and noise in his head became too much to bear. It didn’t happen often – at least, most occurrences were minor and pretty easy to ignore – but on some nights, like tonight, it was overwhelming. He wasn’t sure if “headache” was the right word, but it was close enough: his thoughts became muted and scattered and he found it difficult to focus, like his brain was a radio suffering heavy interference and spitting out static. His emotions were a rollercoaster: he was fine one minute, angry the next, and then borderline depressed without warning. With this mess came a throbbing that only worsened as his frustration built, which in turn made him even more frustrated, and the painful cycle continued.

There was nothing he could compare it to, and yet it had been happening at random ever since waking from Sora’s heart. Had Xion been going through the same, Roxas might have suspected a connection there with the timing, but she’d said that she was fine. He had been honest with her and Lea both about the issue, but neither of them had an answer for him. Being around anybody seemed to make his head hurt more, but for some reason his best friends made it even worse – and as Vanitas had guessed, that was why Roxas hadn’t told them about his outings here. It seemed pointless to make them worry over him even more when they couldn’t do anything for him, and he didn’t want to try and tell them that their presence sometimes hurt him more than it helped him.

Out here, in the unnatural silence and simple darkness, Roxas was able to concentrate through all the pain and chaos in a way that no other location provided. That was one reason he kept coming back. The lack of hostility on Vanitas’ part, while suspicious, was another. Of course, that didn’t mean he trusted Vanitas; Roxas always kept him in his sight.

As if on cue another bolt of discomfort shot up from the base of his neck to his right eye. Roxas pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, grunting sharply and quickly trying to clear his mind. He was thinking too much. He needed to pull back and refocus on the sky and the silence and let them take all the noise and feelings away–

Except some of those thoughts and emotions had voices now, echoing in his head in different volumes and tones and each one grating on the painful pulses that were in rhythm with his increasing heartbeat. He grasped at his head with both hands now, only vaguely aware that he was hissing under his breath at them to shut up–

He didn’t know how long it went on, but it felt like forever. When the static faded and the pain finally subsided, he found his shoulders were damp with sweat and his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. It took a moment for the dots of light in his vision to clear and let his eyes readjust to the low lighting. It took another for him to realize that Vanitas was crouching in front of him.

Roxas was on his feet in an instant – a movement that nearly put him on his back when a sudden sense of vertigo made the world around him spin. Vanitas also stood, but more slowly, clearly unalarmed by Roxas’ defensive reflexes. Only then did Roxas notice that he wasn’t as close as he’d initially thought; they were about three arm’s lengths away from one another, but that was still closer than they had ever been. Too close for an enemy.

Vanitas’ stare was calculating, belying the disinterested expression on the rest of his face. “You’re a real mess inside,” he observed. Those eyes thinned, a cocky and borderline amused look. “You have no idea what it is, do you.” It wasn’t a question.

To that, Roxas could only glare. Vanitas was mocking him, that much was obvious, but it was hard to tell whether he actually knew something.

When the silence stretched on, Vanitas smirked again, openly this time – and then suddenly asked, “It’s always about your friends, isn’t it?”

Puzzled, Roxas hesitated, expecting an explanation for that random question – only to hear himself blurt heatedly, “At least I have some!” He reacted with a start, eyes wide, as Vanitas gave a short, cutting bark of a laugh.

“You really are screwed up.”

Just like before… Why… Try as he might to check his temper, Roxas felt it flare. “What is going on?” he snapped. “How much do you know? What’s wrong with me?”

“Hmph.” The amused light in Vanitas’ eyes went out. “You really haven’t figured it out? The voices, the feelings… the sensation of your mind being pulled in different directions at once?” When Roxas didn’t answer, Vanitas turned away with another impatient sound and started to walk off. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he muttered.

“What…?”

“It happens when a person’s split into two. If the heart and mind can’t cope, they start reaching out to their other halves.” He stopped. “Think,” he prompted without turning around. “Whose voice does it sound like? Who comes to mind when you let your guard down and let those emotions in?”

‘Split into two.’

Roxas scowled. “I’m not half a heart–”

“Ventus,” Vanitas answered, talking loudly and firmly over him. “Even I can see him in you, and I don’t mean your face. But you probably have some Sora mixed in there, too, huh?” Roxas stayed silent; Vanitas glanced over his shoulder. “I wonder how long you have until you break under all that weight.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Roxas shot back. He didn’t know much about Vanitas – just that he was tied closely to Ven, he felt like Ven, and he had been involved with Xehanort for a long time.

Vanitas turned back around, his features carefully controlled and utterly unreadable. “…If you think I’m broken,” he said coolly, “you’re more sheltered than he ever was.” Again he turned away, but Roxas called after him.

“Wait.” For a moment he thought Vanitas would ignore him and keeping going; but after a few more steps he did stop. “Do you… do you know how to stop it, somehow?”

“Even if I did, why should I help you? And why should you think I can be trusted?”

Those were both good questions. Roxas suppressed another pained wince. “If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve tried it a few minutes ago. I haven’t told anybody that you’re alive, either – and if you–”

Vanitas moved in a blur, disappearing and reappearing beside Roxas in the space of a heartbeat. Roxas tensed, but not fast enough – something struck the back of his knee and he was shoved backwards as a dark light flashed in front of his face. He hit the ground on his back before instinct finally kicked in and he summoned his Keyblade, but the sound of clashing metal said that Vanitas’ weapon was faster. It pinned Roxas’ blade against the dirt, rendering it useless. Roxas opened his left hand, prepared to summon a second – but then Vanitas knelt down on his left, jamming a knee between Roxas’ chin and collarbone. He put enough weight and pressure forward to keep Roxas pinned and make breathing highly uncomfortable, but not enough to crush his throat.

Despite that flurry of movement, Vanitas looked bored as he stared down at Roxas and ignored his feeble struggling. “ ‘If I want to keep it that way, I should help you out?’ ” he guessed. Then he sneered, cocking his head a fraction. “Don’t even entertain the notion that you’re in a position to threaten me. Actually, I wonder what would happen if I did kill you here and now – would one of them feel it and come running? Or is your heart the only one too weak to stand on its own–”

Roxas let go of Oblivion and summoned Oathkeeper in the same hand to lash out in a hasty, messy, and angry slash that worked: Vanitas jerked backwards out of the way and Roxas leapt to his feet, both Keyblades in hand now as he rounded on the other wielder. Vanitas sneered again, his poise relaxed as he walked slowly to the right. Roxas did the same, so that they both moved in a wary circle as they regarded one another.

“Looks like you got some of his temper. Good.” The casual nonchalance was gone from Vanitas’ voice. It was deeper now, almost a growl, with a touch of something intense and hateful. “Show me what you can do with it.”

Roxas moved first, but only by a quarter of a second.

Minutes later, Vanitas hit the ground as his Keyblade went clattering out of reach. Roxas remained on his feet, but slouched and panting hard. When Vanitas made no sign of immediate recovery, both his Keyblades disappeared in identical flashes of light.

With a neutral-sounding grunt Vanitas sat up, but he moved no further than that just yet. He ignored Roxas’ tense reaction and again popped his neck, dismissing his own Keyblade as well without even looking at it. Then he met Roxas’ hard stare with a look that appeared… expectant. “You’re welcome,” he said flatly.

Roxas dared to relax slightly as, once again, Vanitas threw him for a loop. “Huh?”

Vanitas took his time in standing, continuing to disregard Roxas as though they hadn’t just fought tooth and nail for nearly ten minutes. He dusted the dirt and grass from his sleeves before adding matter-of-factly, “The pain makes you angry. That anger needs an outlet. You have to know how to get rid of it long before you can ever hope to control it.”

What–? Then Roxas realized: the aches and confusion and general chaos in his head – it was all gone. His thoughts were silent except for his own. “An outlet?” he echoed.

“Once you know how to separate yourself from it, you can learn how to consciously block the connection. You’ll never have to worry about it again,” Vanitas added lightly, sarcasm twisted tight around the words as he glanced sidelong at Roxas. “Assuming you have what it takes.”

Is that… really why he fought me?

Vanitas didn’t wait for a response. He returned to his stone perch from before, leaping up onto it with ease. “Get lost,” he added indifferently. “Meditation hour’s over.”

Again, Roxas stared. The more things made sense, the less they did. Why had Vanitas helped him after saying he wouldn’t? And was he offering to do the same if Roxas came back again? As much as he wanted to ask, Roxas could tell he wouldn’t be getting any straight answers. He would probably be pushing his luck, too. So after watching Vanitas uncertainly for a few more moments, he finally opened a Corridor to home and left without another word.

* * *

The next time Roxas returned, Vanitas was still there. And he gave Roxas all of three seconds to prepare himself before he attacked.

They fought, Roxas felt better, and he left, without the two of them exchanging a single word. The next time, it was the same thing. And then the next, and the next.

It could hardly be said that Vanitas was doing him a kindness. He didn’t pull any punches; Roxas walked away with more than a few bruises and cuts, fortunately nothing that couldn’t be healed or hidden, and he was half-convinced that several of those attacks would have killed him outright if he hadn’t been quick enough to avoid or parry them.

One such evening, their match ended in a draw. That seemed to be the silent agreement, at least, when neither of them moved to rise from where they each had fallen. Roxas lay on his back in the short grass, his gaze settled on the sky but unfocused. Aside from his rapid heartbeat, the only sound was his and Vanitas’ low panting, which both of them managed to quiet within a few minutes.

For the first time in weeks, Roxas spoke to him. “What are you gonna do after this is over?” Vanitas was silent. “You’re only helping me because you get somethin’ out of it,” Roxas told him. It was a simple statement, not an accusation. “You like fighting me, right? If I don’t need an outlet anymore, I don’t need to fight you. Then what?”

Another long silence followed. He decided not to push. If Vanitas didn’t answer soon, Roxas would take that as indication that this visit was over. Or maybe Vanitas had changed his mind, and wouldn’t teach Roxas anything in order to keep him coming back. It seemed like a pretty flawed way of thinking at a glance, since Roxas could just as easily fight somebody he knew… but then he immediately realized that no, it wouldn’t be the same. He could go all out against Vanitas without fear of killing him – not because he didn’t care if he did, but because Vanitas did the same against him. Vanitas could keep up with everything he had to offer, including the anger that Roxas funneled into his attacks. He would never risk using that kind of power against Xion or Lea or anybody he called a friend. Killing Heartless didn’t do it for him, either. They weren’t really a challenge.

“You have to focus on the one who’s interfering with your head,” said Vanitas suddenly. Roxas sat up to look at him, but Vanitas was still on his back. Maybe it was just because Roxas hadn’t heard his voice in such a long time, but he thought it didn’t sound as harsh as he remembered. It was still rough, however, still laidback and apathetic. “It’s the same as when you put all your frustration and focus into fighting. Focus on Ventus and Sora instead, and push out all the thoughts and feelings that aren’t yours. Push them away with the same force you use to swing at me. It’s no different – it’s just in your head instead of your hands.”

Roxas opened his mouth to reply, only to shut it again after a few seconds. So that was the secret – and Vanitas had given it up, just like that?

Vanitas did sit up then, setting his arm on his knee and still not looking over. “Try that the next time you feel overwhelmed,” he added, “and if you’re strong enough, the connection will close. If you’re not, that’s your problem, not mine.”

Slowly, Roxas nodded. “Right… Okay. I’ll try it.” Vanitas only continued to stare at the distant horizon. “So you’re staying here?” Roxas inquired.

“Does it matter?”

No, Roxas supposed, it really didn’t. Unless Vanitas started causing havoc somewhere or attacked one of his allies, there was really no reason to tell anybody about him now – which also meant there was no need for Roxas to concern himself with where Vanitas ended up. Logically speaking, there was no reason to press… But he was curious, and that was something else.

“I’m not telling anybody either way. It’s just weird that you’d pick this place.”

“Hmph. Speak for yourself.”

Fair point. It wasn’t as though either side had good memories of this world; Roxas and Vanitas were probably both the odd ones out for returning here willingly. Between that and the technique Vanitas had taught him, it seemed as though they had a few things in common.

After a couple more silent minutes of letting his body temperature cool, and then casting Cura over his scrapes and bruises, Roxas stood up. There was really nothing else to be said, but he still hesitated. After weeks of more or less getting used to Vanitas’ company, it was odd to think this was the end of it.

Extending a hand, he summoned a Corridor that would take him back home, where he belonged. Still he lingered. And then he said the only thing that seemed appropriate.

“…Thanks.”

Something like a surprised twitch went through Vanitas’ shoulders – it was so subtle that Roxas nearly missed it in the dark – and he finally turned to fix Roxas with a hard, almost suspicious look. Roxas held it, just long enough to say that the word was an earnest one.

Then he turned and left without looking back.

* * *

Vanitas liked the silence. He just didn’t care for the stillness.

He wasn’t antsy by nature. He was patient, collected, and generally pretty easygoing, despite the impression he’d probably given his enemies. In those first few weeks after the dust had settled and, broken and clinging to life, he’d literally dragged himself back to full health, he learned to appreciate the calm and quiet of the barren world he’d always taken for granted. Even his warmongering spirit and hungry bloodlust had settled down for a while, content to let him take in the simple joy of being alive.

And then Roxas had shown up.

The urge to kill him had been strong. Part of it was personal – his voice, his attitude, his face – but most of it was the sudden and jarring presence of another person after being alone for so long, which somebody like Vanitas could only perceive as negative and regard as a threat. Curious, however, Vanitas had resisted and watched and waited. His patience paid off.

Roxas was an unexpected challenge – but a welcome one. Vanitas had been so intent on the seven Guardians before that he hadn’t given much attention or even thought to their allies, and he was admittedly surprised to find that Roxas was easily on their level. Unlike the Seven, however, there was something dark in him – but not like Terra, not like Riku. It wasn’t the darkness of pride, but of layers and layers of hurt that had been covered over and scratched open again on numerous occasions. Roxas carried darkness like a scar, not a weapon.

Vanitas wasn’t sure how he’d been able to tell the difference so clearly. Maybe it was their common tie to Ventus, or his own proficiency with the nature of all kinds of darkness, or something else entirely. He found Roxas to be an easy read, and he exploited it. Everything Vanitas told him was true, but not once had his advice considered Roxas’ best interests over his own.

On that last evening Roxas guessed right: Vanitas had started looking forward to their fights. It was a challenge he couldn’t get elsewhere – not yet, anyway – and it kept his skills sharp, besides. The arrangement benefited them both, but most importantly it benefited Vanitas.

It had until now, anyway. A week after Roxas left for the last time, Vanitas remained in the Badlands. He would go elsewhere, eventually, but much was happening in the World since the end of the War and it was best to let that smooth over before he risked being detected. It was boring here, but that was fine. He was patient.

More than once, he wondered if he should have cut Roxas loose so soon. Vanitas hadn’t done him that favor out of kindness, either, but because he’d only tolerated Roxas as long as he was quiet. He was observant, much more so than Ventus, and Vanitas didn’t like his commentary or his questions, or the idea that somebody else was reading into him, and accurately. It was then that he also realized he’d become more or less comfortable with Roxas’ presence, willing to turn his back on him outside of their fights and just generally tolerating him far more than he had tolerated anybody other than Xehanort – and that needed to stop. Vanitas’ options came down to giving Roxas what he wanted or killing him; and after assessing his ability for this long, Vanitas could have honestly said (to himself, at least) that he wasn’t totally confident in winning a true death match.

So they had both finally gotten what they wanted – Roxas, answers; Vanitas, independence and isolation – but the more it weighed on Vanitas’ mind that he wouldn’t find another opponent of that caliber willing to fight him regularly, the more he began to feel something he never had before. Another form of negativity, but this one wasn’t angry as much as… disappointed, with the echoes of a frustrated ache towards what he might and maybe should have done. He had no name for that emotion. Worse, he had nothing and nobody to take it out on.

He was beginning to seriously consider battling his Unversed – something he knew he would regret – when he suddenly heard the night air split in two. It was a familiar sound, but he had already conditioned himself to disregard every part of his routine with Roxas that it startled him all the same. Vanitas was on his feet in a heartbeat, facing the yawning portal with a hard stare and tense poise as his mind shuffled quickly through the possibilities, the worst being that Roxas had given him away, after all–

It was indeed Roxas who stepped through. His eyes moved straight to Vanitas, who summoned Void Gear to his side without otherwise budging. And then, to his surprise, the Corridor closed. Roxas was alone.

It was a struggle for Vanitas to keep the curiosity off his face – at least, until he put two and two together. “What. Too weak to control it, after all?”

Roxas gave a light shake of his head. “No. I did like you said, and it works. I can’t hear them anymore.” He actually smiled, and that threw Vanitas for a loop more than anything else might have.

“And?” he prompted. He had to keep his tone snappy to hide his confusion. “You’re here, why?”

In a flash of light Roxas also summoned his Keyblade – one of them, anyway, which was how he always began in their fights. He never went all-out from the start. “I was bored,” he said simply. “I thought you might be, too.”

Vanitas stared. Roxas waited.

Are you stupid?

What do you really want?

What, are you here to try and get another read on me or something?

Each of those questions and more flickered through Vanitas’ mind, a few making it as far as the back of his tongue but no further. He hesitated for a full half a minute, all of his thoughts hidden by the dead silence of the desert and his own carefully neutral face.

Then he broke the stillness by shifting his weight slightly, and just that simple movement made Roxas tense warily. Smart, Vanitas couldn’t help thinking with some approval.

“Don’t get used to it,” Vanitas told him. He hoped Roxas didn’t read too much into what was meant to sound like resigned indifference.

A second later there was the resounding, familiar, and thrilling shriek of steel on steel.

[imaginesheaven]

Nathan Prescott x Fem!Reader ~ Colors

The smoke lingers in the air only for a short moment before the wind blows the grey cloud away. Absently you wipe away the ash, which is falling on your knee from the cigarette that dangles dangerously between your lips.

A loud noise brings you back into the reality. One of the new kids probably lost a bet and had to activate the fire alarm. It happens quite often.  

The burning end of your cigarette lights once more as you inhale the smoke. You are not even thinking about leaving your favorite spot. The stairs in front of the back door of the school is a lonely place. Not even Samuel comes back here very often. It’s your time to be alone for a bit… until yet.

The door gets pushed open roughly. You are not fast enough to make space for the hurried visitor. The person bumps into you. “Hey!”, you exclaim extremely pissed, but your next words get stuck in your throat.  

Just a few inches away lies a gun on the stairs. A real weapon on the campus. Without a word the boy picks up the gun to shove it back into the safety of his red jacket. Clear blue eyes meet your [E/C] ones. You notice no color in them. Not a sign that these orbs are actually alive. Not a single feeling in them except for pure panic. Just dead blue eyes.

Neither of you says a word, but both of you know you saw the gun. “Want to take a puff?”, you break the ice cold silence, while you hold out your cigarette for the boy to grab. Nathan clenches his hands even tighter into fists. His knuckles are completely white by now.

“Cat got your tongue? … Or is the infamous Nathan Prescott afraid of smoking?”, a slight smirk appears on your lips matching to your mocking tone. “I don’t even know you!”, his mind is still racing, which results in being unable to form more than a single stupid sentence.

Your challenging pose triggers his arrogance. Nathan takes the cigarette with his free hand. Like you a few moments ago he releases a cold grey cloud. The two of you stare at each other through the smoky air, which makes the situation a bit mysterious. You are still waiting for a warning or his usual “I will sue you”-line, but after his first puff he seems more relaxed.

At least that’s what his dead blue eyes tell you. “That’s not a cigarette”, Nathan states after another moment. You give him a slight shrug, “I never said it’s one.” He doesn’t make attempts to give you back your Mary Jane.  

“You know you are chilled more fun, Prescott”, you are ready to continue with your probably shitty day. Nate grabs your arm to stop you from walking away, “If you say a word about what you saw I …” Bored you roll your eyes and interrupt him, “You’ll sue me and my family. Get yourself a few new lines, Prescott.” Matching to your sarcasm you take back your “cigarette”. It finds its old spot between your lips as you make your way back to your dorm.  

Of course you can feel his blue eyes on you. It’s probably the first time someone spoke back to him like you just did. To be honest you never saw such lifeless eyes. Somehow you want to fill them with colors and emotions. Even if you are not sure Nathan makes it to the day he gets twenty years old with this dangerous lifestyle of his. Such a shame for those beautiful but dead blue eyes…

Nathan grabs the strap of his camera tighter. Since three people saw him with a gun his mind is racing nonstop. He almost feels the pressure on his shoulders. It’s like a weight that drags him down into the darkness.

Suddenly Nathan stops mid-step as something or better said someone catches his full attention. You are lying on the grass with your own camera in your hands. The light shines on your [H/C] hair in a certain way that lures him in. Nate never payed attention to colors and light in pictures, but right now he feels inspired. There is a need to freeze time with help of a photo. Not his usual black white ones. A picture that lives because of the colors.

Without noticing Nathan comes closer until you notice his presence. “Prescott”, you greet him still focused on your camera. “[L/N]”, he responses in the same tone. Not even a bit surprised you raise your head to see what he wants. The sunlight blinds you for a second so you shield your eyes with your hands to get a better look at him.

It might be the light but he seems more alive for a second. “You did your research. Good but not necessary. I didn’t say a word to anyone about your… toy”, you get back to your work taking more pictures. For a brief moment anger washes over Nathan. Why does his reputation keep haunting him? He is way more than this … at least he was once more than his reputation, but that’s a long time ago.

Insecure Nate wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. His head doesn’t work the way it used to do. Not a single word comes over his lips. “You are still here, Prescott…”, you comment his stand by modus amused. Only one glimpse at his face tells you to keep your sarcasm low.

Nathan, who rules the whole Blackwell Academy and half of Arcadia Bay, stands in front of you like a lost puppy. And that’s pretty close to how he feels.  

“Make yourself comfortable. Take a puff. You know, chilled more fun”, you give him your Mary Jane, while you release a last grey cloud of smoke. Uncertain about his decision Nate sits down an arm length away from you. “I don’t bite, Prescott”, he places his camera between you and him to reduce the distance. It’s just a little move and still he feels a bit closer to you.

Neither of you disturbs the beautiful silence with lame small talk. The sounds of the nature mixed with the clicks of your camera is exactly what he needs right now. Nothing bothers him. Not even a single bad thought tortures him. His reputation stays away. His family stays away. Everything is perfect even if it’s just a beautiful illusion for a few moments.

Like you two have done this before you hold out your hand towards him and Nate gives you back the Mary Jane. Out of the corner of his eyes he watches your movements closely. The cigarette dangles between your lips. The smoke that dances around your face in a perfect way. There is nothing you do differently and still your grey cloud of smoke seems more alive than his whole body.

“So, Marijuana”, Nate states before he could hold himself back. “Yup, keeps my sick mind sane. Sometimes I feel like an overflowing sink, but with drugs I’m just a colorful sunrise”, you explain as you lay aside your camera. It’s an unusual explanation, but Nate understands every word you say. Your Marijuana reminds him of his blue pills he takes sometimes to turn off his mind.

Adrenaline rushes through his veins by now. All the time he wished for someone who understands what he is going through. A person who looks behind his reputation and his bad poker face. Excited Nathan points at your camera, “I saw a few of your pictures. They are not bad.” And as soon as his self-esteem got pushed it’s beaten down again.

You literally can see how Nathan realizes what he said a second ago. There is this pure panic in his eyes again. At least you know what he tried to say, “Well, thank you. Yours are not bad either… Just a bit colorless. Don’t get me wrong. I love black and white pictures, but the world is already grey enough. The most people can’t see the colors around them anymore.”  

Nathan’s relieved next words get stuck in his throat as snow starts to fall. “Oh my god! Is that really happening?”, you hold out your hand to catch one of the snowflakes. It’s still pretty warm so why is it snowing? “Let’s take a selfie together to prove what we just saw!”, you exclaim excited like a child, while you grab your camera.  

You press your shoulder against his to get both of you onto one picture. Nathan isn’t even near to being ready for a selfie. Your energy and spontaneous way overwhelms him a bit … but in a good way. The picture shows you smiling and Nate being confused.  

“Wow, handsome”, you tease him smirking, which makes him blush for a brief moment. “You know; you are not even close to the things people say about you. The most people just don’t you know yet. Hell, you are quite nice … for a Prescott”, you say honestly as you take more pictures of the snowfall.

Nathan’s heart skips a beat just to continue to beat as twice as fast than before. He always was a book with a big unbreakable lock, but you are tearing through his pages and his ink without trouble and fear of what you might find between the lines. You don’t care about the things he has done or the status of his family. A day ago you saw him with an effing gun and still say he’s quite nice. How is that even possible?

Nate opens his mouth to reply also something hopefully nice as someone calls his name. Victoria waves her arm to tell him they have places to be. And the sad reality caught him again in its darkness. A quiet sigh comes over his lips, while he turns his head to face you once more.  

In the meantime, you got your bag and make your way towards the girl dorms. Against your sake you throw a last glance over your shoulder just to find Nathan already looking at you. The lifeless cloud lures him in so you give him your best smile.  

“Stay strong, Prescott.” It won’t be easy to bring him back on track, but he is worth the try…

“You are hanging out with [Y/N]?”, Victoria states the obvious surprised. “Yeah, got a problem with that?”, Nathan replies not as rough as he wished for. “Actually yes”, another voice behind them joins the conversation without their permission.  

David Madson crosses his arms as the two students turn around to face the security guard. “I don’t care about your opinion”, Nate is still high on the colors you spread in your near. Everything inside of him screams for inner peace and silence.  

“Oh, you will, boy. You are not going to lay a single finger on [Y/N]. She is a lovely girl with the power to do great things in her future, while your presence is just like poison. Killing everything nice in a person. You are toxic and not good for her”, David states fuming. You remind him of Chloe and he will do everything it costs to keep you safe from people like Nathan.

Victoria looks at said boy waiting for him to defend himself. There is nothing. It scares Nate how true David’s words are. He only is going to dull your sparkle and wash away your colors. “You are crazy, old man. Let’s go, Nate”, Victoria just drags him with her towards the halls of Blackwell. “I will keep an eye on you, Prescott”, David yells after them.

His words keep playing in Nathan’s head over and over again. They ignite his doubts and those bad thoughts to torture him again. “What’s wrong with you? Are you scared of this wannabe security guard? Your father will sue him and his whole family until there is nothing left of them!”  

Nathan doesn’t even listen to Victoria anymore. He needs to stay away from you, but how will he manage that?

Matching to the grey sky a few raindrops fall to the ground. The whole scenery is just as depressing as the fact that Kate tries to take her life. “No! Kate!”, you exclaim on the brink of tears. Your heart clenches painfully at the sight of your long-term friend.

She stands on the edge of the rooftop of the Prescott Dormitory. Her arms stretched out ready to jump into the emptiness. Fear paralyzes you completely. Not a single fiber of your body moves to safe Kate from her destiny.  

“Do a backflip!”, one of the students yell through the thick tension you can almost grab with your hands. It snaps you out of your helplessness. Tears run down your cheeks as you hit Victoria’s cellphone out of her hand. The anger wells in you like a volcano. “Are you fucking delirious? That’s a brand new…”, she starts to rant about your action.

“Are you even human?! There is a girl wanting to taker her life because of all of you!”, no one can feel the pain in your chest. Neither the fear to lose someone you are really close to. It tears Nathan apart to see you like this.

A crying mess and still perfect in every way fighting for the things you believe in. Victoria keeps arguing about her phone, while your eyes are glued to the rooftop. There is still hope for a miracle. No one got your back. No one keeps you company as you go through hell right now.

Nathan gives himself a mentally push to stand by your side. That’s his fault. All of this chaos came alive through his hands. Kate attempting a suicide. You crying your eyes out. David was right all along. His presence is like poison. His touch is toxic. It kills everything around him. He is no good. Especially for you…

Nathan takes your hand softly in his to let you know you are not alone. Everyone can see what he just did, but he doesn’t care anymore. Even Victoria stops her hate parade. You give his surprisingly warm hand a slight squeeze. It’s more than a lame “I appreciate that”. You don’t want to admit it, but you need him right here, right now.

Little do you know he needs you as much as you need him. You keep the bad thoughts and his doubts away. Nathan really tried to avoid you, but something keeps pulling him towards you over and over again. He’s like a moth drawn to the flame. You two smoked now and then together the last few days. It’s not really hanging out together, but he wished it would be more than that.

You snap Nate out of his thoughts as you let go of his hand. Relieved but still crying you bury your face in his shirt. Max talked Kate out of taking her life. It doesn’t matter it wasn’t you, her best and probably only friend. Kate’s alive … for now.

Nathan wraps you up tightly in his arms. “It’s okay. It’s over”, he isn’t the best at comforting, but at least he tries. And suddenly Nate is the colorful one of you two. The optimist hanging onto life. “Prescott! Into my office”, Principle Wells disturbs your little moment. Nathan’s blue eyes meet your concerned [E/C] ones.  

“You are in trouble, right?”, you can see it clearly in them. His doubts, his panic, his bad conscious. He releases you to follow Well’s order, “I’m never in trouble.” Oh, he is. And now you are pulled apart at the seams. Do you want your old life, which is Kate coming down from the roof, or your new life, which is Nathan who transformed from the villain to your shining knight in armor.

Your heart is torn so badly. Kate said all along he isn’t good for you. But what are you supposed to do?!

Sighing you inhale the smoke like your life depends on it and somehow it does right now. You let fill up your lungs with the grey cloud, while your mind gets knocked out by the drug. You are not allowed to smoke in the dorms, but who cares?  

A light knock catches you off guard. For a second you hope it’s Kate even if a part of you know it can’t be your friend. She is in a hospital hopefully getting better so she can leave soon. As you make your way towards the door you give the still white canvas a kick. Of course your creativity and inspiration leave you on your own when you need them most to distract your sick mind. That’s it. Your own personal chaos.  

“Prescott”, you exclaim surprised. “Hey… uh… I just wanted to check on you”, he gives you a slight smile you have never seen before on him. You can tell it’s honest. Nathan cares about you probably more he wants to admit.  

“Okay, I guess. Thanks for asking”, you step aside so he can come in. Nate accepts your offer and looks around taking in every little detail that tells him more about you. “Are you in trouble?”, you won’t beat around the bushes anymore. You want answers. Now. Nathan shrugs as he steps over the canvas that still lies untouched on the floor. “Tell me the truth”, you grab his hand to get his full attention, “I can see it in your eyes.”

Nathan escapes your grip roughly, “Do not analyze me! … Please.” He starts yelling, but ends up whispering the last word in a plead. An ice cold silence appears for a few moments. You pushed him to the limit what the people around him always do. It shows you how close to the edge he is.

“Is Kate … alright?”, he tries desperately to keep going the conversation. Nathan wants to make sure he didn’t destroy everything between you two. “Uh… I don’t know. She didn’t want to see me, but she is alive. That matters, right?”, you can’t fool him with your faked smile. Nathan already can tell the difference between them. Both of you know Kate rejected you because of him.  

The pure sadness in your eyes kills him inside. That’s more torturing than his doubts screaming at him in his head in this moment.  

You are no good for her. You are poison. You kill everything around you. Your touch is toxic. You will drag her with you into the darkness. You know that…

Nathan wraps you up in his arms as a single tear escapes your eye. You cling onto him for your dear life. To hold you in his arms feels so wrong and right at the same time. These unknown feelings you trigger in his chest are addictive. He doesn’t want to live without them anymore and still…

You lied. You lied all of your life and you dragging an innocent person with you. You will go down with your mask of lies. First suspended, then jail and death will be your last station. You can’t hide this side of yours forever. [Y/N] will find it and leave you because you are truly a monster.

“Nathan?”, you snap him out of his pretty dark thoughts again. The way your [E/C] eyes look into his soul makes him feel vulnerable. It’s almost like you can see into his soul. To your surprise he leans forwards to press a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry”, Nate means every word. “There is no need to apologize”, you reply slightly smiling. Oh, there is. You just don’t know it yet.

Nathan presses his lips into a thin line as you turn around to get your cigarette from the ashtray. It’s for sure he can’t go on like this forever. One day he is going to explode and spill every single secret he keeps. But for now he just wants to enjoy the time you two have left.

“I haven’t eaten in a while. Want to go the Two Wales Diner?”, you suggest wanting to get out of the dormitory for a bit. Your room seems like a prison cell showing every single memory you want to forget right now. “Yes… Uh… Here”, Nate puts his red jacket over your shoulders. You mumble a shy “Thank you” as he takes your hand in his like it always belonged there.

A few of the students stop for a second and stare at you two walking through the hallways holding hands. Nathan isn’t really the person of showing his feelings openly, but with you it’s different. He wants you to be part of his life and he wants everyone to know that. Your presence by his side pushes his self-esteem so extremely. Nate never felt that perfectly fine before without taking his meds.  

“What a beautiful sight! Mrs. [L/N] and Mr. Prescott together”, both of you stop immediately. Of course you recognize the voice of your teacher Mr. Jefferson. Nathan’s whole body stiffens and he gives your hand almost a painfully squeeze.  

“I need to speak with you, Mr. Prescott. Your last work was … not what I expected of you”, Jefferson doesn’t wait for an answer and walks a few steps away. There is an unspoken order Nathan should follow him. “Go to your dorm and stay in there”, he avoids to look into your eyes. You would see sheer panic in them. You don’t question his plead because of his shaking voice. Something is up and he doesn’t want to involve you.

Without looking back over his shoulder Nathan catches up to Mr. Jefferson. His happiness turned into a cold fist of panic clenching his heart together in its iron grip. “So, [Y/N]. I never thought of her to be our next guest in the Dark Room”, Mark takes his glasses of to clean them.  

“No! Please!”, Nate exclaims a bit too loud for Jefferson’s taste. The boy can feel how he traps himself in the net of his teacher. “Oh, you like her. That’s surprising me now”, Mark enjoys the fear in his widened blue eyes. Another mistake on Nathan’s list. “The Vortex Club plans a party. I want to see both of you there. You know the routine”, Jefferson orders without a trace of mercy and usually he gets what he want.  

“Have a good day, Nathan”, Mr. Jefferson leaves pleased with the outcome of this conversation. Nate feels how his mind completely shuts down as he realizes what he has done to you. He made the only person that genuinely cares for him to Mark’s prey. You are in serious danger.

That’s your fault. You are no good for her.

Tears start to pool in his eyes as he runs his fingers through his hair. No matter how he hard he thinks there is only one way to keep you safe. It’s going to rip him apart. It will turn his heart to stone, but it needs to be done.

“I’m sorry”, a single tear runs over his cheek.

It costs all your courage to raise your shaking arm. The light knock on the door keeps repeating in your head. There is an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Panic? Maybe. You haven’t heard from Nathan for hours since he sent you back to your dorm. And by now your heart tries to break through your ribcage to be free for the first time.

After an eternity Nate opens the door finally to reveal the mess he has become. His room is completely dark. All the blinds are closed, while the air is smoky. “[Y/N] …”, there is so much desire in his tired voice, but his once more dead blue eyes say something different. His mind is made up, but his body declines his decision. Now he wages a fight behind his mask.

“Is… everything okay? I was waiting for you and … I’m concerned. No, that’s not true. I’m scared”, you stumble over your own words. Nathan almost takes a step forward to wrap you up in his arms, but only releases a loud sigh.  

“Okay, there is something I need to tell you. I was only playing with you. Hayden and me had a bet running. I couldn’t know you would fall for me and clinging on me like your life depends on it. I have a reputation to keep so could you just stay away from me? It’s like one of your stupid colorful pictures. I was red. You are blue. Together we are purple. And know what? I hate fucking purple”, every word he says rips your heart slowly apart. Piece by piece.  

Against your sake tears escape your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him like a lovesick fool, but your body betrays you. “Nathan”, between the rushed breaths you manage to say his name hoping to change his mind. “Don’t make a scene now, [L/N]”, you can’t see how he clenches his hands into fists. Oh, how lovely it would be to punch himself right now.

“Nathan”, you try your luck again not knowing how close you are to tearing through his walls. “Leave. It’s better for you”, with that Nate closes the door. The wood isn’t thick enough so he can hear you crying for a few moments. That’s probably the most heartbreaking sound he has ever heard.  

Nathan rests his forehead against the cold door. Why can’t he do one single thing in his life right? With you he had everything and now he is on his own again. His only partner by his side is his bad conscious. He hurt himself with hurting you so badly.

“Nathan? You forgot your jacket on the ground”, Hayden knocks for a moment, but gives up easily as Nate doesn’t answer. You left it behind like he did it with you. He doesn’t want to get his jacket back, which has your scent on it probably. Suddenly all his walls break and Nathan curls up in a ball on the floor to cry his eyes out.  

Behind the blinds occurs the eclipse telling about the danger that comes towards Arcadia Bay.

“I’m so ready for the End of the World Party tonight. I can’t even decide what I should wear”, Victoria exclaims excited as she texts someone else at the same time. Nathan only nods his head hoping it would be enough answer for her. It’s no secret how heartbroken he is. The last few days he just hid himself in his room.

He is tired of keeping up his mask of lies. The sadness he bears in his heart drags him down. Even farther he ever was before. “Come on, Nate. You are no fun at all”, Vic notices his lack of attention. He wants to reply something as his mind shuts completely down.

There you are chasing down a blue butterfly with your camera in your hands. A slight smile appears on his lips taking in every move you make. He notices that you are not as colorful as usual. A cloud of sadness floats around you. It’s clearly to see you are heartbroken too.

“Can you believe it? [Y/N] almost begged that she can come to the Vortex party without being a member. So pathetic”, Victoria rolls her eyes confidently. Nathan’s smile fades away immediately, “What?! When?!” He grabs Vic’s arm desperate for the information.

“Chill down, Nate. She asked me yesterday, but I said no. Who does [Y/N] think she is?”, she replies escaping his iron grip. “But you are in, right?” The world around him starts to spin. His mind races and is blank at the same time. You are still in danger even if he stays away from you. Jefferson took a liking in you. He will do everything it takes to get what he wants.

“[Y/N] is not allowed on this party, okay? Tell everyone so she really has no chance to come. I don’t want to see her there”, panic rushes through his veins. Finally, Victoria lays her phone aside to look at him, “I know you two had something for a very short time – just to mention, but isn’t that a bit too dramatic? … Oh man, she really broke your heart.”

Nathan gets up from his spot on one of the picnic tables to pace around like a wild animal. “No, I fucked up this time. It’s my fault.” Vic furrows her eyebrows confused. He never admitted one of his mistakes so why now?  

“You are acting really weird, Nathan”, she says, but doesn’t get a reaction from him. “I need to sort a few things out. I’m back for the party”, Nathan runs towards his car without a goodbye. Victoria crosses her arms fuming he cares more about you than for her. She is still his best friend after the two went through together.  

“Hey, [L/N]! Still want to go to the Vortex party?”

“God, I’m so sorry”, Nathan whispers to himself, while running his fingers through his hair nonstop. He tried everything he can think of to keep Jefferson away from you. He begged, offered money from his parents, threaten to go to the police. Nothing worked.  

“Everybody hates me. Everybody … even [Y/N]”, he made a lot of mistakes but pushing you away was the worst of them. Somehow Nate always managed to keep his broken world up, but now it’s crashing into thousand tiny pieces, which are burying him underneath them.  

You are worthless. Are you finally accepting it? Took you long enough, Prescott.  

“Shut up! Shut up! … I know, don’t rub salt in my wounds. My life is hell”, Nathan tries to block out the voices in his head, but they keep screaming at him. This will never end. He is a prisoner of his own mind. The other guests of the Diner don’t even pay attention to the broken boy. Exactly like his whole life was.  

“She is better off without me”, is he trying to convince himself or the voices in his head? Nate closes his eyes wishing himself far away from his problems. “Nathan! You are out of your mind again!”, Victoria snaps him out of his thoughts as she sits down on the other side of the table. “The party is in half an hour. You have to be fit for that!”  

For a second he stares at her with his blue eyes, “For getting high I don’t need to be fit. Could you leave me alone?” He buries his face in his hands. “But the Vortex Club got a special guest! You don’t want to have a tripping mind in front of [Y/N]?”

Nathan lowers his hands in slow motion to look at Victoria, “What did you just say?” Maybe his mind plays a prank on him. Maybe all of this is just a super twisted dream. “You are going to clear things out with [Y/N]. Maybe after one or two drinks”, Vic explains her plan to bring you two back together. It’s not her intention to see Nate or you happy.  

“No! She is not coming! I told you!”, anger washes over him as he slams his fist on the table. Victoria isn’t frightened of him anymore when he does this. “Calm down. She probably is not going to show up anyway. That little brat had a nice conversation with Mr. Jefferson. He is worried about her and then they took a walk together”, Nate can see the jealousy in Vic’s eyes. Little does she know what monster Jefferson is. A monster on its hunt.

Without a further word Nathan runs out of the Diner directly towards his car. He plants himself behind the steering wheel as he searches through his pockets for his phone. Just in case he got your number if something like this happens.

A mixture of panic, adrenaline and energy rushes through his veins. It keeps his hands from shaking too much. "[Y/N] here. I can't answer right now. Leave a message or try it again later. Thanks!" Mumbling a ton of curse words Nate throws his phone on the passengers seat.  

The car's engine comes a live with a roar. Not caring about the traffic rules Nathan drives like a maniac back to the Blackwell Academy. A lot of students make their way towards the swimming hall where the party is located. He snaps his phone in case you call back before he gets out of his car to look for you. "Nate! The party started already!", Taylor informs him smiling.  

What if Jefferson got her already?!

Nathan pushes himself to run as fast as possible to the hall. His heart stops for a second. How is he supposed to find you in the chaos of the party?! It's too full of people and too dark to recognize a single familiar face in a rushed manner.

Nate boxes his way through the crowd as someone puts his hand on his shoulder. "Nathan! Good you are here!", Hayden yells over the loud music. "Have you seen [Y/N]?!", his panic grows every second he doesn't know if you are safe. The already high boy shakes his head.  

On the limit he runs his fingers through his hair. Maybe someone else saw you. But the most people are way too wasted to recognize even their own parents. Suddenly a light beam shows Jefferson in the crowd of celebrating teenagers.  

Nathan knows he's after him since he declined to drug you for the Dark Room. But as long he is on the party you are still out of his reach. Now it's a game on time. Who finds you first?

Nate turns back to run to the Prescott Dormitory. You might be there safe in your room, where Jefferson never can't get you. He's angry at himself for putting you in such great danger. Breathless he sprints over the campus. Nathan pushes open the doors to the dormitory just to see Max, Chloe and Warren coming directly towards him.

There is not time to deal with them. With his head down Nate tries to get past them. Since he beat Warren up on the parking lot, the boy craves his revenge. "Care to explain, Nathan?", Max holds out something. "I got no time for that yet", he replies already caring on with his plan, "Wait! Where you in my room?!"

Before Nathan can take a step closer, Warren headbutts him roughly. Nate tries to grab his gun to scare them way. Unfortunately, Warren is faster than him and kicks the gun out of his hand. "You like hurting people, huh? Like Max! Like Kate! Like me! Like [Y/N]!", Warren kicks and beats Nathan nonstop.  

"Stop! Please!", he doesn't beg for him. Nate thinks he deserves the pain for all the mistakes he has done, but your time is running out. Your life on the edge of danger and it lies in his hands to safe you from Jefferson.  

"No!", the voice sounds familiar, but through the curtain of pain he can't connect it to a face. The beating stops finally. A hand strokes his bruised cheek softly as he opens his eyes slowly. "Nathan", you wipe the blood from his nose away with the sleeve of your shirt, "Oh my god! Are you alright?"

A single tear drops from your eye on his cheek, while he takes your hand in his. "Yes, now is everything alright", relief washes over him that you are safe … for a while at least. "Come on, we are going to take care of your face. That must hurt", with your help Nathan gets up from the ground. The pain hits him hard, but it's not priority yet.  

Nate leans against the wall to take in how much you still care for him even after what he did to you. "We have no time for this. There is so much I have to tell you, but first of all... I love you, [Y/N]. I truly love you and I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I will explain you everything  when we get away from here. It's not safe. I know you probably hate me, but do you trust me?", his thumb strokes your knuckles softly.  

Without hesitating you wrap him up in your arms, "I never could hate you, Nathan. I love and trust you, but you have to tell me what's going on." Before he can say a word, the doors of the Prescott Dormitory gets pushed open once again.  

"We had a plan, Prescott", Jefferson shakes his head disappointed. Nate takes your hand in his to drag you along the hallway. "Nathan! You know, you can't run. I will find you!", Mark yells after you two preparing his syringe. He will hunt both of you down if it's necessary.

"Keep running no matter what happens!", of course you are confused, but you trust him without a doubt. You remember the way you two run. It's the way directly to the back door of Blackwell. He pushes you firstly out of the door, while he throws a glance over his shoulder. No trace of Jefferson yet, but he won't give up easily.  

Now you drag Nathan with you towards the parking lot, where both of your cars wait. "There is no way out of this!", Mark appears out of nowhere and is already too close for your taste. You close the door of your old truck right in time. Jefferson hits his fist against the glass of your window as you start the engine with shaking hands.  

And with that you two are out of his reach. Your heart keeps beating hard against your ribcage. You don't know where you are driving as long as it far away from Mark Jefferson. Breathlessly Nathan puts his hand on yours. In what fucking chaos you just rushed into?

"We can't go back, right? So where are we going?", you break the uncomfortable silence, but your eyes are glued to the street. "A motel for now, I guess. Then we will think about our next steps. I … I have to warn Max. She was onto me and Jefferson. She is probably in danger", Nate takes out his phone.

"Max, it's Nathan. I just want to say I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt Kate or Rachel or … I didn't want to hurt anybody ... Everybody used me! Mr. Jefferson was coming for me. I hope all of this shit is over soon.... Watch out, Max. He wants to hurt you next so hurry... Sorry, I'm so sorry", Nathan tears up between his confession and still you feel the same for him.

You give his hand a slight squeeze to show him he hasn't to go through this on his own. The rest of the drive you two sit in silence trying to process this hell of a day. You don't stop at the first motel in the case Jefferson is still hunting the two of you.  

The rain cools down your racing mind as you get out of your old truck. "Do we have even money to pay for a room?", Nathan grabs your hand softly. It's like he needs to make sure you are not going to leave him. "I've got a credit card. Don't worry", he gets out his wallet, while you two make your way towards the motel.  

"Oh, what brings two young people like you out here?", the old granny behind the check in wants to know. She doesn’t wear glasses so you guess she can't see Nate's beaten up face clearly.  

Nathan puts his credit card on the table, "One room... please." She furrows her eyebrows due to her unanswered question. "We are on a road trip", you lie to hide the fact you two are on the run and go from your past.

"Oh, in Arcadia Bay is a terrible storm right now. Good, you are here now", the granny searches for the key for your room. Nathan and you exchange a quick glance. "Have a good night, sweeties!" You follow Nate closely to fall into his arms after you closed the door behind you. Suddenly your mind realizes what the last few hours happened and what consequences are waiting.

"Okay, I want the truth. I don't care how terrible it is. I want to hear every detail, Nathan", you mumble into his shirt close to cry your eyes out. He sits down on the big bed and pats the place next to him. "It's a long story..."

He tells you the whole story of how this chaos started. He spills all of his secrets. All of his mistakes. All of the trouble he caused. He lines up every flaw of his. He can be honest for the first time in forever.

"I fucked everything up what I can fuck up. I'm a monster. I'm sorry, [Y/N]", for a monster he apologizes a lot. You run your fingers through his hair, while his tears wet your jeans. Nathan is curled up as a ball on your lap tearing up now and then during his story.  

"Nathan, you are ripped at the edges like a lot of people, but you are still a masterpiece. For me you are perfect and not even close to a monster", you comfort him. Nate sits up to face you properly with his red and puffy eyes, "But you can't forgive me, right? I can understand. I also hate myself like the rest of the world does."

You take his face in your hands softly so you wouldn't hurt him, "I forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself. Yes, I hate what you have done, but I could never hate you. You would have needed more support." With your thumb you wipe a single tear from his cheek.

Nathan closes the gap between you two to press his lips on yours. A whole firework of emotions gets triggered in your chest as you start to kiss him back. He leans his forehead against yours after you two break apart. "Why didn't I find you earlier? Everything could have been different..."

Without a word you pull him with you to lie down on the bed. It was a hell of a day and both of you deserve some sleep. Nate buries his face in the crook of your neck, while his arm is draped over your waist to keep you as close as possible. The fear of losing you will never leave him alone. The white ceiling stares back at you as you draw circles on Nathan's arm. It takes a long time for him to relax and then to fall asleep finally. It's over for now. You allow yourself to close your eyes.

Sad Ending

You open your eyes as you release a grey cloud of smoke. Absently you wipe away the ash, which is falling on your knee from the cigarette that dangles dangerously between your lips.  

A loud noise bring you back into the reality. It sounded just like a gun shot, but you are not quite sure. Could also be firecrackers in the bathroom once again. Nathan Prescott is famous for this old and really annoying prank.  

Beautiful silence wraps you up in its calmness, while your thoughts dance around in your head. The Marijuana keeps the bad ones low. Time seems to stop for a while as the sun starts to hide itself behind the trees.  

Suddenly your buzzing phone snaps you out of your daydream. A bit pissed that you got disturbed once again you answer the phone without looking who calls you. "[Y/N], reporting for duty", is the first thing that comes to your bedazzled mind from the Marijuana. "[Y/N]! Didn't you hear the sirens?! Come to the front door!", Kate exclaims without a greeting.

Sighing you make your way to the said spot in front of the Blackwell Academy. The burning end of your cigarette lights once more as you take a deep inhale of smoke. A crowd formed in front of the doors, which surprised you a bit. What did you miss?

"Nathan shot someone in the girls bathroom", you hear the teenagers whisper around you as you push your way towards Kate. "I knew something like that would happen one day." - "He's a bad one." - "Now his father can't help him anymore." - "Poor little rich kid getting what he deserves."

The mumbling dies down immediately when the doors get pushed open. Two police officer form a path in the crowd for the third officer who escorts a handcuffed Nathan Prescott. On the top of the stairs stands Principle Wells observing the scene with a sad expression on his face.  

Kate takes your hand in hers as she hides her face in your shoulder. She seems relieved that he got arrested. The bullying is going to stop now probably. Softly you rub circles on her back to comfort her and let her know she isn't alone.  

Nathan's head hangs low and his shoulders slump forward. It's like the weight of the entire earth is lying on them. He probably needs also some comfort like Kate, but no one is going to do that. Nate is on his own once again.

He raises his head only for a few seconds. Your [E/C] eyes meet his clear blue but dead ones. There is no trace that these orbs are actually alive. No color. No feelings. Apparently Nate accepted his fate already. He surrendered to the demons around him. Everything inside of him died.

Your orbs are alive and full of color. But that's not what hypnotizes Nathan. He can see sympathy in them. No disgust, no arrogance, no amusement. Honest and true sympathy for him. Nate could get lost in them, but he will never get a chance.  

In a crowd of people who hate him, he finds you. Way too late.

The officer pushes his forward so he walks a bit faster to the police car. All the people who pointed their fingers at Kate for this terrible video of her, are now doing the same thing with him. You don't know a lot of his backstory, but he doesn't deserve this. Being pushed by others destroys a person piece by piece. It's a terrible slow death.

You feel bad for him even after all the thing he has done. Nathan will never know colors.

He will die with those dead blue eyes...

"Happy" Ending

A few soft kisses wake you up from your almost comatose and dreamless sleep. "I know you are awake", Nathan comments your attempts to get five more minutes of sleep amused. In surrender you open your eyes to see him looking down at you, while a slight smirk rests on his lips. His alive and colorful blue eyes are beautiful compared to his dead ones when you two met.  

You two have nothing left except for the clothes you are wearing and his father's credit card, whish isn't unlimited. There is no place you have to be. No plan to follow. Nathan is completely free for the first time in his life. To be with a person who loves him unconditionally is all what he needed to feel alive again.  

"You... You are beautiful", Nate presses a kiss onto your forehead matching to his lovely words. You notice how close you two are. He held you tight through the entire night. Maybe he was afraid to wake up without you by his side like this is just a beautiful but limited dream.

"Sweeties! I made breakfast", the old granny informs you through the still closed door. Nate gets up from the bed you two share mumbling something about taming his hair. You roll over to lie on his warm side. Your whole life got turned over, but you couldn't be happier right now.  

"Wow, handsome", you compliment his wet brown hair that clings onto his forehead. How did both of you get so lucky? Nathan leans down to capture your lips into a kiss full of desire. "You are dripping", you push him softly away from you, "I don't need a shower yet."

Smiling he grabs your hand in his hand to pull you out of the bed. You get his hint and follow his wish. "I'm starving. I hope the old granny can cook", Nate pulls you as close as possible towards him. "Let's find out", you literally can feel his excitement of his new life. What will bring you the new day?

"Sweeties! I'm so happy you two are here. The storm in Arcadia Bay was terrible. It destroyed half of the town and even killed a few people", the granny greets you as she puts two plates with scrambled eggs down on an empty table.

"Thanks", you mumble suddenly not so happy anymore. People died. Maybe friends of you and you weren't there. Your hometown destroyed. You should call your parents, but what are you going to say to them? You run away with a murderer and don't plan to come back?!  

"We need to think of a plan", you place your hand on Nathan's to get his full attention. "Do we? Can't we just drive until we have enough?", he replies stuffing the eggs into his mouth. For a second you think about his suggestion. "I were never outside of Arcadia Bay", you just never had time or money to travel.

"Then let this be our plan … if you want", Nathan loves his new freedom, but he loves you more so he would give it up for you. If it's your wish to go back, Nate will follow you without a doubt. And you know that, but it's actually not what your heart desires.

"Okay, we are going on an adventure", you agree enjoying his rare smile. "Slept well, sweeties?", granny joins the conversation with two cups of coffer right in time. "Have never slept better in my life", you admit. Nate raises just a thumbs up, because he's busy eating.

That's your new life. He is your new life. The clearly broken Nathan Joshua Prescott with the former dead blue eyes.  

"I truly love you, [Y/N]."  

[ao-no-exorcistfanfiction]

Chapter 20: Traitor

I emerged from my room the next morning, eyes still puffy from all the crying. It had taken me forever to fall asleep; Rin’s sharp words cutting into my memory like a knife. But being an exorcist meant getting the job done, no matter what one’s own personal circumstances may be.

I dressed in my more casual exorcist gear, which involved black pants, black boots, and a black racerback. My bow slid comfortably into my boot. I inspected my face in the mirror and groaned when I saw how awful I looked. The skin around my eyes was puffy and swollen and I had a pimple growing on my chin. Just perfect, I thought.

I made myself a cup of coffee and hesitantly made my way to the dining hall. Unsurprisingly, Rin was there, his eyelids drooping, and his bedhead all over the place. It gave me a sick satisfaction to see that he looked as bad as I did. He was sitting with Shima and his two brothers, Kinzo and Juzo. 

I steeled myself up, put on my best teacher face, and marched over to the boys. Kinzo whistled at me as I approached. “Damn, Shikito. Rough night?”

I glanced at Rin, who was blatantly not looking at me, and took a sip of my coffee. “You could say that.”

“What brings you to our table? Are you so desperate to see me this early in the morning,” Kinzo’s attempts at flirting were lame; they always were, but that didn’t stop him from being a good friend/exorcist.

“It’s not actually,” I retorted. “But it is a bonus. I’m actually here to talk to Rin.” He looked up at me mutinously, but I kept a brave face and my voice steady. “I have to go to the Myodha meeting today, so you’ll be training with Shura. Go find her after you’re done eating.” All I got was a slight nod to acknowledge my words. 

“Then I’ll be off,” I waved goodbye to the other boys and then did my best to not run out of the room.

——————————————————————————————-

The meeting was held in the Nightingale Room of the inn. All the exorcists sat around a long table; each had tea in front of them, but I was still nursing my second cup of coffee. I sat across from Ryuji and next to Konekomaru. They both seemed surprised to see me, but neither said anything. Yaozo had asked me to come to the meeting; he said I should probably hear what he had to say.

However, while my presence had alerted some people, the lack of a certain presence had caused even more of a stir. Tatsuma Suguro, Ryuji’s father and the leader of the Myodha sect, was no where to be seen. Mutinous comments were being thrown around the room, but they were quickly cut off as Yaozo entered the room, supported by his son, Juzo.

Yaozo did not look good. He was breathing heavily, and he was drenched in sweat. If Juzo hadn’t been there, I was positive that the man wouldn’t have been able to stand on his own two feet. Whatever he had to say must have been incredibly important that he would put that much stress on himself.

Everyone gasped as they took in his condition. Yaozo waved off their concerns, settling into his spot at the head of the table. “I must tell you something,” he announced. “I just received work that Ossama is busy and will not be attending.” I could sense Ryuji’s disturbance of emotions as he processed the news about his father. But Yaozo continued on.

“Today I have called all the family heads, everyone involved in the affair of the right eye, and an impartial party whom I trust.” I assumed that I was the impartial party.

“There is a traitor in our midst.”

The room was silent as Yaozo dropped the biggest bomb no one had expected. Then chaos broke out as shouts of surprise, anger, and fear broke out. “Silence!” Yaozo tried to control the situation. “Only members of Myodha were present during the incident.”

“And only someone from Myodha could break the seal,” added the head of the Hojo family, Uwabami Hojo. “Juzo, give your account of the day’s events.”

Juzo told us the story of how he had called Ossama to help him and Mamushi Hojo, the head daughter of the Hojo family, look over the Sacred Fire in the Monk’s Seat, one of the relics in the Deep Keep. Mamushi had began berating Tatsuma about not joining the exorcists when the fire had suddenly gone crazy. Tatsuma began reciting sutras to keep it under control as Mamushi ran to protect the Right Eye. She managed to reach the eye as the seal began to melt. The force of the fire sent her flying back and Juzo went to help her. Yaozo soon arrived, but the pressure from the melting seal and the fire became too intense and set off a minor explosion, which had caused the majority of everyone’s injuries.

The room fell into silence as Juzo finished his story. “In other words,” Uwabami spoke up. “The only ones near the right eye were my three daughters, Juzo, Yaozo who ran into help, and the high priest Tatsuma. Six people. I have a document here regarding the person involved from stealing the Left Eye from the Deep Keep at the Japan Branch. Saburoto Todo, former warden of the Deep Keep,” he slid a piece of paper across the table. “Juzo… Mamushi… You had Magic Circles and Seals with him in Cram School.”

“What are you suggesting?!”

“Father!?” Both of the people named flew into hysterics. “Do you suspect me?” Mamushi faced her father. “You’re the only ones with ties to Todo,” Uwabami stated, cooly. “He was just my teacher,” she whined. “That doesn’t mean I…” She quickly turned to Juzo. “I mean Shima was much closer to him!”

“Huh?” Juzo’s face was filled with confused fury. “I just liked his classes! That doesn’t make us close!”

“I’m just stating a fact.”

“Anyway, Mamushi, you’re the one who approached the magic bottle!”

“Yeah, I did it to protect the Right Eye!”

“How did you know it was in danger? Ossama told us to run, but instead you…”

“What are you trying to say!”

“I’m saying that your behavior was suspicious!”

“Father! You have to believe me!” Mamushi turned in desperation. “He’s just trying to avoid suspicion by-”

“Mamushi!” Uwabami cut her off. “We’re still deliberating calm down!”

The Hojo girl hung her head in shame, pointedly staring at her hands. “That day…” she murmured. “When the Sacred Fire started moving… It looked like Tatsuma was controlling the flame! He was chanting a mantra I’d never heard before.”

The room was silent until another exorcist hesitantly added, “It did look like he was spurring on.” However, once he realized what he had said, he tried to redeem himself, “But just because it looked that way…”

Uwabami ignored him and asked, “Anyway, why was the Left Eye hidden from us?”

“Did Master Tatsuma know about it?” someone called out.

“Well, it would be strange if he didn’t know, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose so…”

“But surely you don’t suspect Tatsuma of…?”

The room was quickly dissolving into fits of argument. I had stayed silent during the whole ordeal, not reading anyone’s mind, but just testing the emotions in the room. The only intense ones had come from Juzo and Mamushi when their connection with Todo was brought up.

The arguments in the room quickly silenced as Konekomaru exclaimed, “Stop it! Enough wild accusations!”

“Come to think of it,” one of the exorcists turned condescendingly to the Miwa heir. “You and Tatsuma get along quite well.”

This only caused the room to break into conflict once again. 

“Stop it!” Yaozo slammed his hand on the table causing everyone to quiet down. “This isn’t going anywhere! I brought Luma here…” At this, he gestured at me. “…to act as a third party. We’re all aware of her mind reading talents, so I ask that she interrogate each and every one of you. That will be the quickest way to sort this mess out. Luma, will you do this?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree. I didn’t like using my power against people’s will, but this situation could easily put someone’s life on the line. I nodded. “I will personally interrogate all members here, including Ossama. However, I will do so tomorrow. I think it only fair that if the traitor wishes to step forward sooner and confess, they shall receive a lesser punishment than when I discover who it is.”

Yaozo nodded, agreeing with my decision. “Then I guess we’re done for today.”

——————————————————————————————-

I climbed the ladder to the roof of the building and observed the scene in front of me. Melted candle was everywhere, but what caught my eye were the three upright candles, blue flames flickering on the outside two. Shura lay off to the side nursing a beer. Rin was no where to be seen. 

“He did it?” I asked astonished, pulling my whole body onto the roof. 

“Ha, yeah, by accident,” she snorted. “He kept failing, so I told him to go cool off, and as he slinked off the two lit up. Kid didn’t even notice.”

“Hmmm,” I contemplated, expecting the candles.

“What happened between you two?” Her question caught me off guard. I felt my heart constrict as it forced me to remember last night’s events.

“He hates me. Said so to my face.” My voice wavered, tears teasing the corners of my eyes.

“Damn, I really thought he would come around. I’m sorry, Shikito.” I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. This is just the way it has to be. Rin may hate me, but I won’t let that stop me from teaching him to become an exorcist.”

Shura removed her hand, took another swig of her beer, and looked me dead in the eyes. “Just don’t sacrifice your feelings and happiness for his sake.”

But I still thought to myself, After all I’ve put him through, isn’t that what I deserve?

[a-smilethat-explodes]

Chapter 10 Grocery store antics

We all got into Adam's Mustang 10 minutes later. Ben got into the back behind Adam. When I tried to get in the front, Jake pushed me in the back as he claimed shotgun. Great. We all quietly listened to Adam's music, unusual for the four of us, but I wasn't in a real chatty mood at that moment.

"Okay, girls, what's the problem?" Jake finally asked from the front seat.

"Nothing." Ben snapped back.

"Drop it." I stated flatly.

"You guys are acting like a bunch of sorority girls in the middle of a "big fight." Adam put in.

"Thanks, Adam." Ben snapped back.

"I have some tissues up here. We could talk it out, Oprah style, if you'd like." Jake offered.

"We're good." I shot back.

"A good cry never hurt anyone," he replied wisely.

"You'd know all about that." Ben shot back.

"Why are you being such a bitch, Ben?" Jake said in a breathless, high pitched, girly voice.

"Let's just go to the store, get some groceries, and get back." Ben grumbled back.

Everyone was silent as we rode, even Jake, which surprised me. But I knew better then to think that the silence on his part was going to last long.

When the familiar dulcet tones of Queen's "Under Pressure" filled the car at a stop light, Jake shouted, "YEAH!" and then began rocking out. I smirked.

"Dude… Jake… people are…" Adam began though he was obviously holding back his laugh.

"PRESSURE!" Jake shouted, throwing his arm around Adam's neck. "Pushing me down!" he wailed.

"JAKE!" Adam shouted over the music.

But it was hopeless. "Pressing down on you no man ask for!" Jake wailed. "Under pressure! That burns a building down! Splits a family in two! Puts family on streets!" he let go of Adam and began jamming from side to side. "Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah!" That's when I started laughing hard. "Bah, bah, bah, bah!" he wailed. Even Ben finally gave in and laughed at Jake. The tension was broken.

As Jake wailed along with Under Pressure, Adam pulled into the parking lot of the store. We all got out, still laughing.

"Can we play Snatch?" Jake demanded as we walked across the parking lot.

"NO." I shouted.

"Erik!" he whined.

"Remember the old lady called the cops on us the last time we played Snatch?" I demanded pointedly.

"Cart!" Jake shouted, Snatch instantly forgotten. He ran over to the shopping carts, grabbed one, and jumped on the back, riding inside. We entered the store; he got off, jumped into the cart, and shouted at me, "Push me!" I pushed him and he rode, posing like a superhero.

"To the cereal aisle!" Jake boomed impressively. Everyone in the store turned and watched as I pushed him majestically across the store. Adam was bent at the waist, laughing hysterically, and Ben was laughing too, shaking his head. The other patrons of the store looked at us and then all shared a look that seemed to say, "Teenage boys…"

"LUCKY CHARMS!" Jake shouted, jumping out of the cart, and grabbing a box, looking thrilled. There's nothing like shopping with Jake.

"We're out of peanut butter." Adam announced when he could finally draw breath.

"Yes, we are." Jake agreed as Adam walked down the aisle. He jumped back in the cart and bellowed at top volume, "ADAM! DON'T FORGET THE PENIS BUTTER, SWEETIE!"

Ben and I lost it. We leaned against the shopping cart, laughing hysterically. Adam was holding onto one of the shelves at the end of the aisle, kneeled over at the waist.

I looked up at Jake, who gave Adam a shy, girly wave back, and then lost it again.

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind us. I pulled myself up on the cart, still laughing, to find the store manager standing there, arms crossed. It wasn't the first time we'd been spoken to. "Gentlemen," he said gruffly. "I'm going to have to ask you to either start behaving yourself or to leave the store. You're disturbing the other customers."

"I'm sorry, sir." I said, trying to hold back my laugh.

"And you'll need to get out of that cart, sir," he pointed at Jake. "If you fall and hurt yourself, there could be a lawsuit."

"I'm sorry, sir." Jake jumped out of the cart. Once the manager had walked away, he glanced at the rest of us, and then all four of us lost it again. I hung on to the cart to keep from falling over on the ground laughing. "Penis butter!" he rested his arm on my back as he chuckled helplessly.

We got the rest of our groceries relatively quietly. We walked outside and then Jake started in again on begging to play Snatch. "No, dude! Remember the security guard from last time?" Adam reminded him impatiently.

"Come on!" Jake shouted. "You know you love playing Snatch."

"Oh all right." Adam relented. "Once," he said as we got into the car. He pulled the car around to the beginning of the sidewalk. We watched the customers come out of Albertsons carefully.

"There." Jake pointed as an old woman with white hair came out, hands filled with groceries.

"Let's go." Adam revved the engine as Jake rolled down the window. I began to laugh in anticipation.

Jake cleared his throat as Adam sped down the road then leaned out the window. As we neared the old woman, Jake suddenly bellowed, "SNAAAAAAAATCH!" and then brushed his hand over the top of the woman's head.

She screamed, throwing her groceries in the air, and the four of us burst into laughter as Adam quickly sped out of the parking lot.

Sure it was immature but when was Jake anything but?

We went back to the apartment and then I had to go to work. I felt my good mood fading as I anticipated going to work. Paul… overeager girls… crying children… it wasn't looking like a fun evening.

I walked in, a full five minutes early, and found Paul behind the counter on the phone, saying something with a smug smile. "Let me call you back…" he fixed me with a meaningful look as he added with extra emphasis, "Laura."

Think of the hardest thing you have to do. I beat you with trying not to roll my eyes at Paul.

"Bye," he hung up. "That was Laura," he said importantly, stretching, and showing off his fine set of pit stains. Made a guy like me feel real lame for not having a girlfriend.

"Cool." I mumbled as I set down my backpack behind the counter.

"I'll be in my office," he said gruffly and then disappeared, leaving a fresh scent of sweat and cheap aftershave in his wake. I made a face, grabbed the Febreeze off the counter, and sprayed it in front of me. I'd rather smell flowers then Paul. Can you blame me?

Later that night, I casually kept an eye on the customers milling around the small store. They were adults so there was nothing really to watch for… I sat, reading for my next class.

The bells over the doors chimed as it opened. I looked up leisurely to find Christine and Ben arm and arm.

Did I miss something?

"Hey dude." Ben grunted as he tossed Fight Club down onto the counter.

"Hey." I replied automatically.

"What do you want to watch, Chris?" he asked, steering her away from the counter.

I couldn't make sense of it. Not even 10 hours ago, they were loudly bickering in the apartment.

Whatever. I shrugged to myself and tried to go back to my books but I couldn't stop looking up and watching them.

Ben slid his hand around her slender back, accented with a black tailored jacket. He whispered in her ear and she smiled up at him. She stood on tip toes in her Converse and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled back down at her.

I rolled my eyes and then caught sight of a customer coming over. "Hi." I got up with a smile automatically.

"Hi," the woman smiled back. I got her movies for her and then stayed busy as everyone in the store seemed to make their decision all at once. The store was empty 10 minutes later, except for Christine and Ben, who were talking quietly among the shelves.

Paul's office door opened and he cleared his throat grandly as he made a big show of putting on his jacket. I groaned inwardly… how I loathed this man. "Well I'm going to be heading out for the evening," he announced extravagantly.

"Okay." I nodded in reply.

"I can't keep Laura and the kids waiting," he tried to smile but it came out like a smirk.

"I understand." I lied. Just get out already.

"Make sure to watch the video cameras," he said loudly. He has this weird paranoid thing that people are actually going to steal the cases of movies (if people actually do that, they're really pathetic).

"I will." I replied.

"And don't forget to lock up," he pointed at me.

When did I not? "Of course." I nodded diligently.

"See you Thursday," he said gruffly and then left the store.

I breathed a sigh of relief and then heard quiet laughter in the stacks. Ben poked his head around. "That guy's a dick," he told me.

"Yeah he is." I agreed with a half smirk. He disappeared again and I went back to my homework until they came up to the counter. "All set?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied, wrapping his arm around her. He really didn't look like he was trying to rub it in my face… maybe he really did care for her. I rang him up. Maybe he had realized the error in his ways and had apologized to Christine.

But from what I knew of Ben, that didn't sound like him. "$3.00." I said and then went back into the stacks to find their movie. Ben isn't an overly apologetic person. But people make mistakes.

I shook myself mentally. Stop it, Erik. Just let them be.

I grabbed their movie and looked at Christine as I walked back out of the stacks. She looked away, looking annoyed.

I set the movie down and then droned, "The movie's due in three days," as I tore off his copy of the receipt and folded it up. "Have a nice day." I advised then forced a smile.

"Thanks." Ben replied, taking Christine's hand, and turning to the door.

Christine looked at me as he opened the door. Our eyes locked for a long moment. Her sharp green eyes bore into mine.

You deserve so much better then the way he treats you.

And then she was gone.

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 84, December 2017

On Christmas Eve, Mum and I attended the Carols by Twilight - Christmas Eve event held at Max Pawsey Reserve near Fountain Gate. It’s my second time going to a local Carols event, my first being over 6 years ago. As always, the event is run and organised by Casey City Church with many guest speakers and singers performing on stage including Andrew De Silva, He Planned Us and Gary Pinto. Of course, these Carols have a very Christian in orientation and whilst I don’t believe in God per se, it’s highly irrelevant. For me, it’s about being involved with the City of Casey community and celebrating the true meaning of Christmas...love, joy, peace, family, friends and being grateful for what you have in life.

We didn’t end up staying long as the weather decided to turn cold with a bitter, icy wind blowing across the reserve but it was still nice that we made the effort to listen to a few of the carols. After grabbing some coffees at Maccas, we decided to finally check out some Christmas lights. I was determined to visit the hugely popular display down at Hugo Court in Narre Warren to see what all the fuss was about. Getting down there early and finding a side street or court to park in is key because the traffic banks up very quickly.

We started by walking down Song Street with one house featuring two snow machines, creating lots of white foamy suds. It looked really cool. Making our way down to Hugo Court, there was literally people from the local CFA directing the crowd with glowing red wands. The moment we set foot into the court, it was bedlam. A cascade of brightly lit LED lights, inflatable Santas, Penguins, Snowmen, Reindeer, flashing signs, a radio station playing Christmas songs. But instead of being overwhelmed, I found it to be a truly magical experience. I had a ball taking photos and letting the atmosphere sink in.

The only downside was getting out of the area. A few drivers were getting impatient and rowdy. There was huge potential for road rage but thankfully Mum and I dodged a bullet. You just have to be really patient and be prepared that it can take up to 20 minutes to get yourself back onto Narre Warren-Cranbourne Road. But besides that, it was definitely worth going to. Hopefully I don’t leave it this late next year!

On Christmas Day, My parents and I had a busy morning ahead getting all the food prepared and cooked as well as decorating the outside patio area. It didn’t take long for me to start feeling exhausted but it came together really well. It’s a big area of strength for me, the creative side. We always go all out when it comes to Christmas and it’s easily my favourite part of the day.

In the afternoon, we had relatives over from my step-dad’s side of the family. We had a lovely roast for lunch which included chicken, ham, pork, potatoes, pumpkin, beans, peas and carrots. The conversations at the table were difficult for me to join in with as usual and when the topic turned to sexual predators and pedophiles, I was ready to exit stage left. I just feel so disturbed and uncomfortable hearing that stuff and that’s only so much I can handle before I have to leave.

In the late afternoon, we opened up our Christmas presents under the tree. I always find this experience to be both overwhelming and awkward. At least now that I’ve got an official diagnosis, it would explain why I’m not as “expressive” as I should be. From the outside looking in, most people would think I’m ungrateful due to my lack of excitement but it’s far from the case. It’s more I have no idea what to say besides thank you. I couldn’t be more grateful, I just don’t often show it with my non-verbal cues and body language (Autism 101).

In the evening, we had my Aunt, Uncle and Cousins come over for dinner. I decided to have a Nanna nap before they arrived as I was feeling buggered as. The food we served up was similar to our lunch with a selection of chicken, pork and ham plus coleslaw, potatoes and pasta salad. We engaged in the usual tradition of pulling Christmas crackers, wearing paper hats and reading the lame jokes inside of them.

It’s true that I’m still very reserved, socially awkward and sensitive even around my family but it’s something that I’m continuing to work on embracing and accepting. It was a really long day for me overall but the upside is that we didn’t have to travel anywhere today and the weather was lovely throughout the day.

On Boxing Day aka “Recovery Day”, we spent the morning sitting around the dining table eating bacon and eggs for breakfast, talking about how dodgy our current government are and how the oil companies are ripping us off when it comes to the price of petrol. I honestly felt like a zombie crawling out of bed after all the food and alcohol I consumed yesterday. Thankfully, no hangover though! Then comes to fun part of cleaning everything up and packing away all the decorations. One step at a time though.

I spent most of the afternoon just resting up and trying to catch up on some sleep. The last thing I wanted to do was rush out to the Boxing Day sales. Seriously FUCK THAT! I’d rather shop online to be honest. In fact, I decided to buy a few Christmas sweaters from eBay ready for next Christmas. My cat Lotus decided to join me for a nap for the first time ever on my bed. It’s good to see that she’s finally warmed up to my bedroom and my bed.

On Wednesday morning, Mum and I both had well overdue full body Chinese massages at Best Body Massage in Eden Rise, Berwick. Best Body is basically just Top 1 Therapy trading under a different business name but offering the same deals. I opted for a deep tissue massage with hot stones which only cost me $45 for a whole hour. The guy did a very thorough job getting all of those knots undone and relieving a lot of tension through my back, shoulders, neck and spine. Pretty much over a month’s worth of stress, anxiety and muscle soreness.

This place is still unfortunately plagued with the same issues as Top 1 Therapy. Don’t expect to get much conversation from your massage therapist unless you’re fluent in Mandarin. Also, they could really benefit from having a staff member act as a permanent receptionist and door greeter as the guy doing my massage had to constantly rush off to attend to phone calls and customers dropping in. Basically, they’re lacking in the customer service department but considering I’m only paying $45 instead of $100 and the therapists are highly skilled in what they do, I can let the cons slide. http://edenrisevillage.com.au/store...

On Thursday morning, Mum and I visited the Cranbourne Hyundai Used Car Dealership to begin the search for my fourth car. We were both wearing our invisible “JUST LOOKING” t-shirts as I’m still extremely guarded and weary when it comes to car salesmen. Thankfully the guy who looked after us, Rod, was quite easy going and pleasant to deal with. He didn’t pressure us to make a sale at all, nor was he holding “grand sale” balloons like Pennywise The Dancing Clown (A sure bet to run in the opposite direction!).

I brought along my list of potential cars that I wanted to have a look at including a 2014 Hyundai i30 Active GD2, a 2013 Kia Cerato S TD and a 2011 Ford Fiesta Zetec WS. I was leaning the hardest towards the i30 and even briefly sat in the car to check out some of the features. I wrote down some “must haves” including a CD player, keyless entry, rego, 3 year warranty, low kilometers under 100k and priced under $15,000. It pretty much ticked all those boxes but I refused to sign any paperwork yet. I’d rather have a few models to consider and make sure I’m 100% happy with the next car I purchase. http://www.cranbournehyundai.com.au/...

On Thursday night, I attended my Body Balance class with Rowena at YMCA Casey RACE. It’s been a couple of weeks since I last went to a group fitness class so evidently I was feeling pretty out of practice tonight but it didn’t take long to pick things up. Rowena had a strong Irish accent and was very bubbly throughout the class.

We did our usual sequence of exercises during the class including: Tai-Chi Warmup (Swan Dive, Overhead arm circles), Sun Salutations (Forward Fold, Downward Facing Dog, Plank, Baby Cobra), Standing Strength & Balances (Warrior 2, Sun Warrior, Side Angle Pose, Triangle Pose, Half Moon Pose), Pilates (Bicycle Crunches, Firefly, Arm and Leg balances, Knee to Nose), Twists & Hamstring Stretches (Butterfly Forward Fold, Serpentine Twist with Leg Extension) and Relaxation. https://www.lesmills.com/workouts/f...

On Friday morning, Mum and I returned to the Cranbourne Hyundai Used Car Dealership for a second look. Thankfully I didn’t have to deal with any Max Kirwin type used car salesman (Good one Max? More like get the fuck away from me Max!) as Rod was there again. As I was walking through the middle of the yard, one of the cars immediately caught my attention. It was a dark blue coloured 2015 Hyundai Accent sedan. On closer inspection, it pretty much ticked all the boxes on my wishlist and inside I knew that this was “the one”.

Rod sat myself and Mum down inside his office. The space was clinical white and undecorated aside from the Hyundai logo and a few certificates on the wall. The anxiety levels were building rapidly inside of me but I knew that if I didn’t put the car on hold today, I would probably regret it. Still I find the whole process of signing contracts and paperwork to be extremely daunting. After sorting out some technical issues, we managed to get the ball rolling and Rod even put a personalised “SOLD” sign inside the car for me. I’ll be finalising the transaction and picking it up next week if all goes well.

On Friday night, I went to an RPM Express class with Laura at YMCA Casey RACE in Cranbourne East. Being the Christmas holidays and also the fact that it was wet and humid outside, there was only 3 people in tonight’s class but it was no surprise. I was still determined to get a really good workout done and I decided to turn up the resistance quite a few times up to 40-50%. The mountain climbing sections were easily the hardest for me but I was burning heaps through my knees, glutes and thighs.

I was also more focused on the wattage display and tried hard to get it over 170-200W. I was a good feeling pushing myself as hard as I could on the bike and being an express class, it was much shorter than usual. https://www.lesmills.com/workouts/f...

2017 has been a year of major growth for me. From having the strength and courage to turn down and walk away from people and situations that no longer serve me well to having emotional breakdowns in front of my former personal trainer to getting counselling and a formal diagnosis for mild Autism. I've done a lot of personal development, worked on improving my mental health issues and put myself out of my comfort zone (Do It In A Dress charity event, work Christmas function, Yoga Retreat in Moggs Creek).

It's been a huge year for fitness, trying out new things (Strength & Conditioning, Bootcamp, CrossFit, Water Workout, Swimming, Spa and Sauna) and pushing myself really hard to achieve results. There's been plenty of bumps in the road along the way from changing gyms to yoga studios closing down but none of these things have hindered me.

It's been a really tough year financially for me but I've always tried to persevere and get myself through it. I didn't attend as many local gigs as I would have liked to this year but many hurdles got in the way. Hopefully my attendance will pick up in 2018 as I find a better way to balance my life. However, I feel like my contribution was still significant in terms of writing reviews, band promotion, buying merch and sharing band related posts.

Thank you to all of my family and friends for sticking by me and supporting me this year.

MY GOALS FOR 2018 SO FAR                                                                            1. Buying myself a new car, probably an ex-demo 2016 Hyundai i30 or similar at Cranbourne Hyundai. 

 2. Joining an art/painting/life drawing class in Berwick. 

 3. Travelling to places including Redwood Forest in East Warburton and Launceston, Tasmania. 

 4. Continuing to write blogs, reviews, interviews with Behind The Scene and supporting the local music scene. Increasing my attendance at local gigs. 

5. Regular yoga classes with Keren Gurrieri at Body Yoga. 

6. PT sessions/Group sessions at The Yard Strength & Fitness with Mandi Herauville and Erynne McCrorey. 

 7. Burning body fat and gaining lean muscle around the arms, legs, thighs, stomach, back, hips, glutes etc. Losing another 5-10kg. 

8. Joining a support group to help with my mental health issues and emotional wellbeing e.g. GROW group, The Anxiety Disorders Association of Victoria (ADAVIC). 

9. Joining another cooking class at Balla Balla Community Centre. 

10. Continuing to work on improving my self-confidence, self-care and personal development to become a better person. 

11. Continuing to attend Group Fitness classes and seminars at YMCA Casey ARC and YMCA Casey RACE. Trying new classes including Aqua Cycle, Aqua Yoga, Virtual fitness classes.   

 12. Volunteering at an Animal Shelter, caring for domestic pets.