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daryldaddydixon · 4 years

Text

Second Father

Hi guys 😄 I’m back again with another 3am crack fic!

Summary: Daryl and the reader begin to develop a father/daughter relationship and after giving Daryl a scare she surprises him even more.

Warnings: Daryl x Daughter/Teen!reader, gunshot wound, twd type violence, cuteness and fluff

*not my gif*

You were only thirteen when the apocalypse began. You and your parents had been lucky enough to stumble upon a camp of survivors in an abandoned quarry after escaping the city. At first, the group of survivors that had taken you in were wary of your family and you all understood why, but they soon warmed up to you. One member of the group was especially fond of you. Daryl Dixon. Initially, he wanted nothing to do with you, thinking you were just some helpless, scared kid. You finally started to grow on the hot-head after asking him to teach you how to hunt. You saw how he provided for the camp and you wanted to learn so you could help provide for the camp too. He rudely declined your first few requests but you hit him back with your own sarcasm and didn’t let his rudeness get to you. You persisted in asking him to teach you until he finally caved. With the consent of your parents, he promised you one hour, no more and you happily accepted.

Within that one hour you shocked him with how easily you picked up tracking skills. You even helped him track a deer and then caught your own squirrel with Daryl’s crossbow. Of course he helped you hold it up to aim since it was heavy but you still took all the credit and he gladly let you. After that day you became Daryl’s protégée and he started taking you out on lessons regularly. Your parents were very fond of the archer and grew to trust him with their only daughter’s life. At first Merle thought Daryl was stupid for getting attached to some random kid but eventually you even grew on the older Dixon. Eventually you had earned the nickname Mini Dixon, having managed to gain the affection of both brothers. Though you mainly stuck by Daryl’s side as Merle was still a bigger ass than Daryl ever was. Between your parents and the Daryl you managed to find happiness even in the middle of the end of the world.

When the new guy, Rick, arrived and you found out Merle was left behind in the city you were sad. Despite you always being closer to Daryl and Merle being an ass you knew that Merle had cared for you to some capacity and you didn’t wish for him to die. You went to find Daryl to see if he was okay but when you found him he had yelled at you for the first time since before he took you on your first hunting lesson. Being the little fire cracker you were, you yelled back before walking off so you could both cool down. Daryl had felt terrible about yelling at you and went to apologize before going back to Atlanta to look for Merle. You wanted to go with him and the other guys but he quickly shut that idea down and instead made you promise to keep your parents and the camp safe. You pinky promised him. And when the walkers invaded the camp you fought with everything you had to keep that promise but you couldn’t. You couldn’t protect your parents, let alone the rest of camp.

Once Daryl and rest of the group returned from Atlanta he immediately ran to find you, fighting his way through walkers. When he finally found you his heart broke for you. He had found you crying over the corpses that were your parents. The archer couldn’t find any words so he just knelt down and hugged you while you cried. Ever since that night Daryl had unofficially taken over the role of your guardian.

Without Merle, you were the one person Daryl cared about more than anything. He’d never admit it but over time he started to view you as his own daughter.

Daryl was beyond relieved when they group found the prison. He was glad that you would have a safe place to live and grow up in. During your time at the prison you and Daryl grew closer than ever. He showed you new tracking and hunting techniques and even managed to find you your own crossbow while he was out on a run. Now that you were slightly older and bigger you were able to hold it up on your own. He even taught you how to make you own arrows like he did.

Since you had your own crossbow and were older you finally convinced Daryl to take you on a run.

That’s where you were now, rummaging through an abandoned drug store. After deeming the store clear you, Daryl and Glenn agreed to split up to cover more ground.

“Be careful, kid. Weapon up, got it?” Daryl warned.

“Got it,” you said and Daryl smiled at you before going down his aisle.

Unfortunately, the store wasn’t completely cleared. When you crossed over into your next aisle you came face to face with a burly man who had his gun drawn. Before you could act he pulled the trigger.

Daryl heard the gunshot from a few aisles down and sprinted towards the source of the shot.

“Y/N!” He called out.

When he found your body unconscious on the ground the man who shot you didn’t have to time to finish reloading his gun before Daryl tackled him.

“What did you do!” He screamed, punching the man before grabbing his knife and the stabbing it through the shooter’s face.

“No, no, no, no,” he mumbled crawling over to your body, “Glenn!” He screamed.

“Daryl? Y/N,” Glenn called, rounding the corner to find Daryl frantically tying his belt around your torso to stop the bleeding.

“Get the car! Now!” Daryl said. He didn’t bother looking up as Glenn made a run for the car. He focused on tying his belt around you as tight as he could before lifting you up and running to the car.

“Drive! Now!” Daryl called from the backseat. “You’re gonna be okay. Ya hear kid? You’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be okay,” he kept repeating this until you reached the gates of the prison where you were taken by Hershel and Maggie. Daryl wanted to follow you and sit while they worked on you in your cell but Rick held him back. “Give them room to help her,” Rick had said. Now Daryl was just pacing back and forth in the hall right out side your cell. Rick and Carol both tried to get the archer to sit down and rest or eat but he refused.

Daryl couldn’t focus on anything but his thoughts. You had to be okay. You had to, Daryl couldn’t bear to loose you. Over the past year you had become the daughter Daryl never got to have and you couldn’t leave him now. Not like this. You couldn’t die like this you were only a kid.

It was nearly sunset by the time Hershel pulled back the curtain and walked out of your cell.

“Is she okay?” Daryl asked immediately, his voice slightly cracking.

“She’ll be okay,” Hershel nodded, “the bullet went clean through, it’ll be some time but eventually the Mini Dixon will be good as new,” Hershel smiled, “she’s still sleeping but you can see her now. She won’t be awake for a while.”

“Thank you,” Daryl gasped out as his system flooded with relief. Hershel nodded in response.

Daryl took a deep breath before entering your cell. Even though he had just heard that you would be okay the sight of you pale and unconscious broke his heart. He pulled a chair up next to your bed and took one of your hands in his.

“Hey, kid,” he whispered, “gave me a scare back there. It’s okay though, Hershel says ya gonna be fine. So I just need ya to rest up and then open up them pretty eyes. Okay, kid?” Daryl swallowed his tears as he watched you lay there, helpless.

Hours passed and different people came in to check on you but Daryl couldn’t keep track of who. He was too focused on you. After a while, your eyelids fluttered open and you woke up feeling severely disoriented.

“Y/N,” you heard someone call your name. The voice was echoey but familiar though you couldn’t quite place a face to the voice. That’s when you felt the weight in your hand and looked over the side of your bed though your vision was clouded with black blots. Bits and pieces of what happened slowly started to com back to you. The drug store, the man, the feeling of hitting the tiled floor when he pulled the trigger.

“Hey, kid. There’s them pretty eyes. You’re okay, ya need rest. Sleep, kid.” You heard the voice say. It sounded like a man.

“M’kay dad,” you slurred, “love you,” and you passed out again.

Daryl stared at you in shock as you fell back into a deep sleep. Sure, he had always thought of you as his daughter but hearing you call him “dad” made it so real. Letting a tear slip, he squeezed your hand and placed a kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t wake up again for a few hours and this time you remembered everything. Even calling Daryl “dad”. You mentally smacked yourself. Sure, you had thought of Daryl as a second father since your biological dad died but you knew he wasn’t one for emotions so you kept that to yourself.

Finally coming out of your thoughts you noticed the cell was empty and a sob escaped your mouth followed by a wince as you remembered your wound. Daryl was gone. Did you scare him away by calling him dad? What if he thought you were crazy?

In reality Daryl just had to use the bathroom and he was on his way back to your cell when he heard your sob. He ripped the curtain open and saw you awake and crying.

“Y/N,” he knelt down next to your bed, “what’s wrong, kid?” He gave you a moment to catch your breath before responding. “I thought you left me,” you said tearfully, breaking Daryl’s heart for the hundredth time in twenty four hours.

“Why would ya think that, kid?” Daryl was confused, he’d never abandon you and he thought you knew that. You hesitated before responding.

“Last night, I, uh, I called you dad. Thought I freaked you out and that you decided to leave me.” You admitted. Daryl was silent for a moment.

“I didn’t mind it,” he confessed. And it was true, he always saw you as his daughter and hearing you call him dad just felt right even if I was shocking.

“Really?” You questioned with wide eyes. He nodded at you. “So,” you hesitated, “would it be okay if I, uh, called you that from now on? I kinda of, um, seen you as a father since, uh ya know,” you trailed off. Daryl knew what you were referring to, the night your parents died.

“If you want ta,” he said, “I, um, I don’t mind it, kid.” You smiled at him.

“So then that makes you my Dad,” you smirked up at the man as he smiled down at you.

“Sure do, kid. Sure do. Now get some rest and heal up,” he patted your head and kissed your temple.

Looking at you smile at him before closing your eyes to sleep, Daryl silently promised to be the best father possible. He vowed to be nothing like his own father. You were his daughter, biological or not, and Daryl would protect you with everything he had.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #Daryl Dixon x teen!reader #Daryl Dixon x Daughter!reader #dad!daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl Dixon fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus

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deanstead · 4 years

Text

That’s What We’re Here For

Pairing: Will Halstead x HalsteadSister!Reader x Jay Halstead

Request by anon: Hello! Could you maybe write halstead!sister imagine? She is always helping others including her brothers but refuses to get help herself and she just hides that something is wrong. And it got to the point when it's hard to hide it so Jay and Will get really worried about her.

Warnings: non-con touching, harassment, angst, mild cursing

A/N: First Halstead sister fic, which was also a request! I tried to balance out enough of each brother, so I hope it came out well and that you like it! Thanks for making this request! As usual, would love to hear thoughts or feedback! I’ll continue to take Halstead Sister requests, so if you have anything in mind, feel free to drop me an ask! ^^

Part 2

---

Jay got up as you pushed the door to your apartment open.

“Hey, I thought you said…” he stopped midsentence as you looked up at him.

“Jay?” You asked, confusion lacing your voice as you wondered why your older brother was sitting in your apartment, before you remembered that you had actually agreed to meet him earlier. “Oh my god, I’m sorry Jay. I completely forgot.”

Jay furrowed his brow. “Y/N? Did something happen?”

You paused but shook your head. “No, I just… got caught up.”

You knew that Jay wasn’t buying your story but you pretended not to notice. “Jay, can we just get some food? Please?”

Jay sighed, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye before nodding. “Will’s buying.”

You broke into a smile. “Definitely in.”

---

You twirled your pen in your hand, nodding along as your colleague made her presentation, occasionally looking down at your notes. You looked back up at the presentation, and that’s when you felt it. Again. A hand on your knee.

You could feel your body freeze, and you could almost feel ice travelling up your veins. You swallowed.

It had started a few months ago. You still remembered the first time he had made a comment about the dress you were wearing and your figure. Then it had progressed to staring, a few brush ups against you that were just a little too close for comfort and once even a rubbing of your upper arms that sent the alarm bells ringing in your head.

You looked up at him, your team leader. He was looking away, as if he was totally invested in what your colleague was presenting, so much so that no one else could have guessed what was happening.

You shifted your knee uncomfortably, pulling your leg away and crossing them, angling your body away from him. Yet, at the same time, you knew it was futile. All these months, any form of rejection or attempt to avoid him just seemed to make him more determined to get what he wanted.

You hadn’t told anyone what was happening but you were strong and you weren’t about to let this asshole break you. That’s what your father had ingrained in you and that’s how your brothers were. You’d be damned if you broke to pieces.

So you kept on a brave front, avoided being alone with him as much as you could and never let on to anyone, including your brothers, that anything was amiss.

But if this kept up, you weren’t sure how long more you could go on.

You’d only admit this to yourself late at night in the darkness of your bedroom, huddled in the safety of your covers, but you were getting a little scared. He was getting bolder and he seemed to be trying his luck but stuck in a male-dominated environment, you weren’t sure about letting yourself become embroiled into a he said-she said situation.

As the meeting ended, you quickly stood up but not quickly enough apparently. “Y/N, can I see you in my office, please?”

You froze but you knew there was no way of getting out of this one so you simply nodded, moving out of the meeting room to put your notes on your desk before heading to his office.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on his office door and let yourself in, leaving the door open.

“Close the door, please.” He said, while smiling, his smile only managing to send shivers down your spine.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat but followed his instructions, finding no way to argue. “I just wanted to talk to you about your progress reports.” He continued, motioning for you to sit down.

“Is there a problem?” You asked.

He smiled back at you. “Not at all, I think they’re very well done.” He got up. “More well done than I expected.” He continued, pacing the office, his fingers trailing across your shoulders as he walked behind you. You took another breath as you felt his fingers touch the fabric of your dress.

You moved, turning to look at him square in the eye and he smiled back at you. “Just wanted to tell you to keep up the good work.”

“If you keep it up and make the right choices, you’ll do very well here.” He continued.

You swallowed down the bile that you could feel at the back of your throat. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to work.”

You stood up and made your way to his office door until you felt him grab your arm and push you slightly against the wall. You took a sharp intake of breath as he leaned in closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “Remember, the right choices.” He whispered before he stepped backwards, smirking.

You quickly left his office, making a beeline for the restroom. You barely made it in time to the toilet before you threw up.

---

“Hey.” Will called, jogging towards Jay.

Jay nodded, glancing back down at his watch. “I’m just stopping by. I have to get back to the district soon. Listen, about…”

Will didn’t need Jay to finish his sentence. “Y/N, right? Yeah, something’s definitely up.”

Jay nodded, “As long as we’re on the same page about this. You know her…”

Will shrugged, “The stubborn gene was passed on by Pops. She’ll never reach out first for help. Let’s wait and see before we you know... intervene.”

Jay glanced at his watch again. “I really got to go. I’ll see you tonight though?” Will nodded back as Jay got back into his truck.

Will sighed as he watched his younger brother drive off. Something was definitely up. Even when they had met for dinner a few nights ago, there had been something different, something off, something he or Jay couldn’t put their finger on, which worried him.

As he looked up to go back in, he noticed an all too familiar silhouette and took another glance.

“Y/N?” Will called out.

You were almost at the entrance and turned, giving your oldest brother a sheepish smile. “Hey Will.”

Will jogged towards you. “What are you doing here?” You could see that look on his face as he looked you over.

“I think it’s my IBS.” You grimaced as another cramp ripped through your abdomen. “Can you just…”

“Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Will muttered, pulling his arm around you gently as you sighed.

Thankfully, it was a slow day at Med and Will was able to get you into a treatment room before long. “Ethan, I need your help.” Will called.

“What do we have?” Ethan asked, jogging in.

Will glanced at you. “This is my sister, Y/N. She thinks her IBS is starting out again, can you just take a look?”

Ethan nodded at you. “Hi, I’m Dr Choi, let me take a look?”

You lay back as he pressed your abdomen gently and went through the necessary checks and questions before nodding. ��Let’s just get a scan in case. If nothing is out of the ordinary, we’ll get you setup with some of your normal medications and you can go.”

“Thanks Doc.” You replied, giving Will a ‘I told you so’ look before sitting up again.

As Ethan left the room, Will continued to stare at you, leaning on the wall and folding his arms. “You haven’t had an episode in a while. Are you stressed?”

You shrugged. “Not really.”

Will continued to stare at you. “You’re going to stare a hole through me.” You commented.

“You threw up.” Will pointed out.

“It’s just a small episode, Will. I’ll be fine.” You stressed.

“Dr Halstead, we need you in Treatment 5.” Maggie popped her head in and Will nodded.

He looked back at you. “I’ll be fine. Go save lives.” You told your brother.

Will gave you another glance before nodding, reaching forward to give you a gentle pat on your head.

You watched as your older brother ran across the emergency department and into the opposite treatment room.

---

You pushed open the door to your apartment, heading straight for the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before swallowing the medication that you had gotten from your earlier trip to Med. You had barely convinced Will to let you take a cab home by yourself.

In the safety of your apartment, finally alone, you sank to the floor, resting the back of your head against the counter, feeling the cold from the tiles seep into the back of your head. You closed your eyes as it hit you, everything from the past few months, always looking over your shoulder, constantly being on the lookout, everything, and you dissolved into tears, bringing your hands up to your face as you sobbed.

You didn’t even hear the sound of keys and the main door opening until Jay’s voice pierced through your consciousness.

“Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?”

But you couldn’t stop now, you just kept shaking your head as the sobs left your body.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay, come here.” Jay soothed, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head gently as you sobbed into his shoulder. “Okay, let it out. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Jay kept repeating.

You didn’t know Will had even entered the apartment until you felt a second pair of arms encircle your shaking form without saying anything.

You don’t know how long you were on the ground, your body tucked tightly between your two brothers, your favourite people in the world. When your sobs finally subsided, Jay was the first to move, pulling away gently to look at you.

Now you were embarrassed and you didn’t raise your head.

“Hey.” Jay called, forcing you to look up at him.

“Okay come on, let’s get you up first.” Will spoke, gently pulling you up, his eyes flicking to the medication on the counter.

You didn’t say anything but let them guide you to the couch. Jay plopped himself onto the floor, eyes still on you, while Will sat next to you, one hand on your back.

“What’s going on?” Will asked, his voice warm.

You remained silent. Jay put his hand on your knee and you jerked it away instinctively before you looked back at him. Jay froze before sitting up straighter. “Y/N, it’s us. Come on.” He urged, his green eyes holding a look of worry now.

“It’s nothing.” You mumbled.

Will sighed. “Okay, that’s enough. You don’t think we’ve noticed?”

You dragged your eyes back up to Will at the sound of his strained voice, expecting to see that look he had when he was pissed but instead you were met with his worried gaze. “Come on, let us in.” Will said.

Jay pushed himself further upright. “Hey.” You looked back at Jay now. “You remember, when I was having a tough time? Nightmares, PTSD, bad cases, all that crap? You barged in and wouldn’t let me reject your help.”

“Yeah, and when I catch a tough day at the hospital, or even when I was having a tough time with Natalie? You barely left my side.” Will chipped in.

Jay sighed, “For once in your life, it’s okay to get help. We’re your brothers, that’s what we’re here for.”

Your lower lip trembled as you looked down. “Pop was right. I’m useless.”

“Hey, Y/N Halstead, you look at me.” Jay snapped, and you raised your head again to look at him. “Pop had no idea what he was talking about. He used to go off on Will and me all the time too, remember?”

Your eyes flicked from Will to Jay. Will nodded, “Come on, he thought my medical degree was useless. Pop just… said things he didn’t mean, you know that.”

You remained silent.

“Now, spill.” Jay stressed as Will gave him a pointed look.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Will asked, gentler this time.

At your hesitation, Jay pushed himself off the ground and sat next to you on the couch. “It’s not weak to ask for help. Isn’t that what you told me? For three days straight, mind.”

“It’s my boss.” You finally whispered, your voice cutting through the silence as you found yourself spilling everything out. If there was anyone you could trust in this world, it was Will and Jay – your rocks. They might be idiots and sometimes overprotective but they were as solid as they came and you wouldn’t trade them for anyone in the world.

You didn’t go into the details but you could feel Jay tense up next to you. “Jay.” You put your hand on his arm. “Don’t.”

“I will kill him. I swear to God…” Jay growled but you just shook your head.

“Jay. No scene, okay?” You whispered.

Will put his arm around your shoulder. “You should have come to us. You always take on the weight of the world. My problems, Jay’s problems, but you won’t let us share yours. That’s a little unfair, don’t you think, sis?”

You didn’t respond but scooted closer, laying your head against Will’s shoulder and closing your eyes.

Jay moved closer to you, squashing you in between them. “We’ll work this out, okay? I’ll kill him with my bare hands if I have to.”

You just smiled and reached out for Jay’s hand. “Hey, no murder, Detective.”

Jay finally cracked a smile before leaning forward and kissing you on your temple. “I’m your big brother, I can do whatever I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks guys, seriously.” You whispered.

Jay flicked you on your head. “Hey!” You protested, sitting up now. “What was that for!”

“I told you. That’s what we’re here for. You’re our little sister, it’s our job to protect you.” Jay retorted.

Will let out a small laugh. “Look, let’s let Jay look into him alright? In the meantime, if he so much as glances your way you go right to HR, you hear me?”

You hesitated. “Whatever it is, he’s a dirtbag, and if there is fallout, we’ll deal with it. But no more running and no more hiding.” Will continued.

“Fine.” You breathed.

“And I’m taking you to your office tomorrow.” Jay said.

You raised an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Never been more serious in my life.” Jay looked back at you. “Look, I promise not to freak out on him, just let me walk you in to your desk so he knows your brother is a detective.”

You looked at Will for help but Will just shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I might break his hands off if I see him.”

You smiled. “Dorks.”

But you knew that now, even if the whole world came at you, everything would be alright. You finally felt like yourself for the first time in months.

---

Part 2

#Halstead!Reader #Halstead!Sister #jay halstead x reader #will halstead x reader #jay halstead #will halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #will halstead imagine #will halstead imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago med #chicago med x reader #jay halstead oneshot #will halstead oneshot #resanoona request #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine

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rosevanhelsing · 3 years

Text

Wendigo

Chapter. 22

Vic arrived at Christmasland in no time, got off the motorcycle and hid, she wanted to go as unnoticed as possible until she reached what looked like the center of the park. She prayed to meet Charlie directly, or at least Millie… she even preferred to meet the car rather than any of the other children.

While Charlie was in her office, sitting in his chair and pensive as he watched the snow fall. He refused to believe that Vic hated him. No, he was sure that she did not hate him and she was willing to collaborate with him, to establish a bond with him ... he had perceived it in her eyes before saying goodbye to her. If she hated him and she wanted to see him dead, she would have left him to his fate, she would have let the Wendigo run over him with the truck, she would not have helped him again ...

Millie, who was reading the book Vic had given her, looked up and said enthusiastically:

- ¡Dad! ¡Vic Mc Queen is back!

And she ran away.

Charlie felt as if he had been slammed into the head with the autopsy hammer he used to use and got to his feet. He put on a robe over it as he was wearing only pajamas and peeked outside in case he saw her

Near the Russian Sled, the Christmasland roller coaster, Vic was cornered by several children, these were armed with knives and other sharp instruments.

- Look, she's the witch who wanted to destroy Christmasland!

- To her! Scissors for the drifter!

-I want her eyes!

-I want her nose ...

- Stop! - said a voice- It is Father who must punish her!

Millie stepped between Vic and the other children and hissed her teeth at them. The other children backed away, Millie roughly grabbing Vic by her arm and dragging her away.

- Come on, witch. You must be punished

Vic watched as Millie was dragging her from her but grabbing her by her clothes and he hadn't touched her skin, nor had she spoken a word from her since she had dragged her away. Millie watched and paused for a moment.

- I'm sorry I called you a witch, but I had to hide a bit but why have you come Victoria McQueen? And don't lie to me

- Easy, I have not come to destroy Christmasland or to harm your father. I just have to talk to him about how to take down a bad man.

- That bad man who almost ran over father?

- Yes, but how…

-Father explains everything to me now ...

Vic nodded but said nothing, Millie led her to Charlie's office and said pushing her into it:

- I'll be watching you. Don't do anything weird.

Vic knew that even though Millie hadn't attacked her and saved her from the other kids, she was still a little suspicious of her. She couldn't blame her, after all, she herself had come close to destroying Christmasland and her father.

The office was dark, but Vic knew Charlie was there, she could sense him, despite the silence.

- Come out of the shadows, Charlie, I know you're there.

Charlie grabbed her from behind and whispered into her ear:

- Well, well ... so you have dared to come to see me yourself ...

Vic put his hands on Charlie's arm to get him off her, it was one thing to have to ask him for help and collaborate with him, even admit that she had saved his life twice ... but she was not going to indulge him anything else.

- Charlie ... let go of me now!

Charlie released her and turned on the lights, there was also the fireplace light on. Vic looked at him, he was dressed in pajamas and a robe and he was looking at her mockingly.

- You weren't expecting me ... Vic mused

- No ... I honestly did not expect you to have the courage to come to Christmasland to find me. What happened? Did the Wendigo attack you?

-Almost right… Take a look at this, she said giving him a photocopy of the note the Wendigo had sent her.

Charlie took the note and read it

- However, you've already asked that cop for help, right?

- Just because Lou insisted. But I really don't trust them to stop it and you know why. Maggie knew it and she was never wrong. I have a plan, an alternative plan...

Vic told Charlie about her plan.

- So if the police fail, what do you think will fail, is that when you and I will take care of him?

- Yes. Remember that you must be in Boston for Halloween, at noon, at the latest. Me and Lou will drop Wayne off at Haverhill with my mother and then go to the Boston Hotel to change clothes.

- Change your clothes? Why?

- Because it's Halloween. I know that for you there is only Christmas, but not for the rest of the world. In addition to that party we have to go disguised as if we were in the 30s, in a gangster plan, femme fatale etc ...

Charlie rolled his eyes but said:

-I'll be there.

- Okay, we'll meet at the Hilton hotel to finalize the strategy. Would you mind taking us from there to where the party is held if necessary?

- In the Wraith? No problem, dear.

Vic nodded and said:

- Agree. See you on Halloween. But before I go I want to ask you a favor, a very big one. And I want this to stay between us

Charlie raised his eyebrow without showing any more expression, although inside he was overflowing with happiness as he interpreted that as a gesture of maximum confidence from Vic with him and said:

- What is it about?

- If the Wendigo kills me and Lou, I want you to do whatever it takes to protect Wayne. I want you to promise me for what you want the most ...

Charlie grabbed Vic's hands, theatrically knelt before her and putting his hand on his heart, he said:

- I swear by Christmasland that Wayne will not be harmed, I will protect him with my life. And so you can see that I trust you, I'm going to ask you the same favor- Charlie approached Vic's ear and whispered some coordinates- If I fall, I want you to free the children of Christmasland and my daughter. Especially my Millie.

- I promise Charlie.

Charlie stared at her, he had an almost irrepressible desire to kiss her and submit her right there, but it was not the time. Little by little she would be his, and that favor that she had asked him was a test. Proof that she already trusted him, enough to entrust him with what she loved most in this world, her son Wayne.

Charlie called the Wraith with his mind and said to Vic:

- Hide inside the car and she will take you to your motorcycle and the Shortcut.

- Thanks, Charlie. See ya. I'm sure we will defeat the Wendigo. Maggie's tiles were never wrong, most likely we don't have to take our oath.

Vic waited until she heard the car's engine, quickly opened the door of the shed and got into the car. Once there she lay down on the ground at the rear. N0s4a2, she turned off the interior lights and walked over to where Vic had left the motorbike. Once there, Vic looked out the window, checking that there were no children, and went out:

"Thanks, pretty," Vic said, closing the car door gently and running her hand over the long hood.

The Wraith's engine purred in response. The Rolls waved the lights as if to say goodbye and left. Vic got on her bike and crossed the Shortcut on her way home.

Meanwhile, Millie had entered her father's office.

-How was it, Father? Has Vic forgiven you? Have you made up?

- I think so, my sugar plum. Although I do not say so, I am convinced of it.

-How do you know? -She said hugging him

-Because she has sworn to me that if something happens to me, she will come looking for you and she will take you and the rest of the children out of Christmasland, although that will not happen ...

Charlie explained to Millie that he had planned, if circumstances allowed, to drag the Wendigo to Christmasland. Millie licked her lips and said:

- We will play with him scissors for the drifter ...

- I'm sure of it, my girl. And his head will decorate our new Christmas tree.

And telling himself, Charlie added:

- And Vic, in time she will become Mrs. Manx

#charlie manx #vic mcqueen

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years

Text

i’d be home with you // knj

summary - death is inevitable, it’s something you cannot escape. it only hurts more when it you die too young.

pairing - ghost!namjoon x female! reader

genre - angst, hurt/comfort; ghost au

word count - 7.7k

warnings - peer pressure, drugs, alcohol consumption, anxiety attack, major character deaths (duh), police, accidental deaths, crying, vomiting, drinking as a coping mechanism, communicating with the dead, psychics, moving on, acceptance of death

author’s note - this is for the final tile in my bingo ‘ghost au’. this really hurt me writing it and im sad, but i hope you guys like it

Namjoon had a lot of regrets, despite living a fairly cautious lifestyle. But since he died all he had left was regretting stuff he didn’t get to do sooner. Dying at 23 via accidental overdose? Hell of a way to die when he was someone who struggled to even tell a waiter that they gave him the wrong order, but that’s how he met his end.

There were so many things he didn’t get to experience: getting his Masters, graduating college, finding the love of his life, having children with said love of his life, growing old, retiring, spending time with grandkids if he had any. But all of that was cut short by just one single party and one single decision.

His brother, Seokjin, dragged him along to one of his dumb frat parties. All Namjoon wanted to do that evening was just study for his anthropology final that was coming up the following weekend but in his brother’s terms he needed to quote-unquote “Take a chill pill”. He dragged him over to some random townhouse a couple miles away from the university, handed him a cup of alcohol and abandoned him.

Namjoon didn’t drink, just didn’t think it was all that appealing to him. He sat silently in the corner of the room, keeping himself flush to the wall. He pretended to sip the plastic cup that was in his hand, trying not to draw any attention to himself whatsoever. It wasn’t until he was approached by a young brown haired man that his fate was sealed.

“‘Sup man, you look like you need a bit of fun.” The man said, a small smirk on his lips as he raised a small baggie of white pills.

“I- uh, I’m good. Thanks.” Namjoon quickly panicked, turning him down and quickly started looking around for his brother. This wasn’t his scene. He just wanted to go home now.

“Nah, come on man! You look like you need a bit of destressing, just take a couple. On the house.” He watched in abject horror as the guy opened the maggie and poured some into his hand. He took Namjoon’s free hand and put the pills in his palm. “Go on! Feels great.” He winked at him as he leaned against a wall, waiting for him to take the drugs.

Despite only the stranger’s gaze on him, he felt like everyone at the party was staring at him. Waiting for him to take the pills. His heart was pounding, he should give them back and just walk home. With or without Seokjin. Instead he found himself slowly lifting the pills to his mouth, throwing them in and taking a swig of the cup in his hand to wash it down. The alcohol was bitter on his tongue and they clumped together as they went down his esophagus.

“Yeaah man!” With a heart shaped smile, the man slapped him on the shoulder, “Enjoy it man. See me if you need anymore later.” And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Namjoon just stood there, head pounding as the lights bleared his vision and he swear he could feel the floors vibrate beneath his feet with the base of the stereo. Despite him not even moving, he felt like he was spinning and hanging upside down. Was it getting hot in here? Why did his limbs feel cold? He pushed himself from the wall, pushing his way through the sea of people between him and the way out.

“Heyyy!! Joonie! Get over here!” The voice of his brother called out to him, he turned to see the man himself walk over to him and pull him out of the crowd. “I see you were gettin’ jiggy, eh? Finally letting loose?”

“Jin, I-I don’t feel so good. I need-”

“Oh quit it Namjoon!” Seokjin scoffed at him. “Just take another drink and chillax!” He took the cup in his hand and brought it to Namjoon’s lips, forcing him to gulp down more of the burning liquid.

With that, his brother walked away. He felt himself get sucked back into the crowd of dancers, pushing and pulling him in all directions. His heartbeat was in his head, the base of the music was in his stomach. His chest was tight and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he knew at this point was the people he was surrounded by. Dancing, screaming, singing. It was loud and hot and nauseating. Yet despite the heat of the bodies around him, he felt cold. All he knew was what was in that crowd of people: sweat, heat, and constant movement.

After that the world just seemed to turn black.

He woke up the next early morning to sirens; red and blue lights flashing outside the windows. That should’ve been his first clue. His second clue should’ve been the lack of a hangover he should be having. Namjoon walked down the hallway he was in and into the living room where a couple he didn’t know were talking to police, alongside a few other party goers were all sitting on the couch.

“H-hey what’s going on?” He asked as he approached them, but he was ignored. “Um, hello?” He waved his hand, trying to catch their attention. He felt his chest tighten, what was going on? Why were they ignoring him? When he heard an officer call out for a Mr. Kim, he almost cried from relief, “That’s me!”

But the officer walked right past him and out onto the porch, where a young man sat with a blanket laid over his shoulders. “Mr. Kim, I’m sorry to bug you at this time but we need a statement.” The man said to him. The young man nodded and stood up to face the officer. To Namjoon’s horror it was Seokjin, his eyes red and puffy. He’d never seen his brother look so distraught. “Are you alright for me to ask you a few questions?”

“Yeah,” his voice croaked out.

“Did Namjoon, or anyone else in your family, have a history of drug abuse?” The question threw him for a loop.

“No!” He yelled at the officer. “I have never-”

“No, he-” Jin cut him off with a sniffle. “He’s never used drugs before, I dragged him out to this party. And-and it’s my fault he’s dead.”

Namjoon’s entire world seemed to collapse in on itself. “What?! I’m not dead! I’m right here! Seokjin! Seokjin, look at me!” He cried out as he tried to push past the threshold of the door but some invisible force kept him in. “Seokjinnie, please! Hyung!” He screamed as he watched the officer place a hand on his shoulder as his older brother sobbed.

He looked ahead of them and saw a white van labeled ‘CORNOR’ just shut its doors, only giving him a split second to see the tell-tale black body bag inside before the other door shut.

At that moment, another officer walked out the front door. Walking right through him. He watched as the man visibly shuddered before talking to the officer about giving Seokjin more time before asking questions. The air left his lungs, not that he had any in there to begin with. He clutched his chest and ran. He ran through the walls of the town house towards the back door, only for the same thing to happen at the front door happen again. An invisible barrier holding him in.

He needed to be in an enclosed space. Glancing around, he saw an open closet tucked beneath the small staircase to the master bedroom. Namjoon burst into another run and slammed the door of the closet shut and let out an ungodly scream; crying out for his mother, brother, someone, anyone to hear him and tell him it was going to be okay. The only person came was an officer to investigate the slam but no one else came. No one saw him.

He died August 28th, 1994. He was 23 years old. Cause of death was drug induced heart attack. The pills the stranger gave him were part of a bad batch or laced with something else, at least that’s what the owner’s of the house mentioned when he listened in on their conversations. At first he felt bad about it, but he couldn’t leave the townhouse so what else could he do? Watch paint dry?

After a while the frat guys who lived in the house moved out, not feeling comfortable with knowing that a guy died in their hallway on their watch. Namjoon didn’t hold any ill will towards them. It wasn’t their fault. Hell, he was such a forgiving person, he wasn’t even that mad at the guy who gave him the drugs. So he didn’t know exactly why he was stuck here, in a small townhouse. But there he was. And he tried his best to deal with it.

While it certainly did suck the first few months of just trying to deal with people walking through him and not being able to be heard; being dead wasn’t so bad when Namjoon thought about it. It did get a bit lonely sometimes, not being able to talk to anyone outside of his own half conversations with the tenants that moved into the townhouse.

Sometimes the tenants of the house figured out that the place was haunted; sometimes they’d bring in psychics, who were definitely fake as no matter how much he tried to tell them he was a nice ghost they always spouted some bullshit of a vengeful spirit. Sometimes they’d bring in their own ghost equipment and start talking, but soon as he got a word out they freaked and left. The place was constantly on and off the market until you.

You were a plucky university student who finally found a place that had low enough rent and was close enough to your school that you didn’t need a roommate. Despite Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s begging, you wanted a place to yourself and finding a 2 bedroom townhouse with rent that cheap? It was a steal! With the help of your two friends plus your older brother Yoongi, you were able to get all your stuff moved in within the day!

You didn’t understand why the place never had steady tenants; sure there was a history of noises and cold spots, but it was an old house built in the 70s. Of course it’s gonna have some old stuff that needs fixing.

Namjoon watched in silence as the four of you went in and out of the house. A few times you did walk near him and visibly shiver, your friends even mentioned the cold spots to you, but you waved it off as if it was nothing. “Just the heater, I’ll talk to the landlord. See if he can do anything about it.” Now he wasn’t an engineer or anything, but he’s seen the heater and there’s nothing wrong with it, it was definitely him you were feeling. But he just had hopes that whoever the landlord hired would say the same to you.

He was quickly able to get a quick gage on your friends; the brown haired one being Jungkook, he could easily tell he was the youngest of the group by how the rest of you babied him. The blue haired one was Taehyung, but there was something about him that was familiar almost. He reminded him of his brother, how handsome he was. Lastly the dark haired man was Yoongi, at first he wasn’t sure about your relationship to him, seeing how he was the oldest out of all of you, but he quickly came to realize you were siblings by the way you teased each other. He found a lot of joy watching the four of you bicker and talk as you all set up certain aspects of your new place.

“Are you sure you don’t want a roommate?” Jungkook whined as he brought in the last of the boxes. “I swear, I’ll do all the laundry and chores just pleaaasee?”

“Sorry, Jungkookie.” You laughed at your friend. “But the lease is signed and I got everything I want planned out already. You can go room with Taehyung!”

“But he gets paint all over my shit though!” He groaned as he set the last box down on the counter.

“Hey, if she says she’s okay for her own place I believe her.” Yoongi said as he left your room. “Your bed is all set up by the way.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Thank you, Yoongle.” You smile at your older brother, happy he was able to get your bed together before it was too late in the day. “Now I just gotta find my sheets and I’ll be able to sleep in bed.” You chuckled.

“Which are right here,” You turn to see Taehyung holding a bag full of your blankets and pillows. “Want me to bring them over to your room?” He tossed his head in the direction of where you claimed your bedroom would be.

“Please and thank you!” You gave him a wide smile as he made his way down towards your room to drop them.

“You sure you don’t want me to spend the night tonight?” Yoongi asked, “First nights are scary, believe me.”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry!”

And you were. You thought you’d have a bit of difficulty adjusting to being alone, but for some reason you didn’t really feel alone? If that made any sense. You’d think after living with your brother the past few years you’d instantly notice being alone. Physically you knew you were but at the same time, deep down you knew you weren’t. Whatever this feeling was, you didn’t mind it. Hell, the weird feeling comforted you. Helped you prove to your brother that you didn’t need any extra help.

Namjoon was kinda baffled at how willfully ignorant you were. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve moved in and he notices you do tend to lose stuff and don’t really question it when he suddenly places it where you can easily find it again. He likes watching you get ready and organizing your place. (Of course, when he sees that you’re getting dressed or getting ready for bed he’ll give you your privacy.) Sometimes he’ll kinda give some ghosty help and straighten up some of the crooked frames you hung up. Being the friendly ghost roommate he is.

You called the landlord not too long ago and he said that a lot of the past tenants had complained about it not working or it always being cold in the house so he told you he was just going to replace it. You were excited! Brand new heater! And with the nights starting to get colder, you’re really going to need it.

It was on a Tuesday when the landlord came to change the heater, which was strange. Namjoon watched as you let the landlord in to work as you left for your early morning class, now the few times he’s seen the landlord and stuff being fixed is few. Normally he’ll have a professional come over and work on it, that’s what happened a few years ago when he accidentally shoved a spoon down the kitchen drain and the tenant called his services.

He watched with curiosity as the landlord dragged in the brand new heater, box in all, as well as his tool box and got to work. Something in the back of Namjoon’s mind didn’t feel right, so he kept an eye on the man as he installed the heater himself. Again, he wasn’t an electrician and knew nothing of installing heaters, but he knew that he was doing it wrong. He was pushing and slamming against it, trying to get it to fit on the pipes. Namjoon anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, debating on trying to fuck with him and push the heater off. But before he could even do anything, you came home and the landlord dusted off his hands and closed the door to the heater.

You were so happy that it was finished, thanking the landlord profusely for getting you a new one and installing it. While it was gonna take a bit off of your deposit, and you were internally cringing at that, you knew it was a well needed thing to be done. Soon as he left, you turned on the heat, as it was a cool November day and your professor didn’t bother turning on the heat in her class at all. With the heat on, you grabbed some blankets and snuggled up to watch Netflix the rest of the day, not bothering to work on your essay that was due in a few days.

As the day slowly came to a close, you realized you were getting a small headache. You didn’t really think much of it, just popped an aleve and drank some water. Usual things that helped cure your headaches, but it didn’t seem to let up. You glanced at the time, it was about 7:30. “Might as well hit the hay early.” You yawned, stretching out and made your way to your room. You did stumble around a bit, damn did you not notice how tired you were? Not bothering to change out of your day clothes, you just crawled right into bed and fell asleep.

“Not good, this is very not good.” Namjoon was rightfully freaking out. The heater was not properly installed at all and as he couldn’t breathe, he knew that whatever was happening to you was not good. He scoured all over the house, looking for some sort of alarm he could set off, wake you up, get you out of the house. As it turns out, the fire alarm was busted. The landlord was too cheap to fix it and not bother telling you. He constantly went back and forth checking on your to make sure your chest was still rising and falling as he frantically tried to do anything to wake you up.

Nothing worked though. He hadn’t felt this frustrated since he first died and everyone was walking through him. He wanted to scream, but nothing worked. He couldn’t do much but watch you. Wait for you to wake up and realize something was wrong. Wait for you to die. Which ever happened first and he hoped it was the former. But no matter how much he hoped and prayed to whatever god there was out there, it was fruitless.

It was 1:36 am when you stopped breathing.

Namjoon lets out a choked out sob, he can’t believe it. He should’ve done something. He should’ve pushed the heater over while the landlord was still here. He should’ve done something to turn it off before you started suffering from the carbon monoxide that was pouring through your vents. He buried his head in his hands and he just cried. Cried for you, for your family. You had so much life ahead.

“Mmhmm, what’s going on?”

He stilled, he looked up and saw you on the floor, holding your head. He quickly glanced between you and your body and quickly jumped into action.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He got on his knees to help you to your feet, thankfully in your confusion you let him help you up and quickly escorted you away from your room. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react to the fact you had died, much less seeing your own dead body right in front of you. “Just follow me, you’re going to be okay.” He said as he brought you over to the couch and sat you down.

“Hmm, who are you? Where am I?” You were still very dazed, he wasn’t sure if that was just a side effect of the poisoning or just general confusion of death. Did different deaths affect ghosts differently? Or was it random to each person?

“My name is Namjoon, we’re in your house.” He answered as he knelt in front of you.

Your eyes slowly started focusing on him and when your vision cleared to see the stranger in your house, you rightfully screamed. “Who the fuck are you!? What are you doing in my house?!” You shouted scrambling to get away from him. “Get out before I call the police!!”

“Hey hey hey, wait!” He called out after you as you got to your feet and ran back to your room. “Don’t go in there! Wait! Y/N!”

Soon as you crossed the threshold of the room you screamed again. Because there you were, in bed. Not moving. Not breathing. You fell to your knees and screamed again; in horror, confusion, fear. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you just leaned into it, collapsing into the arms of a complete stranger.

Namjoon held you as you sobbed into him, fists tight around the shirt he died in. He tried his best to be a soothing presence for you, rubbing circles into your back and not letting you go until several hours had passed. A normal human being probably would’ve passed out from exhaustion by now, but you weren’t human anymore. You were a ghost.

By the time you had stopped crying the sun was starting to rise, you let Namjoon help you to your feet and back to the living room. You both sat down on the couch in silence, besides a couple of sniffles from you.

“Are. . are you the Grim Reaper?” You asked, your voice groggy from crying.

“Hm? Oh no, I uh, I’m a ghost. Like you actually.” He replied with a nervous chuckle. “I died here.”

“I figured,” you wiped your nose on the back of your hand. “Landlord said someone died back in ’94, I just thought it was some. . .some old guy. Old age. Didn’t think he’d be-you’d be close to my age.”

“How old are you?” He asked, trying to make light conversation and distract you.

“Uh, I turned 21 last month.” You gave him a tight smile. Then the two of you fell into silence.

“I’m 23, by the way.” God, it’s been so long since he’s had an actual conversation with someone that he completely forgot how to talk to people.

“But wouldn’t you be-”

“Nah I don’t really count the years afterward much. I don’t age and can’t leave the house, what’s the point in counting the years.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Can’t leave? What do you mean?” You looked at him, confused.

“Uh. . . you saw Beetlejuice right?” You nodded. “Kinda like that? Only instead of being teleported to some other sand dimension, you just get. . .blocked.”

“I guess there’s also no ‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased’ either.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, that would’ve been very helpful.” He gave you a small, dimpled smile. Then the silence fell over you again, the only noise was the shudder of the heater as it shut off, then there was complete silence.

“How long?” You keep your gaze focused on your lap, pulling on your fingers.

“Hmm?”

“How long. . .are we going to be here?” Your body was still in the other room, how long until someone notices you were missing school? How long would it take your brother to know that you weren’t contacting him? You could go days without talking with him. . .

“Here? I don’t know. . . as for someone to notice. . .that all depends on the people around you. I died when there was just a frat party, so it was noticed immediately. . .”

You furrowed your brows at that, it sounded familiar. . .why did that sound familiar? You knew for a fact you didn’t research the one death in this house, but at the same time you feel like you’ve been told a story like that before. . .

It was Jungkook who found you a day and a half later.

“Y/N? Hello?” He was banging on the door, looking in between the windows. Namjoon held you close as you started to cry, you didn’t want Jungkook to see this. He shouldn’t have to see this. He must’ve found the hide-a-key because moments later he was in, you clung tighter onto Namjoon as your best friend of 10 years looked past you.

“Y/N?” He called out as he walked in, you turned your head into Namjoon’s chest as your friend made his way towards your room. You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard him talk. “Hey you okay? Haven’t seen you at school. . . Y/N? Y/N? Hey wake up-” He must’ve realized because next thing you know he’s running out of the house, right through you and Namjoon, he stumbles outside and onto the small patch of grass that is your lawn.

You pull yourself away from Namjoon’s grip, throwing yourself to the open door where you see Jungkook throwing up whatever's in his stomach and crying. You wanted to burst out of the house and just hold him, tell him you were okay, tell him you loved him one last time. But you couldn’t, all you could do was stand there and watch as he pulled out his phone and dialed the emergency number.

Soon enough there was a fire track, an ambulance, and several police cars lining the street. Namjoon tried to pull you away so you didn’t have to see what was going on, but you refused. You needed to see, you had to know what was going on. What was going to happen. BUt all those thoughts were thrown out the door when you saw your brother frantically pull up and run towards the house, pushing past officers trying to keep him away from the scene.

“Y/N?!” he screamed as the officers continued to hold him back. “Where’s my sister!? Is she okay?! Y/N!!”

“Yoongi! Yoongi I’m right here!” You screamed, banging against the force that confined you to the townhouse. Not caring if first responders walked right through you, you didn’t care. You just wanted your brother.

“Yoongi,” You saw Jungkook walk over to him, tears still falling from his face. You watched as the realization fell on his face. You were gone.

“No. No no no no no NO!” He clawed hysterically at the officers, begging and screaming at them to let him go. They only did as he fell to his knees, Jungkook right next to him and pulled him in close. Both of them crying their hearts out for you as people watched from beyond the police tape.

With the way your heater was improperly placed, it was an easy open and shut case. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Manslaughter. Your landlord was arrested and charged, plead guilty. He’ll get 3 years in prison. But that does little to resolve you or your family's grief.

It takes a while before your family has access to your house again, all the carbon monoxide cleared out from the space. The new landlady gives Yoongi a month to clear out your stuff. You watch there as your mom, dad, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung all stop by and help try and organize boxes. No tears are spared through the entire time, from them and your family.

Namjoon feels a bit awkward, staying off in the corner as you sit next to your mom as she folds all your clothes and puts them into boxes. He listens to your family as they tell stories about you, reminiscing on memories. He keeps a close eye on your though, despite him dying before, he never saw his family mourn. He’s unsure how you might deal with seeing them cry and divide up your stuff.

You only start to lose it when Yoongi finds the pink stuffed elephant he’d given you many years ago, hiding away amongst your pillows. When he pulls out the stuffed animal that was hidden away, you watched as he ran his thumb over the furry creature. He brought it close to his chest and let out a choked out sob. Unsure how much more you were able to take, you let out a scream.

Namjoon quickly ran over to the bedroom where you were on the floor, screaming and crying as Yoongi stood there crying, completely unaware of what was going on before him. “Hey hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He tried to calm you, but you weren’t having it.

“No! It’s not okay, Namjoon! I’m dead! Maybe you’d have time to accept things the way they were but I can’t!” You shouted, pushing him away from you. You let out another twisted scream that turned into a sob, shaking Namjoon to his very core. The amount of power and energy you put into that wail shook the bookcase behind you, a few of the books falling from their shelves. The man just sat there across from you as you curled into a ball and just cried, and cried, and cried. Not sure what else to say. What do you say to a girl who was wrongfully killed in her sleep? There’s nothing.

So caught up in your emotions and trying to keep you calm, neither of you see Yoongi notice stare at the bookcase and the fallen books.

The next few times your family and friends come to pack things up, Namjoon stays with you in the closet. Saying something about giving them space and you need space as well. At first you protest against it, not wanting to be confined to an even smaller space. But after watching your father tear up as he packed away your photos, you agreed. You couldn’t take much longer.

Several days had passed and all that was left in your townhouse was just the furniture. Your parents and brother arguing over who could keep what. There’s still a few boxes of your things scattered around the house, you wish you could steal a book or something to keep yourself occupied at least but you’d know they’d notice and find it right away.

Lightning cracks against the sky as rain pours down. To pass the time, Namjoon was telling you stories about the other tenants that had lived here; the frat boys, the families, the stoners, etc. You were in the middle of telling him a story about how you and Jungkook met Taehyung, how he at 17 years old stuck a bug up his nose on a dare when the front door slammed open. Lightning flashed behind the figure, giving you a quick outline of your brother with a bottle in his hand.

“Oh on, no no no.” You stood up to walk over to Yoongi but he just walked right through you. Soaked from the rain, he probably didn’t even feel the cold spot that was you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked as your brother dropped his bag on the floor, taking another swig of the whiskey in his hand.

“Yoongi, he-he doesn’t like drinking. . .he only does when. . .” Your voice trailed off. Hurt is evident in your eyes as he places the alcohol on the ground and shuffles around in his backpack. Pulling out a black box and frantically tore it open, pulling out a small speaker and wires.

“Come on, turn on you. . stupid fuckin’ thing.” He slurred as he pushed several buttons on the speaker until it blarred to life, a loud buzzing noise filling the living room. “Y/N? Are you there?”

Your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of your head. Never in your life did you think your brother would go to such lengths as to buy a spirit box?! You looked to Namjoon, unsure of what to do. He’s told you a couple times people figured out the place was haunted and they’d try to communicate with him, but this was different. He was looking for you. He only gestured for you to speak.

“Yoongi?” Soon as the words left your mouth, a robotic voice left the speakers and you swear he jumped ten feet in the air.

“Is-is it really you?” He clung to the speaker, bringing it closer to his face.

“It’s me,” you said. “I’m here.” The robotic voice followed after your’s. Yoongi let out a small cry, relieved you were here. You tried to say more but all that came out was garbled and mixed up. “Namjoon! What do I do?!”

“Calm down, small phrases.” Namjoon said, the spirit box picked up on his voice, repeating him as well.

“Y/N, are we alone?” Your brother stilled, looking around the room.

“No, someone else.” You said, sticking to the advice of small words and phrases.

“Who?”

“Namjoon, friend.” The man introduced himself. “Died here too.”

“This is. . .this is great? I think? Y/N, I- I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” His eyes welded up with tears as he spoke.

“It’s. . okay.” You slowly made your way over to your brother, you placed your hand right over his cheek. “I love you.”

You weren’t sure if he felt your presence or not but needless to say he shut off the machine and burst into tears, you cried as he cried. He sat down on the couch, taking a few more swigs of his bottle of whiskey. His cries eventually evolved into snores as he passed out. You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on you as you attempted to brush the hair from his eyes.

“I’m glad he didn’t do anything too stupid,” you sighed as you stood. “Or dangerous.”

“I’m sorry this happened, Y/N.” Namjoon said, as you made your way back over to him. Both of you just stand there, staring at your sleeping brother.

“Not your fault,” you responded. “Just, god, I hope someone takes care of him. . .”

“You have a very loving and caring family, Y/N. He’ll be okay,” he wrapped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you into him. As time passed, you’ve gotten somewhat closer. You can’t help but be friendly with him as he’s the only other person you have, being stuck in a 2 bedroom, 1 and a half bath townhouse for the rest of eternity.

When Yoongi woke up the next morning he was grumpy, per usual of him drinking. He didn’t touch the spirit box though. Didn’t even look at it. He just shoved it in his backpack and left, leaving the whiskey behind. You’re glad he left it behind, but at the same time neither of you don’t know what to do with it.

Namjoon tried to teach you to harness some of your energy to move stuff, him having several years under his belt. He’s able to move things around with little to no struggle, seeing how he was able to move your stuff around before. You however, struggle to move it even a centimeter. But he tells you not to worry, saying it did take him several years to master.

About a week after your brother came by there’s a small crowd of people outside the door. Before you can even warn Namjoon, the door opens up and reveals him, Jungkook, Taehyung, a short blond man you don’t recognize, and-

“Seokin?!” Namjoon almost instantaneously recognized his brother, only he looked. . .older.

“You know him?” You almost had eyes as wide as he does, staring at him as he moves with the group of people into the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s-he’s my brother.” He feels tears start to well up, stinging as he blinks them back.

“Your. . that would make you-”

“Taehyung, what am I doing here? You haven’t told me anything.” The eldest man complained as he settled into a chair.

“Dad, I told you just. . .just listen. Please.” Your blue haired friend sighed, giving his dad’s hand a quick squeeze.

You can only stare at Namjoon who in turn only stares at Taehyung and his father. That’s why his story sounded familiar. You vaguely remember hearing your friend’s dad say something about having a brother that died young. An accident. At a house. Your house.

The group of people settled around the table, only one left standing was the blond stranger who kept his eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. His face was scrunched up every so slightly, like he was feeling for something.

“Oh no,” Namjoon groaned. “They brought a psychic.”

“I feel. . .” He started.

“Watch he’s going to say vengeful or something like that,” your ghostly friend crossed his arms with a huff.

“Oh I feel a lot of different things,” he giggled as he opened his eyes, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Mainly confusion but. . .there’s some relief and happiness mainly surrounding you sir.” The psychic pointed to Seokjin, who looked even more confused.

“Are they here?” Yoongi asked him as he settled down in his seat.

“Yes, your sister and your brother are in the room.” he said with a smile.

“I’m sorry, what?” Seokjin raised a brow in disbelief. “No, Taehyung. I’m not going to deal with some phony who is going to just make shit up about my brother” He started to get up from his seat.

“Dad, wait!” Taehyung called after him.

“Pink! He likes the color pink!”

“Does the color pink mean anything to you?” The psychic said, stilling Seokjin.

“Pink was his favorite color, but to anyone who asked him what his favorite color was it was orange.” Namjoon just spouted off the fact about his brother. The psychic didn’t repeat the statement verbatim, but got the point across nonetheless.

“Mr. Kim, please just listen to what Jimin has to say. True me.” Your brother pleaded with him. Seokjin walked back to the table and took his seat once again. You could see his eyes were watering, like his brother he was blinking back tears.

“Continue.” He gave a small nod to the blond man, now known as Jimin, who smiled back in return.

“Now, we’re here to talk to Y/N and Namjoon, correct. That’s their names.” The table all nodded in response. “Okay, they’re here. They’re a bit confused so I’ll repeat my briefing. Hello, my name is Park Jimin. I’m a psychic medium. I can’t exactly see or hear you, but I can feel your energy and emotions. So please be gentle.” He gave a small laugh as he settled himself in your kitchen chair and closed his eyes. “Your family has questions, I’m here to help translate your answers for you. Family, if you please.”

“If Y/N is really here. . . what’s something only she and I would know?” Jungkook said, you had a feeling he was suspicious of this as well, just more quiet about it, possibly not wanting to insult Yoongi or Jimin.

You felt your cheeks burn as a memory popped in your head, immediately knowing exactly what proof he needed. “He uh, stole my first kiss when I was 13 underneath the monkey bars.” You let out a small chuckle at the memory.

Almost instantaneously, Jimin burst out in a giggle. “Oh my gosh, I’m getting monkey bars?” He kept his eyes closed as he brought his hands to his cheeks. You were keeping your eyes focused on the psychic, but out of the corner of your eyes you saw Jungkook stiffen. “Oh my face is red. You stole her first kiss.” He opened his eyes, a huge smile on his face.

“I’m sorry what?” Yoongi immediately turned to the younger boy, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Shush, it’s her.” He dismissed your brother as he leaned forward on the table, soaking in every word that Jimin said.

“Dad, do you want to say something?” Taehyung looked to his father who kept his arms crossed and his face stern. Glancing between him and Namjoon as he stood right next to him, you finally were able to see somewhat of a resemblance between them. The same messy dark hair, same stern eyebrows, you could only imagine what Mr. Kim looked like when he was Namjoon’s age.

“. . . Who was it. . .” His voice cracked as he spoke.

Namjoon paused, he hadn’t thought of the stranger in many years. . .did they never find him? All he recalls of him was a heart shaped smile and brown hair. He can’t recall much else about him, looking very much normal. Like the rest of the party.

“Hmm,” He watched as Jimin’s face scrunched up a bit. “He doesn’t know, all he remembers is the smile and his hair color.” He brought his hand to his mouth, gesturing to it. “It was a very specific shape too, I see it in my mind perfectly. I wanna say. . . heart shaped?”

Soon as the words left his mouth, Seokjin broke out into a sob. Namjoon watched as his son, his nephew, rumbed comforting circles on his back.

“Hoseok, fucking Jung Hoseok.” He choked out, hiding his face from the rest of the table.

Namjoon reached out to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. Trying to let him know that it’s okay, he’s not mad. It’s okay.

“Seokjin,” Jimin started. “Your brother doesn’t harbor any ill will towards him. He forgave him a long time ago.” He finished with a smile.

“But it’s my fault he’s dead.” He managed to get out. “I brought him to the party, I gave him alcohol. I was the one complaining to Hoseok about him needing to chill out. I caused my brother’s death!”

Namjoon froze at this information. He looked to you, who seemed equally stunned. The whole table seemed to be stunned into silence.

“I thought it was him for a while, but no one saw him give Namjoon the drugs. I had no evidence. Hoseok’s dad was chief of police so even if I did it would’ve been swept under the rug.” Seokjin finished as he wiped his tears away. The entire table stayed quiet, waiting.

Namjoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, despite the action doing nothing, it calmed him down. “It’s alright, Jinnie. I forgive you.” He focused all his energy onto his hand that was placed on his brother’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You need to forgive yourself.” He must’ve felt it because he started staring at his shoulder.

“He forgives you, Mr. Kim.” Jimin repeated softly. “But he thinks you need to forgive yourself. You can’t change the past. He learned that a long time ago. It’s time to let go.”

Eyes not leaving his shoulder, he nodded. “Okay. Okay Joonie.” He let out in a soft voice.

Jimin conducts the meeting for a little while longer, your respective families letting you know that you are always in their thoughts and how much they love you. You and Namjoon stayed near each other the whole time, giving each other the support you needed as you all reminisced on memories.

As the meeting started to come to a close, the blond psychic said something. “Now, this is not usually conventional for me but I feel like it’s necessary.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, looking at the man with concern.

“Both Namjoon and Y/N need to move on. It’s clear to me they have no unfinished business, so the reason they’re still here isn’t that.” He explained. “Sometimes when people die young they just get stuck behind, it’s not common but it happens.”

“So this will be our last goodbye?” Jungkook’s big doe eyes started to well with tears again.

“Yes, it will be.” He nodded. “Please say your final words.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi started, you watched as your brother’s lip trembled, trying to find the right words to say to you. “There’s so much I want to say but I can’t get it out. . I-I love you. You’ll always be my baby sister.”

Next up was Jungkook, who was keeping his eyes squeezed shut. “I wish. . .I wish I could’ve done more for you. I miss you and- and I’ll never forget you.”

“Namjoonie. . .” Seokjin began. “It seems like I just got you back and now I’m losing you again.” He let out a weak laugh. “I love you. You’re always in my thoughts.”

Finally was Taehyung, who just sat there with his lips pursed in thought. “Uncle Namjoon. . . I’m glad I at least got to meet you. . .kinda.” He smiled lightly. “Thank you for being there for Y/N. Please watch over her, she’s kind of a mess sometimes.” He laughed, causing the table to erupt in chuckles.

“Hey, I’m not that much of a mess!” You countered.

“Yes, you are.” Namjoon asserted as Taehyung finished his thought.

“Y/N, I’m. . . I’m gonna miss you. I’ll always be your bug.” He concluded. The table turned their attention back towards Jimin, who was wiping away tears.

“They’re not saying anything but it’s clear that they love you,” he said with a smile as he dabbed his under eyes with a handkerchief. “Now, Namjoon and Y/N. Please stand behind me and put your hands on my shoulders.” You followed his instructions, placing your hands on his shoulders, causing him to shiver. “Ooh cold. Now, join hands everyone.” He held out his hands for Yoongi and Taehyung to take. They did and the rest followed suit.

They all sat there in silence, eyes closed. You and Namjoon looked to each other, neither of you knew what was going to happen next. He’s tried for years to move on physically saying he’s moving on or had no more unfinished business, meditating. Nothing worked. Maybe he was stuck and needed a real and proper psychic’s help?

Suddenly warmth covered you and Namjoon. It’s been years since he’d felt warmth like this. He let out a sigh as the feeling enveloped him. He looked over to you and you had a relaxed smile on your face, content with everything. The sadness he was so used to seeing on your face was now replaced with a look of peace. If he was to look in the mirror, he was sure he’d look the same.

There was no light that neither of you could recall going into. You both just watched your world melt away into the next.

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skyofstorms · 1 year

Note

“I don’t know how to let myself be loved like this.” ( @ maggie )

Maggie is no fool to pain, or angst or this topic of conversation. it comes up at least once when they lose Manx. Maggie is laying next to her, one hand slipping beneath the fabric of her girlfriend's shirt to idly. "Love is strange, and it creeps in like a smoke." she mused. "But regardless, you're here now. I'm here. And I love you more than I thought I could love anyone." Which is scary in and of itself for Maggie, something Rayne is familiar with. They've come a very long way since their first nonverbal confessions when Maggie decided to drag Rayne out and do a special dance. The red lingerie is still with them, and Maggie has had to pull it out on a few occasions when Rayne starts getting lost in her mind. "I know how hard it is for you to trust, Rayne. It's not a habit broken easily. But we're in this, together. I promised you that and I have never backed out or broken a promise. You're stuck with me." Head lifts to lay a kiss at Rayne's jawline, purple hair shifting into her face as she looks at the other woman.

@ghostofaformerself

#Clear the darkness ⇼ answered #ghostofaformerself #Rayne L.#My tiles are never wrong ☆ Maggie #Walking through Darkness ✶ Maggie x Rayne #stop rewind and turn back time ⇼ queue

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cherry-moonlight · 4 years

Text

Life Could Be A Dream - Chapter Five

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N} Sorry this one took a little longer, mid-chapter my wrists started acting up. Carpal tunnel is a monster. D: Anyways, I hope you enjoy and that I’m doing our beloved Charlie some justice at least so far. <3 Warnings: None.

Chapter Five - This Isn’t Real

My voice had returned and my mind was racing even more than I expected it could’ve when Vic stopped talking. She picked up a pen from the table we sat at in the kitchen and fidgeted with it, clicking the top a few times as she looked me in the eye. It was clear she was waiting for any kind of response to the boatload of information she’d dumped on me.

“So I’m a… strong creative,” I made air quotes around the words that sounded more like a question than a statement.

She looked at me and nodded. “You don’t need to lose your voice every time you use it, though. I have a friend who’s just like us. Her name’s Maggie.. She figured out how to keep herself from dealing with the cost of using her gift.”

“What’s her gift?” I interrupted, curious.

“Her tiles,” she rasped. “She has a purple bag with scrabble tiles in them. They’ll tell you anything you want or need to know as long as you ask them. But, we have gotten the tiles mixed up before.”

All of this sounded like some magical bologna that I could’ve found in a novel somewhere, and had I not used my gift myself and seen the outcome with my own eyes, I would’ve laughed and told her she was losing her mind.

“Anyway, Maggie told me you either have to hurt yourself… or someone else.”

It sounded as though she was reluctant to tell me the latter of the two options.

“What’s the cost of your gift?” I asked again.

She hesitated, setting the pen down and looking me in the eye. “My eye,” was all she said, and I put it together.

I had seen her come back countless times that week with a bloodied eye, but the last time it seemed to have gotten worse. When we left Christmasland, it was bleeding. It all clicked then.

“But Maggie burns herself with a cigarette every time she uses her tiles,” she continued. “I’m sure you can find something to keep you from losing your voice. You have to focus on the pain in order to make it work. But don’t hurt people, {Y/N}.”

I nodded, taking mental notes of her advice. I’d never been told to hurt myself for any reason before but I guessed there were a lot of things that were new to me when it came to this seemingly supernatural situation. My lungs filled with air as I absentmindedly sighed. It felt as though I was thrust into a film and forced to figure out the plot. I was more thankful for Vic than I could’ve ever expressed.

The clock on the wall felt as though it ticked slower than usual as I realized how late it was. Time had gotten away from all of us once we’d started looking for Wayne together. After Vic extracted me from Christmasland on her dirt bike through the tunnel I saw in the forest, she instructed me not to say a word to anyone about what had happened. Wanting to gain her trust enough to figure out what all of this meant, I complied. Once we arrived back at their place and Lou went to bed, she stayed up to elucidate what was going on. But before she got into my gift, she explained that hers was not what I thought was a tunnel, but the bridge.

She called it an inscape. Her “shorter way.”

But after all of our efforts, it came to be that Wayne hadn’t actually been missing. He’d simply run off to play and threw Vic and Lou -and me- into a spiral of worry. Or at least, that was his story and he was sticking to it.

“Your knife is your voice,” she began again. “And your inscape…” Her brow furrowed as she looked around, picking up the pen again. “Well, I’m not sure. What were you doing when you found Christmasland?”

“Singing,” I said immediately. “I was looking for Wayne and singing.”

She clicked the pen on the table a few times, looking as though she were completely uneasy.

“Maybe you have a shorter way, too,” she swallowed hard, as though that wasn’t the first thing to come to mind.

“But Wayne was never at Christmasland,” I added.

“No.. No he wasn’t. But that bastard Charlie Manx is trying to change that.”

Ah. Charlie Manx.

The man of the evening that I wanted desperately to know so much more about. Vic had abruptly taken me from Christmasland without so much as an explanation, and at least now I knew why she was there. Still, curiosity had gotten the better of me to say the least. He was all I could think about during our search for Wayne and I was slightly bitter that I didn’t get to figure out what I was doing at the winter wonderland in the past through questioning him. He seemed to know far more about me than I knew about myself.

“What about him, anyway?” I questioned, trying not to sound as though I were too excited to get into the subject. “Who is he? What is Christmasland? Where is Christmasland?”

She leaned back in the chair, slipping out of her motorcycle jacket and hanging it on the backrest as her eyes seemed to grow dark.

“Christmasland is Charlie Manx’s inscape. It’s just a big, intricate figment of his sick imagination. His knife is a classic Rolls Royce Wraith, and he picks up innocent kids and he kidnaps them with it, and then brings them to Christmasland.”

Her voice became rushed and shaky.

“Once they’re there.. Well, I don’t know if they ever get out. They turn into something else.. Something inhuman. They attack people and they think he’s their father.”

She spit the words out like venom on the tongue. I wasn’t sure why, but I almost felt offended that she was speaking of him that way. My thoughts drifted back to when he called me by his last name.

“He thinks he’s doing them a service, these kids, by taking them from what he calls “neglectful parents” and giving them the home they never had,” her expression twisted into a cringe. “It’s somethin’ out of a horror movie. Probably why the plate on the Wraith says Nosferatu…” she finished, the statement sounding like a solemn attempt at a joke.

I had a voice now but I still sat in silence, mulling over everything she’d said. It was easy to remain quiet, especially when I had no idea how to handle what was going on when none of it seemed real. It was a lot to grasp, but the more information I had, the better. I must’ve looked as though I were deep in thoughts I shouldn’t have been having, because she reached over and grabbed my wrist then, her slender fingers squeezing it tightly.

“You can’t go back to Christmasland, {Y/N}. No matter what you do or what you think you need. It’s not safe. He’ll kill you. He’s tried to kill me, and Maggie, and..” she trailed off, clearly remembering something else. “Just don’t go, okay? Promise me.”

Somewhere deep in my chest, I felt a pang of hurt again. That kind of sensation where your heart breaks and you know the tears are next. Holding it in, I looked her in the eye, and against what I knew I wanted, I nodded.

“I promise.”

-x-x-x-

This was all more information than I could process in a day. My eyes were heavy as I layed on the couch and pulled the fuzzy blanket they’d given me over my shoulders. The house creaked and groaned occasionally as it settled for the night and it was warm and cozy inside despite the chill outside.

My day had been long and confusing, from the funeral, to visiting my house to grab my things, to finding myself at Christmasland. While I knew I promised Vic I’d never go back, I couldn’t shake the thought of it. The way the snow glistened under the lights; the way the maze of ice seemed to go for miles; the way the houses looked like gingerbread creations and— the way he smiled. His dark, deep set eyes narrowing at the corners just a bit as his lips pulled upwards with them. As though he had a million secrets and he was about to let you in on every single one of them.

I rolled over on the couch, and tried to think of something else as I dozed off, but I couldn’t help that my thoughts were too adamant for my own good. I didn’t understand how I could’ve been so captivated by him, especially after Vic’s rendition of Charlie as she knew him. Something deep inside told me I knew another version, and I just had to figure out which. But I’d made a promise to her, and learning about him personally was no longer an option. No matter how hard I tried to think of anything else, the last fragments of imagination that materialized behind my eyelids were of him.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the road to what I thought before was nowhere. The snow topped trees lined either side, but the moon in the sky was brighter than usual— in fact, so were the stars and everything else that surrounded me. The entire Milky Way could be seen above me, and everything I set eyes on was awe inspiring. Studying myself, I noticed I wore a deep crimson rockabilly halter dress with a big black bow tied in the back. I felt like a present wrapped under a tree, and while dresses weren’t my norm, I felt just as pretty as the atmosphere around me.

Oh, it was my usual dream, but it seemed every time I dreamt it, the more it changed. This time, it was gorgeous.

Snowflakes fell like glitter as I made my way forward, admiring the beauty of the surreal world that surrounded me. It was as though everything was suddenly clearer; as though my place in this icy dreamscape was solidified. My ears caught vague hints of the song that brought me to Christmasland, and I quickly realized that I was facing the wrong way. The twinkling lights weren’t ahead of me anymore, but a spectrum of colorful lights caught my attention as they reflected against the snow from behind me. With a deep breath I tried to conceal my smile. If I couldn’t visit it in real life anymore, my dreams did me the honor.

Upon turning around, I was met with the sight of Christmasland’s gates just up ahead. I’d finally reached my destination, and I knew exactly what my dream was all about. The entire time my subconscious was trying to remind me of a memory; a memory I’d soon revisit.

Seemed a little dramatic to me to have the dream so often, especially after how short my time there was, but at least I knew. I knew that there was more to me than just being the girl with a rough past and an unstable future.

When I took a step forward, I heard his voice.

“It is wonderful, isn’t it?” He said somewhat wistfully.

Charlie had appeared next to me at some point and I hadn’t even noticed in my mystified state. Still, just as he had in person, he stood a small distance away from me. I hoped my voice worked this time as I opened my mouth to speak.

“It’s beautiful,” I smiled.

Thank goodness I still had my voice. However, I had to remind myself this was only a dream. Even if it was lucid, it mattered not what I said or how I said it. But it was still the only chance I’d get to immerse myself in whatever fantasy this was anymore. It was the only place I could let my desires run freely without the repercussions of losing my only friend, and really, my only hope as survival. I rolled with my audience of Charlie Manx. Maybe my subconscious could answer a few of my burning questions about the situation, but he spoke before I could again.

“I must say, I was surprised to see you so quickly after your mother’s passing. My condolences..” He ended his sentence with a hint of joy, as though he were glad the death of my mother brought me to Christmasland, accident or not.

“It wasn’t my intention, but I guess it was meant to happen.”

I held my hands in front of me, letting our eyes meet. The electricity I felt buzzed through the air. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I didn’t want to lose myself so soon in the illusion. Fidgeting with the ends of my hair, I stood taller and began my small line of questioning.

“What is this place? Why do you know me?”

There was a glint in his eye as I spoke to him, as though he were absorbing my voice, some kind of odd pride becoming him. With a wave of his hand to gesture me to follow, he began a stroll towards the gates. I did as he suggested, wanting to hear what he was going to say.

“What do you remember?” He countered instead.

Damn it.

I tried my best to pull any memory I could from the darkest parts of my mind, sighing with a faint shrug.

“Not much.. I remember riding the carousel.. And playing the carnival games. Running between the flashing lights and laughing with other children,” I tried to rattle off, hoping a new memory would suddenly appear. “I remember how to get out of the maze, but I can’t remember ever being there..”

I peeked over at him.

“You did love the carousel,” was all he said, like he was waiting for me to make a breakthrough on my own. Until he spoke again.

“You were a model child at Christmasland, my dear. You played well with the others, made sure no one was left out. In fact, you enjoyed Millie’s company very much.”

Millie…

The name rang a bell, but before I had time to ask, he continued.

“You came to us one day quite on your own, which hadn’t happened before, and hasn’t happened again. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that that voice of yours brings you to Christmasland. Of course, you didn’t know that the night your father laid hands on your mother. But you left your cruel home to soothe yourself with song. The next thing we all knew, there you were. Tearful, and quite pitiful-looking outside of the Candy Cane Gates.”

“I came here on my own..” I reworded out loud, attempting to piece together any thoughts from that night.

It happened in my house more often than not, more often than anyone should’ve endured or any child should’ve seen. I remembered the night I left, the only night I left. For the life of me, I could not remember singing my way to Christmasland. At the same time, it was nice to hear that my scrambled memories weren’t just things I’d made up or imagined. They were real. I was there. Then again, no matter how vivid the entire dream was, I had to remind myself it was just that. A dream. This was all coming from my own mind.

“From then on we took you in,” he finished. “I knew there was something special about you.. That you were a strong creative, just as myself. That, and you wouldn’t have dreamed of putting yourself in a predicament that would place you on the naughty list.”

He offered a charming smirk at his quirky bit of information about me and I looked away, fighting the pull towards him I felt when he did. I assumed that my need to be good was out of fear after what Vic told me about him. But what he said next surprised me.

“You must bring Bruce Wayne McQueen to me, {Y/N}.”

My brows pinched together almost immediately. Victoria was right.. Or was this just my subconscious making Victoria right?

“Why?” was all I said.

“Because he wants to be here, with me, my dear. He’s told me so himself. I was well on my way to helping him, and then you made an appearance at Christmasland.. I’m man enough to admit that your surprise arrival distracted me enough to let the boy slip away. You must help me get him back now. Do not listen to Victoria. She doesn’t understand how unhappy her son is. He longs to join me and the other children. To finally be safe from her derelict ways of alcoholism and neglect.”

For being my dream, the request was odd.

“I— I would never bring Wayne here.. Vic told me all about you. All about how you think you’re doing right by these children but you’re not. I would never betray her like that. She’s given me a home when she didn’t...“ I cut myself off and regrouped, not wanting to get personal, whether it was real or not.

Despite my rattling off, he didn’t make a sound. He simply let me, as though he knew something I didn’t. As though it didn’t matter what I said, because he would find his way anyway.

“This isn’t even real.” I continued, stopping in my tracks, not moving any further towards the gates. “You’re not here. I don’t know why my thoughts are panning out this way, but I’m not bringing Wayne to Christmasland. I don’t know why I chose to stay here when I was a kid but I have a feeling I didn’t have a choice.”

He stopped several ahead and turned to face me. Shaking my head, I ran my hand back through my hair and dared to let my eyes rest on his again. There was a hint of sorrow in his eyes, like I’d disappointed him— but only for a second. I immediately began to speak again.

“This isn’t real,” I repeated, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince anymore.

“Not real?” The expression on his handsome features changed into something near mischievousness as he arched a single thick brow and approached me. It was the closest he’d gotten to me since we’d met again.

My heart pounded in my chest as I wondered what was going to happen. Each step he took was slow and calculated. It felt as though he didn’t want to get so close, but had a point to prove in doing so. My dress began to feel tight around my chest as I tried to steady my breathing.

Can you die from a dream?

He towered over me once we were opposite each other, and I allowed myself to look up, holding his gaze. Swallowing hard, I inhaled deeply and waited for whatever fate was to become me, mustering the strength to endure whatever was going to happen should I not wake up. It crossed my mind to pinch myself; to wake up before anything traumatic happened. But something within me wanted to stay. It was a strange sensation to stare what might’ve been my brightest dream or darkest nightmare in the face and not know which way the chips were going to fall.

Confusion was all I could sift through when his large hand reached for my neck, placing his thumb and index finger on either side of it as his palm rested lightly against my clavicle. I watched his features, noticing his jaw clench just enough for me to wonder if I had imagined it.

My {E/C} eyes were full of fear that I knew he had to see, but I stood still, waiting for his grip to tighten or his careful movements to turn into some kind of gruesome act. But as the seconds passed, I instead felt how cold his hand was despite not feeling the chill in the air around us; how gentle his touch was against my warm flesh. He treated me as though I were a porcelain doll, set to break at any moment if he made the wrong move. The faintest of smiles placed itself on his lips then, and my heart kicked up for a different reason that I hoped he couldn’t detect in my pulse.

“Wake up,” he instructed, showing off the velvet in his voice.

I gasped awake. Blinking my eyes rapidly through the blackness that was the dark room to gain any kind of clarity about my surroundings. I haphazardly reached over to the coffee table in front of the couch, tapping my phone’s screen for the time before looking around the room through the small amount of light. It was the middle of the night and I was still at Vic’s. Of course the dream wasn’t real. A quiet laugh passed through my nose as I shook my head and settled back into the couch, listening to the quietness around me. Almost hoping deep down that I would hear his voice again. But it all was silent.

What a strange dream it had been this time.

Charlie Manx had certainly made an impression on me, and I wasn’t sure yet in what kind of way. I didn’t want to think I was infatuated by his charm and devilish good looks, but it seemed more and more that I couldn’t deny the feeling. At least the only place I’d ever see him anymore was in my dreams. I couldn’t break my promise to Vic.

As I laid back down and stared up into the darkness of the ceiling, I let my hand linger up to my neck where his hand had been in my dream.

I bolted upright again when I felt a necklace that wasn’t there before.

My fingers swiftly felt around for a pendant or any sort of indication of what the piece of jewelry contained, and when I found it, I lost my breath altogether. Remaining deathly still, I held it.

It was the locket I’d hidden in my little cedar chest for years.

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #zachary quinto #charlie manx x reader #charlie manx fanfiction #nos4a2 fanfiction #fanfic #vic mcqueen #reader insert

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themusechronicles · 5 years

Text

Anyone wanna play with my babygirl Maggie? She's from NOS4A2.

#to remember me by;; photos #the pen chooses the author;; ooc #my tiles are never wrong;; maggie leigh #fairest of them all;; fc #fc; Maggie Leigh

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

Text

The Hourglass and The Oracle

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A spiraling staircase A bold fuchsia beauty Lights flicker in your eyes As our energies collide And, Darling, you're starting to get to me......

I'm not your Darling, John Buy a girl a drink first Before you thirst For what you can't get your hands on Throwing my head back with a laugh You're going to fall And it's going to be too fast Who said I was yours to catch? Ask me again And I'll ask you to dance

May I have a moment of your time? I don't need to be a Strong Creative, Dear To tease your mind A turn of the hourglass A trick of the sublime You're like sand through my hands Sifting too fast to touch And it's not enough...... You're the exceptional exception When I say we're hard to love.

Sparks fly Drawing you in I'll make you believe in magic again Fate's siren song calls to the Hourglass Man I guess it's my turn To show you my hand But be forewarned, My Gentleman Friend There's no telling what happens When you open the door to the static You might not want the answer Once you have it Shaking the bag Rolling the Dice A cigarette burn is a more than fair price To watch time drain from the Hourglass' eyes Clutching the hurt As your knife catches my eye Shattering your glass Scattering your sand Close your eyes, You Hopeless Flirt This is me, skipping dessert I gotta say you put up one hell of a fight Say goodnight, John You've run out of time

CHECK. FREAKING. MATE!!!!! Ladies and Gentlemen, the MATCH has been called, and the Hourglass didn't stand a chance against the Woman of the Hour, Our Dauntless Oracle, and very own, Miss Margaret Leigh!!! My GOD, Maggie seized her time to shine in a dazzling foray of sultry seduction, and deadly spectacle, and while it may have been The Hourglass' last bow, it was the iridescent ORACLE who stole the show, and she alone deserves our standing ovation!!! I LOVED this episode, beginning to end, the intrigue, the sleek deception, the intense human drama, all beautifully intertwined in this beguiling game within a game, a chess match of like-minded Creative prowess!!! Brava, Miss Leigh, and bravissimo, NOS4A2, for spoiling us yet again!!! "The Hourglass," is a violin overture of vulnerable human moments, and intellectual powerplays, reaching the fever pitch of the most ghastly, scream-bloody-murder cliff hangar of the entire series.

Where last week Charlie was the blunt force trauma, the pounding hammer, smashing everyone and everything in his path to Wayne, Maggie is the stealth strike, the seductively wielded scalpel, removing Charlie's secret weapon with lethal precision, after he proves to be the more immediate threat to her best friend, now that Charlie's absconded with her son. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fuchsia femme fatale, as lovely as she is deadly, the perfect rosé of coy and coquettish as she flirts with time and death itself. It was her finest hour, hands down, and I LOVED that NOS4A2 gave her the spotlight, and that she literally KILLED, leaving us begging for more.

Stop me if you've heard this one before. Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar........ Like an ingenue reminiscent of Old Hollywood, with every lilac strand of her rebellious florescence pinned in place, Maggie descends the long, spiral staircase, sending the lights to flicker, and drawing the eye of an instantly intrigued, Mr. Hourglass. I must say, The Hourglass Man's smooth, and tenacious pursuit of our Maggie, was a FANTASTIC blindsight, a surprise I never saw coming!!! Where I expected a smouldering duel to the death as soon as their eyes met, knives flying, I found myself drawn instead, irresistibly into the tantalizing tango between the two of them. Their witty repartee was both sparkling, and sharp-edged, as John advanced, and Maggie countered, playing hard to get, while secretly drawing him in. It's thrilling to watch, marveling at these seemingly unlikely lovers, and yet, with each move and countermove, I could see how much they thought alike, both crafty intellectuals, who knew how to play the game, and how to win.

"We're hard to love. People fall for us because of our abilities, but they always come to fear the very thing that drew them in. They tell us to tone it down, betray our gifts, like declawing a cat. It's cruel."

This is my favourite line in the entire episode, it struck me straight to the heart, tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by its tragic beauty and excruciating truth. It's also the one time that Maggie's smoky-eyed seductive veil slips, and she lets herself feel something very real. In that moment, as fleeting as it is, there are no sides, no waiting plots, or poised vendettas. There are two Strong Creatives, two kindred supernatural beings with very human feelings. Victims of their own gifts, with universal wants, and desires. Powers greater than their wildest dreams, but at what cost? In this moment, Maggie cares about John, connects with him, because she feels these words burn emblazoned, even hotter than the cigarette he's about to press into her arm.

Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar....... and only one comes out alive. These two take, "Get a room," to a whole new level!!! "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you want me to........." John says smoothly, before pressing a lit cigarette into Maggie's arm, telling her to harness the pain, let it consume her, until it's all she knows, and then whispers his question like a sweet nothing in her ear, nuzzling her close. John, with all of his scheming predilections and parlor tricks has found a way to cheat the Strong Creative check when it comes due. In event of seizures, or memory loss, you can hurt yourself...... or hurt someone else. I had always secretly suspected this proviso, I even wrote it into my own NOS4A2 Series, that my character's compassion gets punished by unknowingly hurting someone else, every time she uses her gift, but seeing John's shocking demonstration, breathing in with explicit pleasure as he burns her, watching Maggie's big brown eyes spark, both excited, and relieved that she can hurt herself and still use her powers, was an absolute ordeal. I have a feeling Maggie just discovered a dangerous new addiction........

Speaking of ordeals........ John shatters a glass table, ready to kill the messenger, when he doesn't get the answer that he wants, the fates formally denying his request for immortality. And it is here, in the midst of his ruffled, heartbroken, rage, that the events deviated dramatically from my own predictions. I thought Charlie had promised him immortality in exchange for killing Vic McQueen, and that Maggie had unwittingly unmasked this betrayal, proving Charlie had lied, offering the Creative Holy Grail that he intended to keep for himself. Immortality, apparently a non-transferrable work benefit. With our slighted Hourglass primed for revenge, and his particular fascination for Maggie, I thought for sure she'd be able to turn him against Charlie, brandish the Hourglass against his new business partner, rallying him to Vic's cause, and more or less, have him join Team McQueen to take Manx down once and for all.

I was wrong...... So, so wrong. I don't think any of us saw what was coming....... "It's rare I get such a hands on opportunity," John rasps, once he finds his stolen knife in Maggie's bag, teasing seduction climaxing into a crime of passion, as the two of them scrapple and scrape for the hourglass. "Sweetheart, give up. You're not getting out of here alive." Maggie gets choked, hurled over the shattered glass table, but you can't keep a good girl down, and The Hourglass is no Charlie Manx. "I tried to warn you, John, my tiles are never wrong." Maggie thrusts a shard of glass up into the Hourglass Man's heart, and with an anguished, hopeless cry he watches her stomp his knife into the ground, coming down on it hard, leaving nothing but shattered glass, and scattered sand. WOW........ I am speechless. I have to admit, I did not expect Charlie's new player and point man to be vanquished this early in the game, as awestruck as I am by this new fearless facet of Maggie's unique brilliance. She was elegant, badass, and beautiful, and I'm so glad he's dead, but I don't know....... I felt like his death was his third and final disappointment. Sorry John, we'll always have Parnassus.

Oh my God, if Maggie was this episode's Oscar Winner for Best Actress, Linda Freaking McQueen WINS for Best Supporting Actress!!!! She's the other sassy heroine of "The Hourglass," mouthing off to FBI agents like nobody's business, and it is SENSATIONAL!!!! "What does FBI stand for, huh? Failed. Bad. Incompetent? We're Americans!!! My husband works for the postal service, I go to CHURCH!!! Do better!!!" You TELL 'EM Linda!!! She's a delight in every scene she's in, standing up to the suits, and telling them what's what!!! She's had it with these big, fancy, feds not protecting her daughter, and she ain't afraid to get vocal about it. Aaaaaah and the whole conversation with her and Chris was AMAZING!!! There is something so fascinating about two hard knock realists, two complete skeptics talking about the possibility of the Supernatural.

"There's a difference between special, Chris, and magic. Our daughter ain't magic."

"How would you know?"

"Because I wiped her snotty nose, for Christ's sake!!! What kind of mother misses something like that?"

"The kind that's too busy hiding bruises and paying bills to look up."

Linda's emphatic disbelief is so perfect, and I just love the way she says that, "Our daughter ain't magic!" I also love how Chris is starting to believe in Vic, and it's that burgeoning faith in his daughter's abilities that makes Linda start to wonder if maybe her daughter could be magic. Chris owning up to his past mistakes, and blaming himself, for his wife's oversight, was such a bittersweet moment too, wanting so badly to let her off the hook. He's changed, they both have, and I couldn't be more proud. Another beautifully human moment that I really loved was between her and Vic, and here we finally find out why the McQueen women can't be close to each other. "I never felt that you needed me." It's a rare, deeply insightful look into Linda's heart, a vulnerable truth, and I feel like I know them both even better through it. Linda needs to be needed, she needs to have somebody to take care of, somebody that relies on her, and with a drunk, philandering husband who sought comfort elsewhere, and a fiercely independent daughter, Linda had no one. She felt listless, without purpose, and thus drowned her sorrows with a tipped back bottle.

The scene with Vic and Lou cuddling in his hospital bed also strikes a chord in this veritable symphony of human emotion, and with every new episode, I ship Team McCarmody even harder!!! Lou with a stint in his heart, and Vic with a concussion, and injured spleen, have this impossibly sweet moment, in the midst of the aftermath and ever-present horror of the abduction of their son. I love how they anchor each other, try to calm each other down, and still manage to make each other laugh.

"Han Solo ain't half the mechanic as Lou Carmody."

"Did you- Did you just refer to yourself in the third person...... and rate yourself....... ABOVE Han Solo?"

Vic's laugh in that moment is so pure, and a much needed relief, as she holds onto the love, the teddy bear of a man, that Charlie couldn't take from her, and in that moment, she decides to focus on what she has left, even while fighting for what she has lost. I'm reminded of a quote from my other favourite show, HEROES. "We're human first, and heroes second."

Charlie may take a back seat this episode, but he is still a coaxing, debonair presence with a teasing linger, and not without another clever trick up his sleeve. "There is no need to hide your cellular telephone from me, My Boy," He coos as Wayne fumbles to sneak a call to his Mom. I was SHOCKED when Charlie urged Young Bats to do just that, call his mother. "What kind of MONSTER do you take me for?" He asks silkily, feigning indignance, and with bated breath, we wait as the phone rings, and rings, and rings...... No way in HELL is Vic not taking that call, and yet, Young Master Wayne hangs his wildly curly head, defeated, as the call goes unanswered. "She's a real heartbreaker, your mother...... isn't she? Never there for you, no matter how good you are. It's not personal, Wayne. In the end Vic McQueen cares only for herself and no one else," Charlie chortles, and he knows it's working....... bit by bit, he means to turn his new favourite charge, against his own mother, convince him of her neglect and indifference. My theory? Charlie can block calls using his creative power, which would explain how he's avoided capture, and the FBI's modern trappings for so long. You sneaky, sneaky boy!!!

OH HELLO CRAIG!!!! Yes, you read that right...... CRAIG, Wayne's father who burned to death in the Wraith, like a ghastly apparition appears to his son, with singed skin, and glazed over eyes. At first I thought this was Charlie manipulating Wayne, showing what his mother did to his father, and how he wasn't ever going to be safe with her, but to my own astonishment, Charlie could not see him!!! Craig encourages Wayne, tells him Charlie's lying, gives him hope, and insists she's coming for him. I thought that was a spectacular, wide-eyed SHOCK that came out of thin air, and I couldn't help but think about how Cassie appeared to her daughter in this same way........ Hmmm can children, if they are Strong Creatives themselves, see the parents they have lost at the hands of Charlie Manx? Curiouser and curiouser........

My breath caught, everything going numb, when that bloody tooth fell out in Wayne's tiny hand. I LOVE that little boy with all my heart and soul, and I'm sorry, Charlie, but I do NOT want him to become a vampire!!! Wayne starts to change in other ways too, playing with a butterfly, as his usual cheerful self, adorably naming him Sunny, before killing it, ripping it into shreds, his sweet little face devoid of any emotion. WHAT!? I had chills like crazy, and I felt heartsick. I don't know though, did anybody else think that butterfly looked strange, almost not quite real? The way the Wraith rolled down the window to let it in...... It makes me wonder if this didn't just happen in Wayne's mind.

I did notice though, how long it took for the Wraith to siphon off Wayne's youth to heal the nasty gash on Charlie's cheek. Even Charlie starts to worry, checking the mirror again and again, only to find it slightly healed, and it's not until the near end of the episode that he looks one more time, nails resting on the side of his head, sighing into his hand with relief, when he sees his once again flawless visage staring back. It's like Wayne is fighting the car, slowing down its effects, because no child has gone this long without turning!!! All exciting further proof that Wayne HAS to be a Strong Creative!!! I also love how Charlie continues to be the perfect, doting father figure, ever so careful and patient with Wayne, and I just melted, with a besotted sigh when he asked him if he had to use the water closet!" That was precious!!! Also, my new FAVOURITE thing ever, is Charlie click-clacking his long, gorgeous nails along the Wraith's windows as he walks past it!!! Dear GOD, Handsome, WHAT are you doing to me!?

THAT ending though........ I'm crying....... I SOBBED, I'm so not okay. What the freaking HELL.........!?!? Just as we're all having cozy Charlie and Wayne feelings, fawning over them both, that DAMNED BASTARD Bing Partridge comes out of NOWHERE surprising our dashing vampire, shoving the gas hose in his face, and he goes down HARD!!!! Once he's disabled the Wraith, he abducts Charlie, and leaves Wayne behind. It's blood-curdling to watch....... knowing what horrors Bing has already committed, and what dark intention he holds for his once upon a time hero, now that Charlie's left him to die. I'm freaking scared. I was hyperventilating, and full of murderous fury even hours after the episode had ended. The wait for next week is going to hit a lot different, after that cruel cliff-hanger, and I can only hope Charlie can dangle Christmasland in an effort to thwart Bing's fat, homicidal hand. Bing Partridge, you hateful Son of a BITCH, if you disturb so much as one strand of Charlie's beautiful raven hair, I'm gonna KILL you SO DEAD!!! Time's run out for the Hourglass, will another of Vic's foes meet the same fate? Bing Partridge must DIE!!! Somebody......... SAVE CHARLIE MANX!!!!!

#nos4a2 review #charlie manx #maggie leigh #vic mcqueen #linda mcqueen #wayne mcqueen #bing partridge #save charlie #the hourglass

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

God Forgive Us All (part three)

[Carrie AU]

Part 1 Part 2

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word Count: 3560

TW: Anne and Cathy have to explain what a period is to a teenager so if that bothers you then beware

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Dreamer In Disguise

“I-I made you cookies!”

A platter of lumpy, cinnamon-sprinkled cookies covered in a thin plastic wrapping was held up to Anne. She glanced at them, then at the nervous, but excited girl offering them to her. She smiled and took one.

“Thank you, Joan.” She said. She took a bite and Joan clenched her fingers around the plate expectantly.

The cookies were a tad too salty and a little hard, but good nonetheless.

“These are really good!” Anne said and Joan sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Miss Anne,” She said, cracking a small smile. “I-I have to go find Miss Cathy and Miss Aragon and give them some!”

Anne shook her head fondly as Joan scampered off. The cookies really did help with the hour of warmups with Aragon and then rehearsals. It was so good to see Joan opening a little bit more.

But that all ended when the workday came to a close and Anne and Cathy walked out into the theater lobby to leave to find Joan slumped against the wall, hugging her knees.

“Joan?” Anne said as they hurried over to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. H-hi.” Joan croaked. “I-I missed my bus...”

“Ah,” Anne nodded. “Well, why don’t you call your mum to pick you up?”

“I tried,” Joan said. “She’s in one of her...moods.” She hugged her knees tighter. “I-I don’t wanna go home when she’s like that, anyway...”

Anne and Cathy exchanged worried frowns. Cathy crouched down next to Joan and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t you come to stay with us for the night?” She offered.

Joan’s eyes went wide. “R-really?” She looked up at Anne, who smiled at her. “Like...like a sleepover?”

“Yeah!” Cathy nodded. “Like a sleepover!”

“I-I’ve never had a sleepover before,” Joan said wistfully. “C-can I really?”

“Of course,” Cathy said. “Come on. Up with you!”

She got Joan to her feet and they all walked out to the car. Joan was quiet for most of the ride, just listening to the radio she had never heard pop music before. Though, Anne nor Cathy wouldn’t be surprised if her mother only let her listen to church songs and gospel music.

It wasn’t until they parked in the apartment complex parking lot that Anne and Cathy realized how strange what they were doing was. They were bringing home a sixteen-year-old girl they had no relation to at all. If it were anyone else, like Kitty or Maggie, they might have been a little uneasy, but Joan...

With Joan, it just felt right.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Anne said grandly, unlocking and opening the front door. Cathy walked in first, followed by Joan. Anne locked the door behind them after stepping inside.

“Make yourself at home!” Cathy said as she was turning on the lights.

Joan looked around the apartment, curiosity glinting in her eyes. When she was done examining every inch of the living room, dining room, and kitchen, she hooked her bag on one of the dining table chairs and walked over to Anne and Cathy. They both noticed that she kept glancing over at the dining room the most- was she looking for something?

“Joan?” Anne said.

“S-sorry.” Joan stammered. She reached up to instinctively mess with her necklace, but Anne caught her hand and held it in her own, stroking the knuckles with her thumb.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Anne assured her. “We were just about to order something to eat. Do you like pizza?”

“I’ve only had it a few times,” Joan admitted shyly. “Back when I was still in school. Sometimes they did these pizza parties. But, umm. Yeah, I like it.”

“Any particular kind?” Cathy asked. She looked up from her laptop, where she was already on some pizza shop’s website.

“Cheese?” Joan said and Cathy nodded and smiled.

“You don’t go to school anymore?” Anne asked.

“Oh.” Joan looked a little awkward. “I-I’m homeschooled. Actual school—it wasn’t working out.”

Anne frowned slightly. “How come?”

Joan glanced up at her for a moment, then back to the dining room, and then focused her gaze back on the tile floor. She worried her hands in her shirt.

“Kids—were mean. To me.” She said in a tight voice. “Th-they called me names. Like ‘Maggot Meutas.’ And would write things on my desk. Mean things...”

“Oh, Joan...” Anne hugged Joan gently and she hugged back. Anne can feel her nuzzle her face against her chest. Cathy looked up from her computer to frown sadly at the girl. “That’s so terrible. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Joan shrugged casually. “It’s—fine.”

But it isn’t. Anne thought. Not in any way. And certainly not to her. She studied the girl hugging onto her. She’s embarrassed about admitting her treatment because she thinks she deserved it and is also humiliated by it, but she wants to be comforted. She wants people to feel bad for her so they’ll finally take care of her. Because nobody ever does.

“Stop reading people, Annie.” Cathy chided playfully, not looking up from her computer. Anne ruffled and stuck her tongue out at the smirk her girlfriend was giving the screen.

“Wh-what?” Joan looked up at Anne with a confused expression.

“Nothing, sweet girl,” Anne said dismissively, stroking down a few locks of wild blonde hair on Joan’s head.

“D-did I do something?” Joan asked nervously. “I’m sorry...”

“No, no,” Anne said. “You’re being absolutely wonderful, Joan. You have done nothing wrong, I promise.”

Joan hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. She didn’t seem entirely convinced and that was making her glance more and more at the dining room.

What is it? What are you scared of? Anne so desperately wanted to ask. What do I need to protect you from?

A ringtone then went off. Joan jolted and scrambled to take her phone out of her back pocket. It was an iPhone 5, Anne noticed. Joan must have had it for a long time since Anne was pretty sure those models weren’t made or even sold anymore.

“Hello?” Joan said into the phone. She begrudgingly pulled herself away from Anne, stepped into the dining room, and then immediately went to the living room when she cast an anxious glance up at the ceiling above the table. “Mama?”

Anne really hadn’t been wanting to snoop, but not she had to. Besides, Cathy was definitely listening in, anyway.

“I told you, mama, I missed my bus.” Pause. “I-it was an accident!” Pause. “N-no, I’m safe. I’m staying with some friends.” Pause. Joan wrinkled her nose a little. “Yes, mama. Friends. Their names are Cathy and Anne. They’re—” She glanced over at the pair and they tried to look like they weren’t eavesdropping. “—sisters.”

Anne couldn’t help but make a face at that, but then instantly knew why such an excuse was needed. If Joan’s mother seemed as crazy religious as Joan made her out to be then she definitely wouldn’t approve of homosexuality and her daughter staying with two lesbians. She glanced at Cathy and saw that she was giving Joan a sympathetic look.

That made Anne think—what if Joan ended up being gay? Or bi? Or ace? Or anything but heterosexual? Cathy’s parents were very accepting of her sexuality and absolutely adored Anne, while Anne had the misfortune of having parents that were “okay with it as long as she never brought it up”. Not the worst treatment, but definitely irritating when she had been younger. But she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Joan would be treated by her mother if she turned out to be LGBTQ+ in some way. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to her.

“No, no, mama,” Joan had been saying when Anne finally tore her thoughts away from Joan being killed or brainwashed into being heterosexual by a church, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise. Cathy and Anne are really nice, I’m telling you!” Pause. She went very rigid. “Wh-what?” Pause. “O-okay.” She turned to Anne and Cathy and stammered, “Sh-she wants to talk to one of you.”

Cathy stepped up before Anne could even really process what had been said and took the phone, saying, “Hello” in her best please-don’t-think-I-kidnapped-your-daughter voice.

Joan scampered over to Anne and went straight into her arms. Anne was slightly shocked at how she willingly went into the hug but pleased nonetheless. She was thrilled to know Joan trusted her enough to cling to her in such a way.

“There there,” Anne murmured, stroking Joan’s hair. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

“I-I’m sorry, M-Miss Anne,” Joan whimpered. “I-I know you and Cathy a-aren’t sisters—”

“Joan, it’s okay.” Anne assured her. “I understand. Trust me, before I told my parents Cathy and I were dating I would say she was my ‘Latin tutor’.”

“B-but you’re allowed to kiss your Latin tutor,” Joan pointed out. “Not your sister...”

Anne chuckled, filling with endearment. “Well, it’s a good thing she isn’t my sister then, huh?”

“Yeah,” Joan nodded slightly. She rested her head on Anne’s chest, taking a deep breath. “S-sorry—for freaking out.”

“No need to apologize,” Anne said. “You’re all good!”

Joan nodded again. She kept her head on Anne’s chest until Cathy walked back over and gave her back her phone. She said goodbye to her mother and told her she loved her before hanging up.

“I bet she’s great at parties,” Cathy chuckled, making Joan blush shyly. “I smoothed things over, Joan. Don’t worry. She said you can stay here.”

Joan breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I-I was really scared for a minute that she would...” She shook her head. “I’m glad I can stay.”

She would what? Anne asked in her head. What does she do to you?

“Us too,” Cathy said with a grin. “Because I don’t think Anne and I can eat all I pizza I ordered by ourselves.”

“How much did you buy?!” Anne asked, whipping her head around to her girlfriend. At the same time, she heard Joan giggle softly- actually giggle- and it was the sweetest, most adorable sound she’s ever heard before.

“Not that much!” Cathy said. “I was joking!”

Joan giggled again and Cathy and Anne beamed at her. But then they both frowned in worry when she suddenly gasped in pain and her arms coiled tightly around her stomach.

“Joan?” Anne steadied her when she began to wobble. “What’s wrong?”

“I-it hurts,” Joan whispered fearfully. “M-Miss Anne, it hurts! Wh-what’s g-going on?! Why d-does it hurt?!”

Oh dear. Anne thought.

Joan really didn’t know anything about menstruation. She was working herself up into a proper panic attack, whimpering and squeezing her stomach tighter.

“Hey, hey,” Anne guided her to look at her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No, no-” Joan shook her head. “I-it hurts!”

“I know it hurts, sweetheart.” Anne said.

“You’re having cramps.” Cathy told her. “I’ll get a hot water bottle and some Ibuprofen.” She quickly went to go bustle through the cabinets.

“C-cramps?” Joan echoed nervously. “L-like a stomachache?”

“Sorta.” Anne said. “But it’s down in this region,” She gestured towards Joan’s lower stomach. “Does it hurt bad?”

Joan nodded with a whimper. “Really bad.” She whispered. “L-like I’m gonna be sick...”

“Do you think you are?” Anne asked. “We can go to the bathroom.”

“I-I don’t wanna throw up,” Joan said miserably.

“I know you don’t,” Anne said, brushing back a loose strand of hair from Joan’s pale face. “Why don’t we just sit down on the couch? Does that sound better?”

Joan nodded and Anne guided her over to the couch. She curled against her side, hugging tighter at her cramping stomach and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Shh, shh,” Anne murmured when Joan whimpered. She began to rub her back comfortingly. “You’re okay, baby girl. You’re okay.”

“Wh-what’s happening to me?” Joan asked fearfully. “I-is it the devil?”

Anne almost laughed, but then she saw that Joan was being completely serious and that the thought of the devil being inside of her was genuinely freaking her out. She shook her head.

“No, Joan,” She said. “It’s not the devil. This is a completely normal thing. All girls go through it.”

“Th-that’s what Miss Aragon said,” Joan said. “Does she bleed, too? And have cramps?”

Anne couldn’t bite back a laugh this time. “I’m sure she does, honey. It’s not really a thing you ask other women, though.”

“Oh.” Joan blushed, and then asked anyway, “But—you. Even you? And Cathy?”

“Yes,” Anne nodded. “And Jane and Maggie and Kitty and every other girl in the show. Although, Kitty’s came when she was twelve.” She tilted her head at Joan. “Yours was super late. What a peculiar little thing you are.”

“It’s because I sinned...”

Anne gave another startled laugh. “What?”

“I sinned.” Joan said, looking up at her. Her shimmering silver eyes were so obliviousness and unknowing to so many things. “M-my mama said that the blood is a curse—from God. And I sinned when I was showering with all those ladies two days ago. A-and I had lustful thoughts about them...” She looked back down, ashamed of herself.

“Did you?” Anne asked.

“I don’t think so,” Joan said. “I-I mean—they’re all very pretty, but I don’t want to— I wasn’t—”

“Hey, hey. Breathe, baby.” Anne murmured, noticing that Joan was getting distressed again. “I believe you when you said you didn’t.”

Joan nodded. She shifted closer to Anne and then winced when another cramp seemed to seize her in a vice grip. She whimpered into Anne’s shirt.

Cathy walked back over holding two pills of Ibuprofen and a glass of water in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. She gave the hot water bottle to Joan.

“Hold that to your tummy, sweetheart,” Cathy told her. “And take these. They’ll help you feel better.”

Joan obeyed, swallowing down the pills and then holding the fuzzy hot water bottle close to her lower stomach. She rested her head against Anne’s arm, looking utterly miserable.

“Joan,” Cathy said, sitting on the other side of the girl. “Do you know anything about what’s happening to you?”

Joan shook her head. “No... Why does it happen? Am I just bleeding for fun?”

Anne laughed and rubbed her head. Cathy smiled a little at her innocence.

“I didn’t think we would be giving THIS talk today, Cath,” Anne said jokingly.

“Well, we have talked about adopting,” Cathy said. “This is like a rehearsal!”

Adopting, Anne remembered giddily. Adopting... She looked longingly down at the girl curled up against her.

“Okay, so,” Cathy began with a clap of her hands. “Joan— Wait. When did you get pulled out of school?”

“Last year.” Joan said.

“So you would have had biology classes, didn’t you? Or those SexEd courses?”

“Oh, no,” Joan shook her head. “My mama always made me opt out about that stuff.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Cathy said, then noticed the guilty look on Joan’s face. “No, no, sweetheart, it’s not your fault! I knew a girl who didn’t take the course one time.”

But not every single time. Anne thought.

“Okay, so this may sound a little strange and it’s totally okay to be weirded out by it.” Cathy told Joan. “I was grossed out when I first heard about it, too. Basically your uterus is shedding its lining and it’s passing through your vagina and out of your body. This means that, technically, your body is capable of carrying and delivering a baby now. Every month, your uterus lines itself and waits a while. If at the end of the cycle, the egg cell prepared isn’t fertilized and embedded in the lining of the uterus, it sheds the lining to prepare a new one. Basically, your body finds out that you’re not pregnant, and cleans out everything to get it all ready and fresh again, just in case you get pregnant the next month around.”

Surprisingly, Joan didn’t look grossed out at all, just very, VERY confused. She looked up like she was deep in thought, trying to process all of that, and then finally said, “That’s weird. I could have babies now?” Her nose wrinkled at the thought.

“It’s possible, yes, but not at all a good idea.” Cathy said. “Your body might have a menstrual cycle now, but you’re not nearly mentally or physically ready to have kids yet.” She smiled slightly, glad that Joan was taking all the new information well.

Joan relaxed and nodded. “How do people get pregnant, then? You said the egg has to embed in the uterus, right? How does it know to do that?”

“Well, women have egg cells that contain half the DNA and chromosomes needed to make another human. These samples of DNA all come from you. That’s how children get to look so much like their parents. Men, then, have sperm cells that contain the other half of the DNA and chromosomes needed. The sperm fertilizes the egg and then pushes it up into the uterus. Once the fertilized egg is embedded in the uterus, that’s conception, and the woman is pregnant. This generally happens as a result of sexual intercourse.” Cathy replied to her easily and Anne gave her an amused look at how she explained this so smoothly. She would have to tease her over it when they were alone.

Joan nodded again, this time a little more knowing. “I know what that is.” She said.

Cathy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Joan said. “My mama told me about it. And warned me to never EVER do it. Not even after I get married, but the Bible says it’s okay once you’re wed!” She paused. “Are you guys married? Do YOU—”

“That’s a conversation for another time!” Anne yelled, covering Joan’s mouth and the girl dissolved into adorable giggles. Cathy gave her a look that basically said, “Another time?”

“How do the babies get each trait from their parents? I mean, if a baby gets half it’s DNA from its mum and half from its dad, why do I look like my mama but she always says I have my papa’s eyes?”

“That’s a great question!” Cathy said and Anne laughed softly. “Some genes that are passed down are dominant and some are recessive. Your mother’s genes must have won out over most of your traits and was passed along to you, but your father’s eyes were dominant over hers.”

Joan took all this information in with surprising fascination. “How long do periods usually last?” She asked.

“On average, they last between three to seven days and happen once a month.” Cathy answered.

“I might bleed for seven days straight?”

“There’s a possibility, yes.”

Joan wrinkled her nose in an adorably grumpy way. “I don’t like that.”

“Trust me, no woman does.” Cathy laughed. She perked up when the doorbell rang. “Oh! Food’s here!” She got up to go answer the door.

“Better now?” Anne asked.

“I think so,” Joan nodded. “It is weird.”

Anne laughed and stroked her hair. “Yes, yes it is.”

“Come on, you two!” Cathy called from the kitchen. “Before I eat it all!”

“Oi! Don’t you dare!” Anne barked. She hauled Joan to her feet. “Come on! You heard the glutton!”

—

“A daughter,” Cathy said.

“Huh?” Anne turned away from the movie they had all been watching after dinner to look at her girlfriend.

“A daughter,” Cathy said again, smiling softly down at the girl asleep with her head in her lap. “I want a daughter.”

“Me too.” Anne grinned back at her. “A boy would be way too hard to manage.”

“Yeah,” Cathy laughed. “But also...there’s just something that draws me to a little girl.”

“You are a lesbian,” Anne pointed out. “You do prefer girls.”

“Really?” Cathy said. “I had no idea!”

“You dork,” Anne nudged her playfully. “Keep your voice down you might wake her up.” She smiled lovingly down at Joan, who had fallen asleep with her head in Cathy’s lap halfway through the movie. “I told you Brave was boring.”

“It is not!” Cathy ruffled. “It is a cinematic masterpiece!”

Joan stirred in her sleep. Cathy immediately quieted down and stroked Joan’s hair.

“Shh, shh, go back to sleep,” She murmured when she saw Joan’s eyelids flutter slightly. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry.”

Joan calmed with a content sleepy noise.

“Good job.” Anne tittered.

“Hush up.” Cathy elbowed her lightly. “I will not make that mistake when we get a little girl of our own.”

“Well,” Anne mused, “when you think about it, we kinda already have one.” She happily looked down at Joan again. Cathy sighed.

“Annie...” Cathy said. “She has a mother. We can’t-”

“We can!” Anne said. “Her mother clearly isn’t good to her. We can arrest her for child abuse! And then adopt Joan!”

Cathy shook her head, but didn’t comment.

“I know what you’re thinking, Cath,” Anne said. “But there’s something special about her. I don’t know what it is, but I— I want her in my life. In OUR life.”

Cathy looked at her, then at Joan, and gently began to thread her fingers through her hair.

“Well,” She said. “I wouldn’t have to give the period talk all over again...”

#carrie au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine parr #joan on the keys #parrlyn #boleyn x parr #parr x boleyn #god forgive us all #tw: period talk

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boleyn-falcon · 4 years

Text

Unlikely Shepard

So here it is! i finally finished the one-shot for @moan-jeutas with the prompt “you’re bleeding” with reluctant caretaker Jane and Joan!

synopsis - Joan is sick and the Ladies in waiting call in a very reluctant Jane Seymour to handle it while they are doing the show for things to just take a bad turn.

Trigger warnings - Vomiting, illness, blood/pus, open wound, skin picking/scratching - tell me if i need to add anymore!

words - 3012

Joan had been insisting that she was fine for about a week, that was clearly a lie. For the past few days she's been running fevers,aching, having headaches, all of those kinds of things but still came to work as if she was right as rain. She was about as “right” as a category five hurricane on a small island. Joan thought if she didn't show up to work they would fire her and everyone would hate her, so she had never missed a day of work. She woke up around 7 as normal, but right as she began to get out of bed a searing pain shot through her abdomen. She was taken aback by this, literally and metaphorically and fell back onto her bed. ‘Shit that's not good’, the pianist thought, she tried to stand once more but all she managed to do was fall face first onto her carpet. All that came out of her was a low grunt and pained “Ow-damnit”. She laid there for a solid five minutes to see if the pain would subdue but it just got worse and worse.

She eventually, but very slowly, made it to the kitchen to see Maria making her morning coffee. She stumbled past her and to the cabinet to grab some ibuprofen but was stopped by the drummer in her tracks. “Are you okay Palomita? You don’t look well, should we call in the-”, Maria was stopped mid sentence by the blonde. “No no! Heh don’t worry, im fine, yep completely okay to work”, right as she finished her sentence another wave of sharp pains hit her like a truck, causing her knees to give out. She hit the tile with a small whisper-like attempt at a shriek that just came out as a pained squeal and wrapped her arms around her torso. Maria was quick to grab her bridal style and get her to the couch with the pain killers and a glass of water.

Right as Joan is settled onto the coach Bessie and Maggie finally decide to come down stairs. “Shit is Joey okay?”, Maggie said worriedly as she picked up her pace and found her way to her friend’s side on the couch. “No, i'll call in and say that me and her need to stay home today”, Maira stopped as she heard a groan to her side, “No i promise i'm fine just-”, “No Joan, your staying whether you like it or not”, Bessie said firmly. Bessie turned and walked into the kitchen as she began to call someone. “Hey Seymour you know how you have a lot of free days saved up?... Yea so do you mind coming over for a day and watching Joan?.. Okay thanks, she was just ill and all, yea text me when you're on your way over”. The rest of the ladies looked to the black haired bassist with confusion, waiting for her to explain. “Jane is going to stop by for the day to take care of Joan while we are at the show”, Bessie said nonchalantly. “Wait”, the drummer started. “ how’d you convince her to do that so easily?”, “Well she owed me one so yea she was hesitant but she didn't really argue it” .

You would think the timid blonde would love the idea of Jane coming over to take care of her right? Well sort of, Joan loved to idea of spending time with Jane, but she doesnt wanna be clingly or say somthing stupid to make Jane hate her. The anxiety bubbling in her stomach only got worse a few minutes later as she heard knocking at the door, she knew exactly who it was. All Joan could really do is curl up in a ball with her blanket over her head like a child hiding from a monster under her bed. She thought if she just imagined Jane wasn't even there it would make things better, she was wrong.

Maggie got up from her friend’s side to answer the door, she only hoped the Queen could help. She opened the door to see the Blonde queen with a duffle bag and an unreadable expression. “Heh heeey Jane, come on in..”, the burnette opened the door more to let her in. Jane immediately went over to the bassist who was sitting on the floor next to the couch. “So what symptoms does she have? Anything like fever or vomiting?”,Bessie got to her feet to get eye to eye with the taller women, “All we really know is that she’s in pain and as pale as an egg shell”, a small groan came from the mound covered in blankets on the couch from being compared to an egg. Jane just tilted her head and gave a confused look to the raven-haired woman. “ Wait wait, so you called me over to skip a day of work to take care of some cramps and her complection?”, Jane asked with an unamused tone,looking over to the pile of pianist on the small couch. Bessie gave a disgruntled look to the queen, “well she’s obviously in pain and needs to be looked after so nothing bad happens and you have the most vacation days… and remember the streetlight Seymour”. Jane gave a defeated look as she set her stuff down on the floor near the coffee table. Maira and Maggie just gave confused glances but decided not to question what ‘the streetlight’ was.

The next few minutes was just the Ladies in Waiting, minus Joan of course, getting ready for the day and Jane setting up the living room for the day. Maggie slyly shuffled into Bessie’s dimly lit room and gave out a small ‘ahem’ noise to signal her presence in the room. The shorter girl turned around and shot her friend a small smile, “Hey Mags what's up? Need a hair tie or something?”. Maggie gave a worried look to her bandmate, “Do you think Joey will be okay? I know Jane will be here and all but I'm still a bit worried..”, the bassist walked forward to put a reassuring hand on the guitarist’s shoulder, “Don’t worry yourself Mag, she’ll be okay, trust me okay?”, Maggie gave a slight nod and a small smile as she left the room to continue changing.

Maria was having her own little bit of worry. She finished her hair and clothes as soon as she could so she could check on her little dove. She knew how Jane and Joan’s relationship was, Jane was cold towards the clingy girl most of the time but she knew there was some part of the queen there that loved the girl dearly, she just had to let it out. The drummer also hoped Joan wouldn’t get too anxious and make herself even sicker and make things worse. She saw it before on Cathrine’s deathbed, the more worried she got, the more her sickness consumed her. She just didn’t want a repeat of what happened all those centuries ago. She quickly walked down the stairs to find Joan still in her small blanket caccoon and Jane in thier pantery. Maria walked over to the pantry where Jane seemed to be searching for something. The curly haired woman reached over and shut the door to the pantry and guided the queen over to the fridie and pulled out a container of soup. The taller woman gave a confused look as she was handed what she was looking for, “It’s broccoli and cheddar, her favorite” Maria then grabbed a lone spoon from the counter and handed it over. “Huh funny, it’s Anne’s favorite too”, Maria cut her off slightly, “Maggie’s too, I guess Anne and her ladies all had a similar taste in soups”. Jane poured the container as the gears in her head started to turn, ‘oh yea Joan was one of Anne’s maids of honor’, she finished warming up the soup and walked into the living room to find the rest of the band waiting. “So”, the Bassist started, “We are off but make sure to take good care of her Seymour, if not you know what will happen”, both women gave a knowing look, still leaving the other two muscians confused as ever.

Maggie bent down to the bundle of blankets and gave it a nudge. A mess of blonde hair popped up from the blankets with a grumpy look that quickly changed as she saw who had disturbed her. “How you feelin’ Joey? Any better?”, Joan only gave a small huff and a sad look back at her friend. Maggie then revealed what she had in her hand to her sick comrade, a teal hoodie with a black guitar on the front. She handed it out towards the sickly girl who quickly grabbed it. “We’ll be back soon, little Roo”, Maggie gave a smile as Joan held the hoodie close with a barely audible ‘thank you’.

The band finally left with a choir of ‘Love you’’s and ‘get better’’s. Jane finally got a chance to sit down and assess the situation. She sat the hot soup bowl down with a napkin and a spoon on the coffee table in front of Joan, ready to get to work. “Okay Joan, how are you feeling? Can you let me feel your temperature so I can see if I need to give you anything for a fever or not?”, Joan anxiously sat up from her blanket cocoon to finally address Jane. She bit her lip shyly as she decided to actually speak to her queen. “W-well I've been having waves of really bad pain in my stomach a-and I’m kinda nauseous, oh yea-yea you can check my temperature”, the pianist gave a worried glance to the older woman as she leaned forward and touched her lips to her forehead. Jane’s head shot back in surprise, “Joan you're practically on fire! You gotta take all of those blankets off, and go change out of those fuzzy pajamas and into a tank top and shorts”. The pale girl got up carefully and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room so she could change.

‘Jeez’ Jane thought, ‘It can't be that bad, I mean colds happen all the time she could have probably handled this herself, yea she completely could’. Jane places all of her cold medicines on the coffee table and walks into the kitchen to find an ice pack to put on the younger girl’s head till her fever let up. Right as she reaches the freezer she hears a large ‘thunk’ come from up stairs. Jane first thought nothing of it till she got back to the living room with a mickey mouse ice pack in hand, realizing Joan has been changing for 8 minutes now. She put the ice pack down and walked up the stairs to Pianist’s room to find the girl sprawled out on the carpet. She had only some navy athletic shorts on and a sports bra with a white tank top a few feet away from her body. As Jane bent down to get the girl up she noticed she had begun shivering like it was below freezing. She quickly scooped the girl up in her arms and speedily got her to the couch to lay her down. Her eyes were half open but also seemed pained. The now concerned caregiver put the small ice pack on the girl’s burning forehead and nodged the girl’s shoulder. “Joan..? can you talk to me at all?”, the sickly girl only gave a small whimper as she closed her eyes and dozed off. The motherly queen was originally very reluctant to help the clingy young girl, but her worsening state made her a lot more concerned for the poor girl’s health. She was slightly glad Joan could get some rest for that would surely help.. Right?

About 3 hours passed and the pale MD was still passed out. Jane had eventually put the soup back in the fridge and started reading a book on her phone, waiting for the girl to wake. The queen finally took a break from her novel and started to give the sick girl a good look to find anymore concerning symptoms she may have when she spotted something odd. She got closer to get a better look to only find a gnarly scab right above the girl’s hip. The area around it was raw and red, with even a hint of green and white showing infection. A lightbulb finally went off in her head, ‘This isn't a normal cold, it's an infection caused by this wound, but how did it happen?’. The older woman was put out of her train out thought by Joan stirring in her sleep. The stirr soon turned into thrashing as her legs started to kick and silent tears streamed down her face. Jane quickly jumped into action, she took the sick musician by the shoulders and shook her. “Wake up Joan! C’mon wake up!”, Joan’s eyes shot open and she started to trash even more to break out of the blonde’s grip. Her hands found their way to her damaged hip and began to scratch relentlessly.

Jane quickly grabbed the girl’s wrists and pinned them above her head, but it was too late. “You’re… bleeding”, the wound on Joan’s hip had been reopened by the scratching and started to bleed and ooze pus. The MD began to sob uncontrollably and hyperventilate. The blonde queen finally let go of Joan’s wrist to grab some antiseptic and large plasters. Before Jane could stop her, Joan got up and attemped to get to the bathroom but collapsed half way there and threw up onto the wooden floor. Jane was extremely overwhelmed, she set the medical supplies down and walked over to joan and tried to sit her upright so she wasn't lying next to her own bile on the floor. She grabbed the napkin in her pocket and cleaned Joan’s mouth, she carried the ill girl over to the toilet in case she needed to get more out. The older blonde quickly walked back to grab the medical supplies so she could clean up the infected wound as soon as she could.

The choked sobs of the pale girl continued until she felt arms wrap around her. “It's okay Little Lamb, you’ll be okay just calm down for me”, Jane’s soft voice made Joan’s sobs slowly diminish and just turned into a silent cry. The pair sat there for a solid ten minutes, all Jane did was whisper comforting words and keep her hold on Joan, making sure she had time to calm down.

The queen carried the MD back to her spot on the couch and handed her Maggie’s jacket to hold while she cleaned up the bile from the floor. When she returned she had a bottle of antiseptic and a towel in her hands. Joan gave a confused and worried look to her caregiver. “Okay Joan can you turn on your side for me sweetheart?”, the pianist hesitantly obliged, Jane put the towel on the couch and Joan’s lower back area and sighed. “This is going to hurt a bit Little Lamb.. I promise it’ll be over soon but i have to do this ..”, the concerned woman poured the antiseptic on the infected gash and Joan let out a heart wrenching shriek that shook the house. The wounded girl squirmed and held tightly onto the teal hoodie in her arms as she tried not move even more than she already was. Jane continued to clean the bloody and pus covered wound to the best of her ability and finished it off with a large plaster.

After a few minutes Jane sat next to the ill girl and put a comforting arm around her,“I know that you probably don’t wanna talk about it but i'll ask anyway, but why Joan? What caused you to do this to yourself?”. Joan shuffled uncomfortably but she figured she might as well tell the queen the truth, she did just clean up her throw up after all, she deserved the truth. “I...I just get so sacred and so anxious, it just happens I guess, it's an outlet of sorts”, Jane gave a concerned glance, “But why are you so scared and anxious? Is something going on Little Lamb?”. The pianist paused but decided to spill her guts, “Everyone hates me i just know it, I’m too helpless and too clingy… and if i can’t do my job right people are gonna hate me even more then they will fire me and then i'll be useless…”. Jane stared silently at the girl next to her for a moment and thought, ‘Had Joan really been suffering this much? Was her coldness making this all worse? This needs to change and it needs to change now’. Jane wrapped Joan in a bear hug as the sick blonde began to silently cry again.

“Joan”, Jane started slowly, “You need to listen, no one hates you, I promise, not any of the queens and especially not your girls. We all love you very much Joan, we care about you so very much, we will always be here for you”, she finished with a soft smile. She held Joan tight and kissed her temple as the ill girl began to calm down. “So how about we watch some movies? Will that help at all Little Lamb?”, Joan nodded and looked up at the queen, “Can we watch Aritocats..?”, Jane nodded and turned on the Tv and put on the movie. They laid back comfortably and started to watch. Joan moved to lay on Jane’s chest and that's how she stayed till her bandmates came home to find her sleeping while Jane continued her book.

“Good job Seymour, thank you”, Bessie whispered as she moved the tired blonde from Jane to her room. The Taller women gave a small smile as she left, thankful that she helped the ill girl when she needed it most.

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

wow okay I stayed up till 5AM to finish this while also drugged up on adderall and I think it actually turned out kinda good, i mean i still suck at writing but hey what can’ya do? and its my first angsty kinda fic so it prolly sucks more lol

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stellar-alley · 4 years

Text

Everfalls

•Chapter 2•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

(Summary: Eddie finds his father's best-kept secret. Richie gets some well-awaited news. )

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

He travelled about an hour northwest, he continued away from the ocean and deeper into the forest. At times it was almost too thick, but he kept going. The sun had begun to rise when Eddie stumbled upon a sign, 'Welcome To Derry'. He glanced down at his map, so close. And he was close. It took the boy a while to square in on the exact coordinates, but once he did, he knew he'd found his father's secret.

It was a house and a big one at that. It stood tall on the outskirts of the city. Far enough out that he could be one with nature and the residents of Derry wouldn't be a bother. Eddie stood in front of the house and let out a sigh laced with excitement and fulfillment. The moment he stepped onto the property he felt it, he felt the magic of a protection spell wash over him.

Smart one dad...

The bunny looked around and he could practically see it, a forcefield of magic surrounded the house. It also made the house seemingly invisible to anyone that wasn't deemed worthy, which made sense, considering humans never wondered why there was a random house no one owned. By the way it simply let Eddie pass through, he assumed it was a blood spell. Meaning it only allowed those of the bloodline to pass through or anyone deemed worthy by the one who set the spell, or whoever it was passed onto. With that, he removed the beanie that sat on his head, allowing the cool spring breeze to flow through his hair and tickle his ears, it felt nice.

Well I guess this is mine now

He smiled happily at the house that stood before him. The house was surprisingly fairly clean, the same way all the nature in The All Lands was always kept at bay, magic. Yes, there was some dirt, dust and cobwebs, a broken window even, but it was nothing that Eddie hadn't dealt with in the past. As he walked through the house, he couldn't shake the familiar feeling that he wasn't alone. Somewhere, somehow, he knew his father was with him. Just being in the house-made him feel so much closer to Frank than ever before, with his hat, compass, and now the house.

Eddie did a quick walkthrough of the house. The main floor had the essentials, kitchen, living room, dining room and washroom. The upstairs had 3 bedrooms and a washroom. Eddie quietly placed his bag down on the bay window in the room at the front of the house. He liked the bay window and the bed seemed comfy, a little dusty but nothing a good cleaning won't fix. There was also a basement but Eddie got the chills just looking down the stairs, so he closed the door and decided to check it out another day.

As the bunny stood in the kitchen and admired his new house, he debated where to sit before he hoisted himself up and onto the counter. From there he sat and listened peacefully, the house settling, the birds chirping outside and the odd gust of wind that blew by. He stayed like that for a while, in complete harmony with his surroundings.

Suddenly his leg twitched, something that wasn't rare, but also not a coincidence. A moment later he felt that same twitch vibrate through his entire body. He hopped off the counter and shook it off. Quickly, he tried to calculate how long it's been since he last shifted.

Maybe a couple of days? I've been pretty preoccupied with the council on my back, but still, I've gotta go and fucking run free or something.

This will be good. It's a new town anyway, so I might as well go do some exploring...

With the plan already laid out in Eddie's head, he marched out of the house and gave it one last look before continuing out onto the front lawn. He found a good spot where the grass wasn't too long and he still had a good view of the road to town.

Being a hybrid has its perks for sure, but being half-animal didn't simply mean you had ears and a tail, there was also the shift. Every hybrid could do it, they need to do it. It's like the animal that resins deep within their soul must be let loose every couple of days, or else it begins to get restless, that's when their animalistic side tends to show. This results in humans creating myths like werewolves and vampires, to explain what was happening to the Ancestors who couldn't show their true colours.

Although the shift isn't what the humans made it out to be, well not for Eddie at least. He's never met a werewolf so he can't really ask if it's the same but he's heard enough stories to know that it's not as gruesome as humans believe it to be. Anyways, for Eddie, his shift is simple.

The teen began by crouching down, low to the ground and getting a feel for the earth beneath him. Followed by the tingle, the same one that you see when a bunny's nose twitches randomly, that tingle. It starts off in his nose, then the feeling washes over his entire body. Yes, there is some pain since the guy is literally shrinking and growing white fur. But there's a magical essence to it that allows the last little part to simply be overtaken by a quick glowing light. Once the light disappeared, there sat Eddie Kaspbrak, who was now in the form of a small white rabbit.

Richie Tozier bolted upright in bed. His entire body was shaking with a feeling he'd never experienced before. His skin was covered in a layer of sweat which caused his curly hair to matt to his forehead. The boy tried to get out of bed but failed as his legs were tangled up in his sheets. After mentally cursing out Sleeping Richie, Awake Richie began to tug his feet free from their silky prisons. Just because his feet were free didn't mean he still wasn't a 6-foot tall clumsy mess, because the moment he set his foot down on the floor and began to stand, a wave of nausea washed over him. Richie fell to his knees, dizzy and confused; he looked down at his hands which were swaying back and forth in a blurry haze. Quickly he reached for his glasses on his nightstand and slapped them on his face, but that only made the nausea worse. Finally, he caved and ran to his washroom and fell to the floor in front of his toilet just in time because he immediately began throwing up everything he'd eaten the day before.

After the vomiting stopped, Richie sat on the floor of his washroom and let the cool tile floor beneath him soothe his overheating body. He tried to remember everything he ate the day previous, attempting to pinpoint the substance that had poisoned him. With no luck, Richie flushed the toilet again for safekeeping and trudged back into his room. He looked over at his alarm clock and saw that it was 8 am on Saturday. Usually, Richie would still be in bed for another 3 hours or so before waking up, but after that incident, he didn't think he'd be able to fall back asleep. So he opted to get an early start on the day.

Of course, Wentworth and Maggie Tozier were already awake and in the kitchen, fixing breakfast and discussing their plans for the day ahead. Only did they stop when their son cleared his throat a little too loudly from where he stood at the entrance of the kitchen. When Wentworth saw his son he froze in his stance, "SHH! Maggie, shhh" He put a finger to his lips and shushed his wife, "I think we just stumbled upon the elusive Richard, darling we haven't seen one of these in ages. Do you know how rare they are?" he asked in astonishment as he spoke in an Australian accent. (It's his Bear Grylls impression)

"Ahaaham funny" Richie deadpanned as his dad dropped the act. "Son! Good to see you up so early, what's the special occasion? Are your friends coming over? Wait, crap is it Christmas?" His jaw dropped suddenly, "Shit... It's your birthday isn't it?".

This actually received a subtle laugh from Richie, his dad always put him in a good mood. "Wentworth gets off a good one” Richie chuckled, “Don't worry dad you're in the clear. But uh- I did do something" He began, unsure how to tell his parents he just puked up his lungs in the upstairs bathroom.

Maggie's brow scrunched together slightly as she took a step towards him, "Are you okay Richie?" her head tilted slightly.

"Y-Yeah... Well, I think so"

"You think so? What happened?" Maggie questioned and began inspecting her son.

"I threw up. But not like- a little, like a lot. Like a lot a lot-"

"We got it Rich" Went's lips were pressed into a thin line as he stopped his son from digging himself into a deeper hole.

"Honey, what happened?" Maggie moved to put one hand on Richie's shoulder and the other on his forehead to feel his temperature, "no fever...".

"I-I don't know" He sounded almost defeated, his eyes stayed on the floor as he continued, "I'm nauseous and sweaty and I feel like my bones are just gonna fucking jump out of my body-"

Went cut in, "Language" with a half-hearted tone.

"I don't know what's wrong with me" Richie finished, finally he looked up to see his parents sharing a knowing glance. It was like they were having a conversation with their eyes, no words were said but Maggie and Went both knew what the other was thinking. "What? What's going on? You two meddling kids better tell me what's up or else I swear to god!" Richie had subconsciously slipped into one of his various voices as he pretended to scold his parents.

"Do you want to or?" Maggie asked Went as she motioned to the two.

"I can do it" Went confirmed as he turned his attention back to his son. "Rich, I know we've talked to you about this before and you're ready for this, we know you are, so don't worry okay? Everybody's first full moon is always a big occasion and it'll really be-".

"MY FIRST FULL MOON?" Richie gasped, his eyes had doubled in size as he stared at his parents in shock, "No way! What? Really?" He asked eagerly, "How are you so sure?".

"You've got all the symptoms. Nausea, vomiting, weak bones, it's all there honey" Maggie pipped up with a small smile, "Aw, my boy! Going through his first transformation already" Her smile only grew wider as she went to hug Richie. He let her hug him only for a moment before he wiggled out of her grasp.

The full moon was a big occasion for the Tozier family, as it was for every other Ancestor. Although the Tozier's didn't associate themselves with the Ancestors in any way, Wentworth left that life behind him when he chose love, all those years ago. Once he was an Ancestor like every other werewolf was, he lived in one of the bigger cities near Maine, the sister city of The All Lands, Everfalls. He grew up there with his parents and his younger brother West. Even with all of the lessons taught to him throughout the years, at the age of 14 Went still snuck out to the human world and he met a human girl named Margaret, who he'd grow to fall madly in love with. The love birds had a plan to run away and live their lives together, but the council caught a whiff of their little runaway plan. They made Wentworth choose between staying in Everfalls or being forever banished to the human world. (Since an Ancestor could never marry a human) Of course, he chose Maggie, he chose love. He was never the biggest fan of the way the council ran things anyway, so he was more than happy to finally be out of their grasp.

Wentworth and Maggie Tozier went on to get married and even have a kid of their own, Richie Tozier, who we all know and adore. The thing with raising a werewolf in the human world was that it was a challenge keeping their secret, a secret. Both Went and Richie had pointed fluffy wolf ears, instead of normal fleshy human ears, those weren't too hard to hide. Richie got away with it by giving the school some forged doctor's note that claimed he needed to wear a hat because of how the fluorescent lights in the classroom fucked with his hair. So Richie usually wore beanies and snapbacks which hid his wolf ears. But that wasn't all, the father and son also both had long wolf tails that sat right at the bottom of their back. These weren't hard to hide, just more of a pain. Normally Rich would wear multiple layers of sweaters and jackets, so he could hide his tail in the layers. But no matter how he hid it, at the end of the day he always returned home with an ache in his back and a minor headache.

In places like The All Lands and Everfalls, werewolves would've been taught at a young age how to shift from human to wolf and vice versa, but those who were never taught as pups usually experience their first full transformation after their 16th birthday. Richie had turned 16 in March and it was currently May, so it made sense.

"So what are we gonna do? Go terrorize the villagers? Or go plot our revenge against the Ancestors and that damned council?" Richie schemes, he rubbed his hands together in an evil manner, ya know like Dr. Doofenshmirtz.

"Hm yeah maybe" Went played along for a moment before he dropped the act, "Probably just the usual, you, me, down in the cellar".

The Tozier's chose this house for one main reason, aside from the fact that it was DIRT CHEAP, it had a cellar with a hefty door which made it perfect for full moons, so the werewolves wouldn't get out.

"But seriously Rich, now's the time you've really gotta be careful, alright? Any small thing can make you go all wolf and the last thing we need is a call from your teacher claiming you ate another student" Went was cracking a joke but the message still got through.

Even without the full moon, Richie always had to be careful. Whether it was watching his anger or making sure his hat was positioned correctly, he always had to be careful. If he lashed out in class, he'd feel his fangs begin to lengthen in his mouth and need to go to the bathroom to calm himself down. If he got a bad mark on a test and curled his fingers into tight fists. When he'd unclench his fists to find small semi-circle nail marks on the palms of his hands that were on the verge of bleeding because his claws were coming in. He was always careful.

It's one of the reasons why he used comedy and sarcasm as a defence mechanism. It was a way to get the message across without throwing punches and risk killing his poor victim with his enhanced strength.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll be careful. Now can I get something to eat before I go and eat those three little pigs?"

(get it? Cause... ya know, Big Bad Wolf, Richie's a werewolf? Three little pigs? Get it? I know I'm hilarious.)

Since it was Saturday, Richie spent the day lounging around the house doing whatever he pleased. He'd start off by playing some video games in the basement and maybe even do some homework in the living room while his parents watched their usual Saturday afternoon cooking shows together. By 3:00 pm the teen werewolf had sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom and read comics.

Ms Marvel had just finished saving Jersey city when Richie closed the comic and stood up. He began to walk out of his room but stopped in the doorway when he noticed the way the sun beamed into his room. The urge to look out his window filled his body as he turned and made his way towards it.

It was a sunny day for May which was nice, especially since it practically rained the entire month of April. The sun brought a new look to the Tozier's backyard, which Richie's room looked out to. It's warm afternoon light made everything just a little brighter, Richie could feel the edge of his lips tug upwards and into a warm smile with the sunlight that warmed his cheeks.

Something moved. Richie caught it out of the corner of his eye. He titled his head and focused on the spot where he'd seen the movement. The creature was easy to spot as it contrasted against the greenery in the Tozier's backyard. A little ball of white fluff sat peacefully in the grass. Richie smiled a little brighter at the sight of the cute little white rabbit.

Haven't seen one of those in a while

The thought drifted to the surface of Rich's mind as he studied the precious little bunny. Its nose twitched and one of his ears flopped slightly. "Awwe" Richie cooed at the cuteness of the little rodent. He scrunched up his nose as his smile grew wider.

"Cute, cute, cute" he mumbled to himself and watched the bunny hop off into the hedges.

Later that day when dinner time rolled around the Tozier's sat in comfortable silence with the TV on low in the background. Richie finished chewing on the piece of steak he had in his mouth before he asked, "Have you guys seen any white rabbits lately?". The question stemmed from the fact that Richie had seen countless rabbits throughout his lifetime, yet he couldn't bring himself to remember if any of them had ever been purely white.

Maggie and Wentworth had another silent conversation with their eyes. "No... Why? Did you see one, honey?" Maggie asked with curiosity, she set her fork down on her plate and looked across the table at her son.

"Uh- yeah I saw one when I was reading, it was out in the back" Richie explained, "It's not like a saw an alien" Richie let out a forced chuckle since the air in the room had become tense.

"No, it's just odd. You know why white rabbits are so rare?" Went asked, he didn't wait for a response as he just kept going, "White rabbits are a symbol for magic. If you were to go to any land populated with Ancestors, all you'd see are white rabbits. They rarely ever come onto human territory".

The young werewolf's eyes grew wide, "Wait, so are you telling me that we had an Ancestor on our property today?".

Went scratched his head and contemplated the different options that could explain the event, "No... Not necessarily. Not every white rabbit is part human. Yes, some are-

Maggie cut in, "It could've just been a rabbit who spent too much time in Everfalls or The All Lands. Or maybe it was enchanted?" She looks over at her husband for backup.

"Precisely" He winked at his wife. "I wouldn't worry too much about it Rich. Just let us know if you see it again" Went concluded, he then proceeded to dig into his steak, his incisors had come to a point, his fangs out. Richie lightly rolled his eyes and let an amused huff of air out through his nose before he followed suit and continued his dinner.

Word Count: 3275

Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to chapter 2! I really hope you guys are liking this as much as I like writing this. Let me know in the comments if you liked this chapter and if you're excited to see what happens next!

Don't forget to like, comment and share! It motivates me to write and show you enjoy my content.

See you next Friday with chapter 3!

Until next time

So Long and Goodnight!

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