#anyway this quote rattles off in my head at all hours of the day

[wisecrackingeric-2]

In Sickness And In Health

Summary:

Luis comes down with the flu, and hasn’t eaten all day. Luckily, his boyfriend Leon is there to make him a warm meal and help him feel better :)

Basically just sweet tooth-rotting fluff from start to finish

Fic below cut!!

A/N: this one is dedicated to @mostlyghostly42 and @mooseonahunt !!!!!!!! You guys know exactly why. Thank you very much for making me laugh so hard my lungs collapse and thank you very much for putting me in your quote book I will forever treasure this inside joke <<<<333 What’s the inside joke you may ask? I fear I cannot tell you because I will be cancelled

Anyways!!!!! I made this fic because I had the flu. Fun!! And now it’s the 696’th fic in the Leon x Luis Tag on ao3. I Wonder if any of this has any deeper meaning or if I’m just tired

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To say Luis was sick would be an understatement.

Sure, he was no stranger to pain; after all, getting a knife stabbed cleanly through your spine was bound to leave anyone with at least some chronic pain-

But this was just straight up dreadful.

Luis had no clue where he might’ve caught it from, let alone from who, because he’d rarely left the house all weekend- but like some kind of cruel twist of fate, he had come down with the worst flu of his entire life seemingly overnight.

Ok. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Luis had dealt with worse. Like, a lot worse. He’d fallen sick to his own creations and experienced pain no single human being should have ever had to go through more times than he could count on his own two hands-

But that didn’t mean the flu he currently had didn’t suck. And he sure as all hell made it known just how bad it was whenever he wasn’t in so much agony he could hardly talk.

‘Is this really all it takes to shut you up?’ Leon had joked one morning, earning him a weak but passionate slap across the shoulder. Luis had to bite his lip hard in order to not fall into a disarray of giggles at the mere sight of Leon smiling like a sheepish young boy.

‘ Maybe you should get sick more often”

“Maybe you should get off your ass and help me, Pendejo”

“Alright, alright!! Such a drama queen…”

That was, of course, all before Luis got really sick.

In just a matter of hours, Luis was left totally bedridden. He couldn’t stand (Actually, he couldn’t stand or walk, like, at all most of the time- having a hole on your spine does that to you) and his body just felt awful.

Luis’ head throbbed with what he thought was one of the worst headaches he’d ever experienced in his entire life- his brain thrashing around in his own skull like church bells on a Sunday morning- and his chest ached and rattled with every intake of breath he took. It sounded awful, and it felt even worse. At times he just felt like holding his breath for a few seconds just to alleviate some of the pain.

His entire body felt like lead and the ends of his limbs tingled with sharp, stabbing pins-and-needles; if he dared tried to move his head or god forbid stand up, his limbs and skull held him down like a fishing lure.

But the absolute worst part of it all were the cold chills.

Every few seconds, sharp, painful chills would Wrack Luis’ spine and leave him shivering cold- colder than he should have been inside of his and Leon’s warmed-up apartment. The chills felt like repetitive, stabbing, freezing knives crawling up his back every few seconds and goddamnit he just wished they would stop already. He’d had more than enough of knives in his back to last him a lifetime, after all.

They felt almost painful, and no matter how much he begged Leon for more blankets, he insisted on keeping just a single thin bed sheet over his back as Luis curled in on himself in an attempt to gather any semblance of heat.

“ You’ll overheat if I give you more blankets,” Leon had explained. The warm hand on Luis’ forehead checking his temperature feeling like a godsend.

“ And you’re already burning up. You’ll just make yourself more sick, dove”

“Mmmmcold…….” Was all he had the energy to reply with in the moment as he brought his wrists up to his chin and whined when another chill wracked his spine.

Leon gave an ever-familiar sympathetic sigh, “ I know, I know… it’ll pass, doll. I swear.”

And that’s more or less how Luis ended up in the position he was. Curled up with his knees at his chest and his wrists tucked under his chin, feeling simultaneously too tired to move yet too sore to fall asleep. If he dare try and move from the position he curled himself up into, his body would pull him back down into the bed again like a ball-and-chain. So all he could do was close his eyes, sigh, and wait for either sleep to come or for something to happen and grant him some relief.

Luis felt Leon slip into the bed beside him, his familiar weight sinking against the mattress and even though he could hardly open his eyes to see, Luis could just tell Leon had something in his hands.

“You feeling alright, dove?”

Leon asked, his voice soft and full of sympathy. Luis very rarely ever got to hear Leon be so quiet and gentle, so as awful as the situation was, he treasured it best he could.

Luis couldn’t say anything in response. He just gave a grunt-y noise from his throat to confirm he was still alive and went straight back to feeling like dead weight.

He physically cringed when another sharp, painful cold chill shot up his spine.

And Leon must’ve noticed, because in seconds, his hands were already carding through his long, fanned-out hair and scratching the temple of his head with repetitive and reassuring scritch-scratch-scritch-scratches. Luis’ hair has grown significantly longer since when they first met, and he was surprised Leon’s fingers didn’t get tangled in his curls.

The blonde's nails felt almost heavenly against the brunette's scalp and he wished he could fall asleep like that forever.

Luis didn’t even realize a moment had passed until Leon spoke up once more,

“I made you some dinner”

That got his attention. He peeled his heavy eyelids apart and blinked at the plate Leon held in his hands; too disoriented to make out what was on it.

“It’s just some cheese sandwiches,” Leon mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed. If Luis were feeling even the slightest bit better, he probably would’ve made a jab at Leon’s American-style dish and lack of cooking skills- but honestly? His heart felt like it was melting at just the thought of his partner cooking him something while sick.

Mierda, está locamente enamorado de este hombre.

“I know it’s not a lot, but…”

Leon continued on, picking up a slice and holding it up to where Luis lay with his vision half-swallowed by the pillows. The smell of warm cheese was oddly welcome.

“But, y’know, you haven’t eaten all day, and you need something in your body,” Leon’s tone was far from upset, but he was definitely trying his best to get his point across to Luis- who, right now, felt like doing anything but eating.

“‘Sides, I made these specially for yooouuuu…”

Luis huffed as much of a laugh as he could manage at Leon’s tone, a smile barely evident on his face- but it was enough of a confirmation for Leon to take the bait.

“C’mon, you know you want iiiiiiittttt….”

“ M jus’ sssso tired….” Luis tried to defend himself, every word that came from his mouth rung in his skull and only added to the already painful headache.

He tried his best to not seem even the slightest amused by Leon, but goddamn, was it hard.

“I know you’re tired, hun,”

Leon kissed Luis’ (rather sweaty) forehead and began rubbing circles into his back when the brunette shivered yet again. And Luis practically melted at his touch; grateful for even just the smallest bit of warmth against his skin. Leon was like a walking furnace most of the time, which only made Luis want to instinctively curl up to him even further.

“But you’ve gotta eat something. You’re just gonna get more sick if you don’t”

Luis made a noise that vaguely sounded like ‘I don’t care’, but it was far too muffled to realistically be considered English at all. If even just moving his head and talking was enough to have Luis’ skull feel like it was collapsing in on him from the inside out, he shuddered to imagine what eating would feel like.

When he heard Leon sigh in defeat, Luis mentally rewarded himself for winning their make-believe war of attrition;

Only to be stopped in his tracks when he heard Leon making…. Fucking plane sounds???

“ Bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrr…….”

“ Leeeoonn…-“ ‘ ¿Qué carajo estás haciendo?’ Is what Lui s wanted to say, but he was promptly cut off when Leon continued;

“Uh, here comes the aeroplane…. Nyoooom…..”

“ Jesús maldito cristo- Leon!!”

Finally, finally- of all the goddamn things- that finally got a reaction out of Luis. He threw his head back against the pillow and laughed harder than he had in days. Was it painful? Oh, absolutely- his head felt like it was being slammed against a wall and his chest rattled like crazy;

But Luis would be lying if he said he wouldn’t trade Leon’s laughter alongside his it for the world.

“ You- Santa mierda- you can’t make t-those jokes!! Joder, you are a secret agent!!”

“ Special agent, actually” the ‘special agent’ smiled, clearly biting back his own laughter as Luis’ only grew more and more.

“That has- got to be- the worst joke you have ever made-“ Luis tried to make out a sentence inbetween his rattly coughs and sharp chills, but much to his dismay, Leon only continued.

“Damn, I guess I better step up my game then huh-“

“ Por favor no-“

“Ok, ok, how about this,”

Leon sat up on his haunches, finally taking the accursed sandwich away from Luis’ mouth.

“If you take at least a couple bites, I promise I’ll never make a joke that bad ever again”

“ Ever?” Luis croaked from his pillow, an eyebrow raised and his smile crooked. He could hardly make out Leon’s expression, but if he had to guess, it was probably one of dishonesty.

“I swear on my mother’s life I won’t”

“You don’t have a mother”

Now it was Leon’s turn to burst out into laughter; loud, uninterrupted and honest. Even through the pain, it was music to Luis’ ears.

“Just eat your damn sandwich, doll”

“ Mmmmmmonly cuz I love you cariño….”

Leon scratched the top of his head one last time and gave him a kiss on the forehead, chuckling breathily;

“I love you too.”

Luis managed to eat… most of the sandwiches Leon had made him. He’d gotten through two of them- conveniently leaving out the crust- before finally succumbing to his own need for sleep.

He was right in his theories, though; every single chew he took make his brain feel like it was being slammed against a wall, but at least the cold chills stopped- and everytime he swallowed, Leon gave a quiet, almost unintentional little ‘ good job’, from the back of his throat. Which probably shouldn’t have made Luis feel as warm as it did- but he didn’t have the strength to care. Or even begin to try and dissect why.

Sure, it felt rather childish to be fed like some kind of dying Victorian child- but there was something undeniably intimate about letting Leon just… take care of him. Even if just for a moment. With no guilt to follow suit. Something Luis hadn’t experienced in a good long while.

Would it be strange to say it reminded him of when his Abuelo used to make him tomato soup when he was a little boy all the way back in Valdelobos whenever he was sick? Maybe that was a discussion for another evening.

The longer he chewed, the more tired Luis grew; to the point where he was literally falling asleep with food in his mouth half-chew. Head slacking and eyes dropping closed, Leon had to pull his hand away from his mouth and tap his chin or give his head a little scratch as a reminder to not fall asleep with food in his mouth.

“ C’mon, dove,” he’d whisper, his voice full of quiet sympathy and affection.

“ You’ve gotta finish it. For me?”

“Hhhmmphh…”

“You’re gonna choke if you don’t swallow..”

Eventually, though, Luis had to push Leon’s hand away and silently say ‘ no more’. Thankfully his partner could read him like an open book and was curled up by his side in a matter of seconds, continuing to rub his back in comforting, repetitive motions.

Their foreheads were inches away from touching, and it was very apparent just how rattly Luis’ breath was; but Leon didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“ Yyyoour’re gnna catch mmy fluuu…”

“ I couldn’t care less,” Leon chuckled at Luis’ sleepy tone, closing the gap between them with a kiss to his flush forehead.

“ ‘Just means I get to spend more time with you”

Luis could hardly open his mouth to complain before Leon already had a hand through his hair, carding his fingers softly against his scalp.

“ Go to sleep, dove,”

He whispered,

“ You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Luis didn’t need to be told twice. And so he fell asleep in Leon’s arms faster than he ever had in his entire life.

And despite his body’s attempts, Luis had somehow gotten one of the best night's sleep he had ever had in his entire life.

[derryctor-who]

"Virtue is only virtue in extremis." DOCTOR WHO | 10.07

[falling-pages]

Coffee Break: Hawks x Reader

Hi lovelies, I’m back with considerably better mental health. I’m still taking writing a bit at a time, slowly, taking my time editing and researching to improve, but I’m finally able to produce content I love again. I’m finally recovering all the joy of writing and now I’m focusing on writing what makes me happy. Thank you for all the sweet messages and support, it means the world to me :)

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Quirkless Reader x Hero Hawks

Fluff

Warnings: None

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“Americano with almond milk for you, chai latte for me.”

You had been so focused on your report that you didn’t even notice the window opening and your winged boyfriend climbing through until he slid your favorite drink in front of you. The smell was heavenly, steaming through the paper cup bearing your local shop’s logo. Your fingers still against the keyboard as you reach for it, stretching out your cramped digits. After typing for hours, any sort of movement sent discomfort rattling up your hands.

“Thanks, Kei,” you say as he hovers behind you, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

He bent to wrap his arms and wings around you, clutching you close in your chair as you cradled your coffee to your chest. The little cocoon he had suddenly made enveloped you in warmth, cutting off your view of the computer with his beautiful red plumage. All you could see, sense, and smell was him.

He ran his lips up to your temple, the shell of your ear, the spot beneath your earlobe, giving little pecks of affection while he had you under his wings. What good were those wings, anyways, if he couldn’t use them to comfort you?

“Are you nearly done, dove?” he asked, snuggling his face into your hair. “You’ve been at this for hours. Honestly I didn’t know if you were human or one of those robots the captcha quizzes ask about.”

You chuckle, leaning back against his chest. The coffee is still extremely hot, and though your tired brain begs for it, you hold off until it cools down. Keigo gets fussy when you slurp your coffee too quickly and burn yourself. “I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Isn’t that some poem?” he asks. “Some American poet?”

“Robert Frost.” You twist your neck to look at him. “You remembered? You’re no poet.”

“But you are. And you quote a lot of them depending on the day.”

“Because they are applicable to my situation.” You turn back and move his feathers away from your computer, making a landing space for your still piping hot drink beside it. The bright white screen welcomes you back harshly, black lines of text still existing. When his red curtain shields you from it, you have a habit of forgetting it exists. Maybe that’s the point--making you forget your worries with kisses and gifts.

You try to lean forward to type again, but his arms hold you back. “Kei, thank you for the coffee, but I have to keep reading this report.”

“You’ve read it three times already tonight!” he whines. “The thing is 50 pages. I don’t know how your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”

He sends a feather to lightly touch the coozie around your coffee. Both he and the feather flinch at the contact. “At least wait until your coffee cools down,” he says. “Please? For me?”

Though the man is part bird, he can pull a very convincing puppy face. It’s true, you have gotten to the point where the lines have blurred into one massive pile of digital ink. And his plush wings and warm breath on your neck are oh so inviting.

“How did you know I’ve read it three times?” you ask softly, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“Hawks are very observant creatures,” he says. “They know when their lovebirds are tired.”

You sigh, allowing yourself to give up the ghost and slump against his collarbone. As much as you wanted to keep making revisions to the report, you knew you would force yourself into another all-nighter if you didn’t stop now. You had pulled three already this week, and Keigo had grown frustrated of going to bed alone. If you stayed up again, he would likely take matters into his own hands.

Breaks increase productivity, right?

“Okay,” you relent. “But only until my coffee cools.”

He chirps happily, sending a feather to close your laptop while he scoops you into his arms. The chirps were something you had to get used to, but once he cooed in your ear in his sleep, you couldn’t help but fall in love. He had tried so hard to hide his avain traits in the beginning of your relationship, still wary of all that the Commission had instilled in him, but with you he was free to be the man-bird hybrid his spirit longed to be--chirps, feathers, and nesting included.

You snatch your cup right before he picks you up. He brings you to the couch, where he lies down on his back and settles you against his chest, making you leave your drink on the coffee table. As you lie against him, head against his heart while his lips graze the top of your crown, his wings flutter over you and wrap in to swaddle the two of you together. Abdomen warmed by his body heat, legs tangled up in his, the throaty coos in your ear, his heartbeat slowly lulling you into peace...you knew what he was trying to do.

“I can’t sleep yet, Birdie,” you whisper, drawing a pattern with your finger on his other pec. “As much as I’d like to, this is just a little break. I can come to bed tonight if I get all my reading done.”

“You work so much,” he sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the top of your head. “I think you need to relax a bit.”

“Cuddling you is relaxing,” you say, and though your voice hitched as if to continue, you left the sentence there. He already knew how hard you, being quirkless, had to work to make anything of yourself. It was hard enough to get a minimum wage job without some sort of quirk, much less get into law school, where rich prep kids with genetically-perfect powers took all the top ranks. You might have graduated top of your commoner class, but even your best strategies and most cut-throat arguments couldn’t hold a candle to those born with sharp tongues and persuasive tones. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you could represent other quirkless clients--and, in that, maybe fight the discrimination you had grown up with.

“Lovebird.”

You turn to him, yanked out of your insecurities when you hear his soft voice utter a pet name only for you. Others might be dominating your class, but none of them were dating a certain winged hero.

“I don’t know how to make you see yourself the way I see you,” he said simply, reaching a hand through your hair. “I wish you could. God, I wish you could see how perfect you are, why I adore you so much. Why it hurts to see you pushing yourself beyond your healthy limit.”

A chord struck you. You knew your hectic lifestyle wasn’t the healthiest, but it never occurred to you that it hurt him. But, looking back, you should have known all the neglected attention and lonely nights, despite being just a room away, would affect him deeply.

He had deep abandonment issues, and he was likely reliving all of that now.

Keigo took a deep breath, running his fingers down your arm. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you. I know I can be clingy, and I’ve been trying to get better, but your schooling comes first. I don’t want to take that away from you just because I’m needy.”

“Kei,” you sigh, shifting under his wings. You turned onto your stomach, forearms on either side of his face, chest pressed against chest. He lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting his wings slightly so you could move. His eyes slowly scanned your face. “You don’t have to apologize. You never bother me.”

He smiled, tucking your closer beneath his wings. “Really?”

Despite his usual sass and arrogant tone in hero work, his voice is sincere, his eyes shining. The predator in him relaxes into a more docile state.

“Really.” You smooth back his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me. Now, I believe my coffee has cooled.”

You push back the curtain of plumage and reach for your drink, rolling off of him to sit by his side. As soon as you raise the cup to your lips and take that blessed first sip, you know something is wrong.

“You got me decaf.”

Your voice is hard, scaling wildly back from the soft words you had uttered against his chest. He giggles, covering his mouth with his hands, but it doesn’t hide the red mirth coloring his skin. 

“How could you!” You whine, bouncing up and away from him. 

“You need to sleep!” he says. “You have been up all night the last few days, and I need you to sleep.”

You sniffle, blinking quickly to produce fake tears. “You traitor.”

Keigo rises to hug you, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispers. As repulsed as you are, his hugs are too nice to refuse. “I’m only trying to take care of you.”

“I know. But next time--”

“Hmm?”

“You’re buying me regular.”

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If you enjoy what I write, please consider buying me a coffee :)

[forthehpfanboys]

Quidditch and T

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him; transmasculine reader.

Summary: Harry surprises Ron with tickets to the Quidditch World Cup after the war, after Hermione and after finding out Ron has a crush on the first professional trans masculine the Chudley Canons or the World Cup has ever seen. 

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, tiny amount of transphobia?? super long, focuses on Ron more than it should, super long and probably really bad.

Notes: Trans masculine reader again! We love to see it- No one asked for this but I liked the idea. Also, Ron has long hair because I love him and Harry is a good friend. The bestest of friends.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

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Even with the second wizarding war years behind them, everyone struggled to regain control over themselves. Loved ones were lost far too soon, strained relationships came crashing down and businesses all but shattered like glass, but that was a year or two after. Families were beginning to recover and move forward, but some struggled. It was only natural, that was why the Ministry decided to bring at least a tiny bit of normality back to everyone's life with the Quidditch World Cup. They thought it would bring some light in the barely lit times everyone lived in.

While life for some was morphing back to a semi stable state, times were transitioning to a new era. Of course, no one batted an eye or fought against her when the Hermione Jean Granger demanded rights for wizards, witches and sorcerers who were, for lack of a better word, different. Not after everything she’d done for the world with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and especially not after S.P.E.W.  The world really was shifting for the better.

She created two acts for equality. If house elves can have it, why can’t magical humans who just- feel different. Hermione called it S.P.L.A.T.E.R, also known as Sorcerers Lover Protection Against The Everyday Routine, and it was meant to protect wizards and witches who desire relationships with the same sex against discrimination. The talented witch went on to create a similar movement against portraying gender and identity; The Sorcerer’s Typical Identity or Gender May Alter Shield, better known as S.T.I.G.M.A.S. Both were very welcomed by the public, which happened a good year before the game would be returning, and that led to you gaining your dream job.

You were able to join the Chudley Cannons, your dream team despite their reputation. You were naturally talented on a broom and weren’t afraid to pull some risky stunts to get the golden snitch, plus it fueled your ego to hear the crowd gasp, go silent then cheer loud enough to be heard from Mars. The team and their fans didn’t care that you were the only trans masculine player, in fact, they loved you! The team was very proud to have you be their seeker and it was even better when the Cannons got into the World Cup. You basically carried the team, and they fucking knew it.

Your face made the front page almost weekly, quoting comments from your games and showing off your merchandise like it was no big deal. While you caught the attention of many wizards, witches and magical humans in between, there was one who was absolutely fascinated, maybe borderline obsessed, with you. You somehow stuck in his head, causing him to repaint his room in his shared flat bright orange just like his childhood bedroom. The ex-auror even went as far as getting your newly printed poster. He would glance at it when he was writing letters to his mother, but then would spend a good few solid minutes staring at it, daydreaming about meeting  you and lose track of time. Life got a little harder with the moving poster in his room. Of course you had no idea the famous Ron Weasley was a die-hard fan of yours.

The youngest Weasley son ended up being the first out of three up everyday just to read the newest info about (Y/n) ‘Point Breaker’ (L/n) and the rest of the team. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew enough about you to be considered a borderline stalker and couldn’t help but spew facts about you to his twin brothers. Those very twins would tease him about his newly found crush but were secrealty very happy that he was getting over his heart break.

Ron and Hermione, more Hermione, had decided splitting and remaining friends was better for them, leading to the poor bloke locked in the spare room of his older brother's flat for a solid week. They told everyone it was mutual, but it was clear to Fred, George and Harry that it was most definitely not a decision that they were both fond of. Harry could still remember the frantic howler he got from Fred and George saying their little brother all but stopped functioning as a human.

He only started eating and showering once he heard the team was up and running again. He figured that was why Harry showed up to the flat one afternoon with tickets to the sold out game. When Ron asked his best mate how he got them, he just smiled and said something about knowing people and favors being exchanged. The ticket was more like a bandage encased in clear plastic and stuck to a lanyard, which is what Ron was fiddling with the day of the game when his best friend suddenly appeared in the middle of the flat.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron screeched out as he steadied himself in his chair. His hand gripped at the shirt on his chest and chose to ignore the head rushing to his cheeks. “Could’ve sent me a warning!” He let out a slow sigh, trying to steady his rapid heart beat. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry laughed out. The professor had his hands in his jacket pocket, a sly grin across his face. “Come on then! Game’s gonna be starting soon!” The raven haired male all but yaned his freckle covered friend out of the chair.

“Ok! Ok, sheesh. Let me grab a jacket.” The red-head knew this was going to be a game that leaked late into the night. Both teams were itching to get the trophy and forget about their troubles- It was gonna be absolutely beautiful. 

Grabbing his coat and reaching into the pocket, Ron pulled out an elastic band and put his hair up into a messy bun quickly before tucking the jacket into his arm. He walked over to Harry, who was gazing at the photo-covered walls of the flat.

“If you want, I can take ca-” Harry was cut off by Ron grabbed his hand.

“No, it’s fine. I like it like this.” Ron shook his head back and forth causing the messy ball to swap back and forth. “Come on. You were the one rushing us.” Harry let out a simple chuckle before apperating them to the field. 

“Tadah!” Harry did a fancy little wave, gesturing to the crowded field and began to make his way down the hell, passing by the old boot. Ron looked down at it as they passed before looking back at his best friend.

“Damn, it has been far too long.” Ron sighed out. A smile broke out across his face when he saw little kids running around with paint covered faces and happy couples sharing tea outside of their tents. “Do we have a tent?” 

“Nope, won’t be needing one this time around.” Harry shoved his hands in his pants pocket.

“No ten- Blimey, Harry, this is a game! This is going to go on for hours-”

“Ron-” 

“Won’t need it my arse. Hours, Harry. Where are we going to sit? The damp ground?” Ron was flaring his hands about.

“We get to spend our time in the Minister’s Box, Ron, relax.” Harry shook his head in mock disapproval before adjusting his glasses and moving forward. 

“Minister’s Box-” Ron’s voice stuttered out.

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool? We’re gonna be in the middle of the action!” Harry waved to a child who had recognized him with a smile.

“Ministry box-” Ron was’t used to such luguries, even after working with his brothers at their shop. Harry figured he’d never get used to being spoiled like this. It made him choke back a soft snicker.

“Yes, Ronald, the Minister’s Box, now hurry up! I told them we’d get there before the game started so we can chat.” Harry grabbed the lagging boy’s wrist and proceeded to maneuver through the crowd with him. 

“How did ya score this, Harry?” Ron all but yelled over the crowd. Once Harry dragged them through the crowd and to the front doors of the stadium, he spoke up.

“Remember when we went on that assignment to stop LeStrange again? Just before her Dementors Kiss about a month before we quit?” He handed the ticketier his lanyard to check over. Ron did the same before they both entered.

“Yeah? What about it?” Ron’s blue eyes glanced across the crowded inside. Gods, it really had been a while since he’d been here. It felt normal, like he almost hadn’t lost Fred to an explosion, like Harry’s life wasn’t on the line everyday, like every day wasn’t terrifying. Ron turned his attention back to his friend when he spoke up again.

“Well just before that, I went on a loner mission. This one involved taking care of some dark witch who was claiming she could bring back the dead and threatened to bring back Voldemort and the Death Eaters, so they sent me down to check it out.” Harry led him to an elevator, where the gate opened allowing the pair to step in. There was an exhausted looking male standing in uniform, most likely a worker from the Ministry himself. “Ministers Box, kind sir. Thank you.” The gate closed with a shuttering rattle and soon they were moving upward. Green eyes turned back to blue to finish the story. “Anyway, turns out she was actually trying to resurrect the noseless twat, but instead of over time or promotion, I asked for this and the best seats in the house. Figured this would be a good gift for you.”

“Gift? Harry, bud, mate, my fuckin best friend.” Ron placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do this for me. You’ve already done your fair share of helping me. Blimey, I’m not worth this.”

The gate opened again, allowing the two ex-aurors to step out but not before tossing a few sickles to the poor man who looked bored out of his mind. Ron casted him a short wave before he was sent back down.

“You deserve more than a crummy game and a nice seat, Ronnie. You literally helped me destroy Voldemort.”

“I didn’t do that much and besides it’s not a crummy game!” Ron took his hand away from Harry's shoulder. They walked down the short hallway to the door leading to their seats, but paused just before opening it. “That’s fuckin wild, isn’t it?” Ron grumbled out. “Was she smooched by a Dementor in the end?” 

“Yup. All her research was swiped and burned. Anyone and everyone she knew was obliviated. Now enough talk about old work, let’s relax.” Harry spoke before opening the door and allowed Ron to walk in first. 

The room was bigger than Gred and Forge’s flat, Ron was sure of it. It had silvery blue walls and a huge open window in the front, showing off the screaming fans and showed the entire field which held the perfect view. He couldn’t help his eyes from darting across the fancy black leather seats and the buckets of ice holding expensive bottles of wine, flasks of firewhiskey and glass pitchers giggle water and suddenly Ron wanted to cry and simultaneously brag to Malfoy. Sure, he hadn’t seen the blonde in a year or so but it’d be nice. The red-head didn’t realise he was drifting toward the giant window until someone spoke up, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Ah! Mr. Potter! Mr. Weadley, I’m so glad you could make it!” A wizard dressed in a suit came scurrying over, his chapeign glass almost overflowing with foam.

“It’s Weasley, actually.” Harry didn't hesitate to speak up. “But of course! I was thrilled when Ron decided to come with me! I couldn’t have caught that witch without him. Anyway, where will we be seated?” Harry was using his Auror Voice™ while Ron stood there, trying to recall how on earth he helped his best friend with a case he wasn’t even on.

“I did wh-?” Ron was interrupted.

“Ah. My apologies. Of course, of course.” The man in the suit adjusted his tie before gesturing to the window in the front with his glass.. “Front row, just as you requested.” He took a sip from his glass before walking off to the seat he came from, talking to the witch next to him. 

Harry thanked the man before grabbing Ron’s wrist and bringing him over to their seats. He sat Ron at the seat right in the middle of the big opening. Harry could actually see his friends blue eyes gloss over with tears, causing Harry to chuckle into his hand.  It was so worth fighting that witch and staying in St. Mungos for a week with a concussion, broken hand and a stupid spell that nearly killed him.

“Bloody fucking hell, Harry. What did you do to get these seats?” Ron’s voice did little to hide his excitement. Harry released a chuckle over his friend's excitement, but the sound got louder when Ron literally threw his jacket haphazardly onto the seat only for it to fall to the tiled floor.

“I already told you. Don’t worry about it.” Harry took his seat as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the ice bucket on the coffee table at their feet. He examined the label before nodding his head and popping open the cork.

“Wish I had a camera. Ginny would’ve loved this.” Ron walked past the table to the window, resting his hands on the railing and leaning over, looking across the field.

“Ron, she’s a professional coach-” Harry rolled his eyes, testing the wine with a small sip. He set the dark, tall bottle down on the table with a clank.

“Fred and George then.” Ron turned back to his friend and walked over, plopping himself down in his seat with confidence. Harry snorted, almost dropped his drink all over himself. This was therapeutic; he got to spend time with his best friend without the ever looming death threat of Nose-less Snakey Man breathing down his neck. 

“Yes, I’m sure their jealous tears could flood the shop.” Harry’s voice was filled with sarcasm and it had Ron laughing too. Harry checked his watch while the giggling red-head grabbed an empty glass at the table in front of them and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey. “It’s about 5:53. Game should be starting at 6 something.” He turned to Ron, casting him a smile while he brought his glass to his lips. “Wanna talk about your newest boyfriend or should I ask him for the details myself?”

Ron almost spat out his drink, his hand coming up quickly to catch the dribbles falling off his lips. Blood rushed to his cheeks, ears and before he knew it, he was bright red. He wiped his hands on his jeans, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

“I’m sorry, my what? Harry, I’d be lucky if he gave me the time of day let alone be my boyfriend!” Ron ran his hands through his hair, his eyes cast downward into his drink. “I mean, have you seen me lately?” He gestured to himself. “I’m a bloody mess. He could do better anyway.”

“You’re not a mess, Ron, anything but. In fact, you’re probably more put together than I am. Ginny would beg to differ, but I’m sure it’s true.” Harry shook his head in disapproval before taking another sip from his glass. “Besides, you’re a good guy. You did get Mione to fall for you and you are kinda well known, aren't you? I say you got a better chance than most.” Once the niorette male finished, he turned to look at his friend who nodded his head in silent agreement before deciding to change the topic.

“How is Gin, by the way?” 

Harry answered with a long explanation that she was good, but one of her chaser’s kept giving her trouble and didn’t believe Ginny was good for the team. The Harpies would be starting their first game soon and Ron made a note to buy a ticket. The questions came around to his brothers, of course, so Ron 

“Hey! Good for them!” Harry refilled his drink once it was finished and put the glass back in the ice bucket. “And good for you.” Harry checked his watch again when it beeped out, indicating the change in hour. “Game time!” 

The room went silent as the minister walked over to the window, doing his usual speech, but no one was really listening. Ron's legs were bouncing with excitement while his eyes looked across the white, green and orange fans waving flags. Ron should’ve known it would've been the Kenmare Kestrels duking it out against the Chudleys Cannons.

The crowds were going absolutely ballistic over the Kestrels and the screaming only seemed to get louder once the Cannon’s made their appearance. He watched the players zoom past the window, felt the air rush past him and before he could control himself, Ron was back at the railing, practically leaning over. His eyes bounced around the orange and black colored players for the new seeker.

“Harry!” Ron gestured pathetically behind him. “Harry! Come here! Look-” Ron pointed across the field to the seeker who was taking circles in the middle, taking in the crowd. He couldn’t help but stare at your confident smirk as you pulled the goggles over your eyes, casting the crowd a wink. The red-head basically melted.

“Godric, your smitten, aren’t you?” Harry was leaning against the railing next to his friend, his glass still in hand. A smirk came across his lips when his friend turned red again.

“Shut it.”

“You a Cannon fan, Mr.Wealsey?” 

The two ex-aurors turned to see the man who approached them earlier coming to Ron’s free side. The man held a cocky grin and a new drink in his hand, most likely giggle water. The red-head turned back to the game once the whistle sounded.

“Yeah. Have been for years.” Ron didn’t take his eyes off the field.

“Huh, even with their sour reputation? I’m more of a Bats fan, myself. Wouldn’t count this game in favor of the Chudley’s though, new seeker and all.” The man scoffed before sipping his drink. “Good seekers are hard to find. Hogwarts was lucky to have you though, Mr. Potter. Should’ve played Quidditch professionally, if you ask me.”

The two males shared a look with each other and came to the conclusion it’d be better to not fight the man on his clearly biased opinion and clear ass kissing. The pair gazed on, ignoring the crowd forming behind them the longer the game went on. Ron almost shoved his friend over when the announcer yelled you spotted the snitch. Ron blinked and you were standing on your broom, balancing perfectly, leaned over, golden snitch just a few inches from your fingertips.

“He’s a risky bloke, isn’t he?” Harry spoke up, hands going to his chaotic locks. “Gdoric, he’s gonna fall!” He squealed out when your foot shifted just a little too far on the broom.

“He’s bonkers.” Sir Pompous sneered out over his fancy drink, causing Ron to audible groan. 

“Sod off, will you?” Ron was so fucking sick of this man. “Stop bein’ pissy he has more balls than you and he was born without them.” He shot the suited wizard a glare before turning back to the game.  He let out a cheer when you finally grasped the snitch, plopping yourself down on the broom. The freckled male turned to Sir Pompous and smirked. “So.. Wouldn’t put this game in their favor, huh?”

The wizard turned on his heel, grumbling what the two friends assumed to be insults as he walked shamefully to his seat. Harry and Ron clinked glasses, giggling like school girls as they took a victory shot. They sat back in their seats, discussing games and just over all basking in the win. 

“Godric, I could get used to living like this.” Ron sat back, spreading his legs and just feeling confident. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I can’t afford to do this all the time, Ron.”

“I can dream, can’t I?” Ron didn’t blink twice when the door to the ministers box opened or when two voices spoke up. He was busy relaxing.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Coach Dorkins! The Chudley’s have always been my favorite-” The same kiss ass from earlier, spewing the same pompous bullshit as earlier. Ron was gonna fake a gag, but he hesitated. Coach Dorkins? Coach of the- of his favorite team? 

“Ah, well, thank you, but I’m just here to drop off Point Breaker.” As your coach went on with his arm now wrapped around you. Ron whipped around, his jaw was dropping to the floor. “Got a favor to fill in for an old friend. Ah, there he is! Potter!”

“Nice to see you again.” Harry stood up and shook hands with the coach. Ron’s blue eyes bounced between his old friend, his favorite coach and his favorite player. What the fuck was going on? Ron shrunk into his seat when you glanced over. He was acutely aware of his messy outfit and hair and- did he brush his teeth? “Ah! I should introduce you to my good friend, Ronald Weasley-” Harry waved over to his friend, a smile on his face. Ron stood up as well, but almost fell into his chair when he saw you shaking hands with his old friend and suddenly everyone was turning to him.

“Uh-hi-” When did his voice get all high pitched and creaky again. He cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his jeans before shaking hands with the coach. “Sorry, big fan.” 

Dorkins shook his head, saying how he understood between deep chuckles. The male then turned to you, who was standing by his side. He introduced you to the red-head while you held a similar, nervous smile on your face. You held your hand out as you spoke up finally. 

“I know all about you, Mr. Weasley. Well, no not- Wait, not everything like.. Like everything everything, like um- I.. well- Ok, let me start again.” You cleared your throat, shaking the ex-aurors hand. “Hi, I’m (Y/n). I’m a fan, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron was just kinda shaking your hand, confusion filled in his brain. He was just running over your rambling and was so confused. 

“You’re a fan of me?”

“The famous auror? Of course!” You were grinning now and he found himself just staring at you. The two of you missed how Potter and Dorkins were chuckling about star struck fans and wondered somewhere else in the room.

“You played great today-” Ron almost blurted out, his voice turning prepubescent again.

“Thank you! You don’t think it was too much? Too flashy?” 

“No, no, I’d say it has the perfect amount of flash.” Ron shot you a lopsided smile. The smile allowed you to relax some, the star struck tension between the two of you almost dispersing completely as you joked back and forth. You soon found yourself sitting in Harry's abandoned seat, chatting away like you had been friends since your school years. 

“So then- then- hold on, stop laughing-Haha! No, shh! We stole my dad's car just to save him! My brothers didn’t even try to talk me out of it! The only thing my older brother said was “yeah, get the car. We’re gonna find out if it’s considered kidnapping if we’re children"! Mum really chewed us out when we got back that mornin’!” Ron finished his 7th story that night while you were enjoying a nice glass of cold water. You couldn’t get over his terrible impressions of his brothers. More than a few times his stories led to you almost choking on your drink or just letting out a loud laugh.

You told him some stories about your life at home too and only got encouraged by his snickering behind his own drink. You were so open with him, telling him stories of quidditch practice and the strange gifts you got from fans, his favorite being a bra with your face hand painted on it. 

More time passed by as you chatted, finally coming around to just playing 20 questions just day to day stuff. Now, it was your turn to ask a question and honestly, the game shouldn’t even be called 20 questions, it was more like 500 questions.

“Ok. Ok. Is it true that you had a thing for Krum?” You grinned when his cheeks turned red. “I heard from a chaser that you were here when we got on the field and our  keeper was willing to bet his life on this rumor that you had a fling with Krum.” 

“N-no, no fling! Just uh- more of a sexual awakening, if you will.” Ron snorted out, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes turned away from yours for the first time that night, casting his gaze out across the empty field.

“Ooh! What is the great Ron Weasley’s sexual preference?” You leaned forward, your grin turning to a teasing smirk. You put a hand on his shoulder when he started stuttering over his words. “Come on! You can tell me! I don’t spill secrets.”

“Would hot quidditch players be an acceptable answer?” Ron was playing with a spare ponytail holder on his wrist now, his face turning redder.

“I’d say so.” You smiled, setting down your water glass. 

“What about you?”

“What?”

“I told you mine. It’s only fair, Point Breaker. Spill it.” It was Ron’s turn to get cocky as you blushed. 

“May or may not be hot ex-aruros, but who’s keeping track.” You were not going to admit you’d been fanboying over the red-head since his face came across the Daily Profit. While he knew a lot about your game stats and quotes, you knew about the dark wizards he fought against, how he helped Granger and Potter and decided fighting was too much.

“Oh really?”

“I said maybe. Don’t get cocky. Besides, I could mean Harry-”

“I have a feeling you don’t mean him.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“How about a date?” Ron leaned back in his chair, gauging your reaction. He mentally sighed when you didn’t appear grossed out or scared.

“Hmm, let me think. “ You pretended to count stuff on your fingers before smiling at the red-head. “Leaky Cauldron?”

“Sure! Tuesday?”

“I’m free after 6.”

“Done.”

[pixieungerstories]

Quarantine -3

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on.  I stared at the ceiling.  I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster.  Some other living thing in the house.  I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,”  I muttered to myself.  Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream.  “Fuck it.”  I got undressed and crawled under the covers.  I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over.  Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?”  I wasn’t really expecting an answer.  “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can.  I don’t want to.  I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded.  “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake.  “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut.  Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge.  “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door.  I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called.  After that they were all looking at me.  

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving.  I needed to get out of here.  I needed a smoke.  I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god.  I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am!  Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained.  “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month.  I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you.  Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.  

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress.  I should go in and at least get my robe.  It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them.  Prison wouldn’t have Nick.  Maybe I just needed a hospital.  No.  That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off.  He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped.  “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now.  You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently.  “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen.  Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee.  When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.  This is temporary.  You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall.  It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed.  I looked at it.   Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great.  Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,”  I mused.   “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day.  In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down.  They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom.  The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident.  I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal.  Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day.  No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard.  I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking.  It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it.  My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen.  I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.  

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around.  Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part.  You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy.  “Yeah.  There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around.  It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning.    I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning.  Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere.  I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth.  I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink.  Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck.  I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear.  “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly.  “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick.  Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week!  It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar.  It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything.  When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing.  I told myself it didn’t mean anything.  Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information.  I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to.  What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette.  Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then.  This was ridiculous!  Shadow monsters didn’t … do that!  They didn’t … exist.  I was just …  this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass.  I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp.  Now I was cold and damp instead.  Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles.  ‘Fine.  Whatever.  Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it.  I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France.  But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

  I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face.  “Do you like what he picked out?”  She seemed a little taken aback by the question.  “Yes?  It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install.  It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week.  I’m not exactly over run with work right now.”  She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know.  I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah.  I understand that.  I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that.   The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,”  Nancy pointed out.

“Ok.  Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling.  “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this?  You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze.  “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress.   My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg.  As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished.  I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash.  That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one.  “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted.  “I liked watching you enjoy yourself.  Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy.  Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied.  Then he added, “For either of us.  And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?”  he just sounded curious.  The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that.  I closed my eyes and he stroked my face.  “Let me watch,” he purred.  “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open.  “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure.  I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand.  And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian?  Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time.  And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked.   “I’m too damn tired!”  I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out.  “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him.   It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand.  “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one.  And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time.  That’s why I asked you not to.  But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to.  This is about trust, Nick.  I don’t trust you.  I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here.  You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death.  You could smother me with my pillow.  Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.”  I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas.  “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.”  He let go of my hand.  I turned on the light and looked around the empty house.  “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.”  It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing.  “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep.  I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch.  “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight.  I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip.  It didn’t always do that.  “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat.  He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again.  It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then.  At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.  

I wondered how you forge wine.

[youngclaire]

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

[pjoseries]

Congrats for reaching 600 followers! ✨ Quote: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren't supposed to see that.” Percabeth, please? Thank you!

✨ “Am I your lockscreen?” / “You weren't supposed to see that.” (ao3 link)

(***no gods au)

══════════════════

Annabeth scuffs her battered shoe on the floor, avoiding eye contact, and stares at the hole in Percy’s sleep shirt. Gray. It’s her favorite of his. It’s weird to think he has the same wardrobe after all these years. She can even remember how it felt if she thinks hard enough, all threadbare and worn on her skin. She always used to borrow it when she slept over. She clears her throat and her hand tightens its grip on her luggage. 

She makes the mistake of glancing upwards, her eyes catching his, and her free hand trembles slightly. She shoves her fist into her coat pocket, glad that winter still settled in around them. She hopes that he doesn’t notice her movement and almost sighs in relief when his eyes remain steadfast on hers, never flickering, never wavering. 

She takes in the sight of him and the pain burns at the center of her chest. He looks good. His hair is a little longer, making it curl more at the ends. There’s the barest hint of scruff tickling at his jaw and it surprises her. It shouldn’t, but she hasn’t seen him since they graduated high school and they’ve both graduated college months earlier. But she’s immortalized seventeen year old Percy in her mind: bright-eyed and smiling and beautiful. He’s just as handsome, maybe more now if that’s even possible, and it’s a wonder that she ever let him go. 

But he isn’t exactly hers to miss. 

She says, her voice deceptively even, “Thanks for doing this.”

“I’m not letting you sleep out on the streets, Annabeth.” Percy yawns widely and gestures her to come inside. A pang of guilt rattled around her throat, knowing she woke him up at an ungodly hour, years after they'd last spoken to each other. But Percy is Percy and she always knows she can count on him, even as years have passed. Percy’s loyalty is the most precious thing she’s ever earned. It’s a simple truth in the world that he will do anything for those he calls his friends and Annabeth is just lucky enough to still be his. 

Percy moves forward and takes the luggage from her hand and pulls it inside. The warmth of his body contrasts nicely against the brisk, late night wind and she tries with all her strength not to lean into him. 

As she closes the door, Percy’s already halfway up the stairs towards his room. She blanches and hurriedly toes off her shoes before padding up the stairs after him. “I was gonna take your couch, Perce. It’s not a big deal.”

Percy snorts. “The couch will break your back if you sleep on it for more than a night. Besides, you’re here for a few days. You can take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Annabeth’s fingers catch on his arm and he turns, eyebrows raised. “You just said that the couch will break my back. You are not sleeping there. I literally barged into your apartment at three in the morning. I feel like that’s enough reason for me to sleep there.”

“Nope,” he says, grinning at her. He huffs out a laugh and he didn’t even sound winded hauling her bag up. He opens the door to his room and places her luggage near the closet. “You’re my guest.”

“Unwanted guest,” she corrects. 

He ruffles his hair and it’s so familiar, it makes her miss him that much more. “Who said you’re unwanted.”

“Anyone in their right mind.”

“Annabeth, you could never be unwanted to me,” Percy says softly. She feels her face heat up and she focuses on getting her coat off instead of looking at him. She throws it on the chair and pushes her sleeves up to her elbows. 

She mutters, “Well… thank you.”

“No problem.” 

He turns to go back downstairs when she finally remembers where he intends to sleep. “Wait, you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Where do you expect me to sleep, Chase?” He has this smug look on his face like he knows there’s no other option available. 

“With me,” she says, stubborn as a bull. Even though she knows what it sounds like. 

“Oh, really?” he teases. 

She rolls her eyes. “Not like that. We’re both adults, we can sleep in the same bed.”

Percy looks at her for a hard second and shrugs. “As long as you’re fine, I’m good with it.”

“Then it’s settled.” Something in her shoulders loosen and she breathes out evenly. 

Percy nods and heads over to the right side of the bed where his phone laid and sat down. He has a full bed which is usually a decent amount of space for one person, but she’s going to have to avoid moving around if she doesn’t want to intrude on his space. It’s weird, honestly. She doesn’t regret saying they should share, but she’s acting like she hasn’t seen Percy for a week, not years. 

She grabs her pajamas—which are just an old, oversized camp shirt and a pair of ratty plaid bottoms that Annabeth’s pretty sure was Percy’s once upon a time—and heads to the bathroom she saw on her way to his room. She quickly shoves her clothes and balls up her old ones and walks back to Percy’s room. 

He’s sitting up against his headboard, his blanket already covering his legs, and he’s tapping something on his phone. She throws her clothes into the open luggage and slides in next to him. But before Percy can turn off his phone, she glances at his phone and gapes. 

“Am I your lock screen?” she asks. 

Percy fumbles with his hand and drops the phone. It lands face-down, so she can’t double-check to see if she imagined it. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“No, no”—she reaches out a hand to comfort him—“it’s sweet, Percy. Really.”

Percy stays unbearably quiet. 

“I’ve missed you too,” she confesses, gripping his hand in hers. His fingers remain loose for a second before he faces his palm upwards, threading their fingers together. She smiles softly. “Sorry I left.”

“Why did you?” His voice is low, barely audible. 

She knows why he asked. Before she left New York, before she left Percy, they were both dancing around their feelings for each other. A sort of fondness rolls over her at the memories. It didn’t seem that long ago when she’d sleep over at his place and they stayed up all night talking about everything and nothing, or when they’d both linger too long when they hugged to be anything other than platonic, or when they both let their affection for each other shine and everyone around them always mistook them for a couple. 

But she got scared and despite knowing Percy for years, she couldn’t help but feel like he was too good to have, that if she took it further—if she asked for more that her luck with him would disappear. So she left. Annabeth went to college across the country and let their interactions fade. She blamed it on college being hell, but she knew what she was doing. All she can say is that she hates that she hurt him. 

“I…” she starts, but falters. “I was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“You.” 

Percy stops breathing and she can feel him about to pull away. She grips his hand tighter, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. 

“Not like that. I could never be scared of you, Perce. I’ve known you since you were twelve when you wore cargo pants and I was taller than you.”

“Then what.” Something in his voice cracks. His head tilts downwards, blinking away his own tears. 

Her heart breaks at the sight. “You’re the only good thing in my life and I didn’t want to ruin that. But I did it anyway and I’m so sorry. I was terrified of being with you because if I lost you…”

“You’d never lose me,” he says vehemently and he turns to face her. His eyes are dark in the dim lighting and he lets go of her hand to cup her cheek. “You’re my best friend and you’ll always be my best friend even if you stop talking to me. I’ll always be there for you.”

“I know,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. Percy’s thumb wipes them away with gentle strokes. “I miss you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Percy leans in and presses his forehead against hers. 

“I can tell,” she says. “I’m your lock screen, remember?”

Percy huffs out a laugh and hesitates for a moment before he presses his lips against her cheek. “Let’s sleep, okay? It’s been a long day.”

Annabeth nods and they both slide down underneath the covers. She turns on her side while Percy faces the ceiling. Her right hand rests lightly on his chest and he holds her palm in his left. She’s tired enough that just laying down makes her eyes flutter shut. She murmurs, “Goodnight, Percy.”

“G’night,” he whispers.

[mason-knight-retired]

Ethan cracks one eye open just in time to see Mason pulling on his clothes.

“Where are you going at this ungodly hour?”

He reaches out, planning to swipe his hand over a curve of bare flesh before it disappears behind a tight black workout suit but Mason steps too nimbly out of his reach.

“It’s three in the afternoon. We’ve been asleep most of the day.”

“Wasn’t that much sleeping, as I recall.”

Mason pauses to throw a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “No, that much is true.”

He watches Mason dress, the other man’s movements confident and comfortable in a way they haven’t been for a long time. Muscles ripple across his back as he pulls on the top part of the suit and Ethan refuses to acknowledge the newly formed scars that paint puckered red lines across Mason’s reinforced skin. He has already spent hours mapping them with his fingers and mouth and in spite of them, Mason looks strong. Confident and comfortable and a far cry from the tired, battered shell dragged halfway across the galaxy following his escape from Omega.

Perhaps, Ethan considers grudgingly – very grudgingly - those alliance scientists weren’t entirely useless after all.

He inches his palm over the sheets towards Mason, contemplating how he’d much prefer to peel the suit back away from Mason’s skin than see him leave. Mason had been warm and responsive under Ethan’s hands earlier, and Ethan wants to do it all over again.

He props himself up on one elbow. “You should come back to bed.”

Mason’s hands pause for a moment then he shakes his head. “Can’t. Marie’s waiting.” Mason pulls on his shoes. “We’re going to go for a run and I need to shake off the cobwebs.”

“There are better ways.”

Mason looks over. “You could come with us, you know.”

Ethan wrinkles his nose delicately. A run seems pointless to him. Where were they running to anyway, on a space station in the middle of space? Ridiculous. Besides, there was no love lost between the commander and himself. He’d sooner spend his time with a chatty volus. At least they might have something useful to offer him.

“This skin wasn’t made to sweat.”

“Says the phoenix,” Mason laughs then and it transforms his face into something beautiful. “Alright, suit yourself.”

“I always do,” Ethan murmurs as Mason finishes dressing. He’s on his way to the door before he stops and turns back, crawling across the mattress briefly to lean down to press a parting kiss to Ethan’s mouth that tastes faintly of mint. Mason draws back and his throat bobs in a rough swallow, as though he’s embarrassed at his domestic show of affection and he’s about to pull away before Ethan captures him, curling his fingers around the back of Mason’s neck to hold him in place as he kisses him back.

Ethan doesn’t stop to dwell on why.

--

Mason finds Marie waiting for him under a tree by in the Presidium commons.

“Hey, phoenix,” she grins as she leans up to give him a hug. He returns it easily.

“Hey yourself, alliance.”

She taps her wrist and raises her eyebrow. “You kept me waiting long enough.”

Mason clears his throat roughly as he glances away. He doesn’t let himself think about why he was late. “Sorry, we’re a bit looser on schedules than what you’re used to. Afternoon run, though? Still can’t get yourself out of bed before midday, huh?”

“Nope,” she grins apologetically and throws her arms up in a stretch above her head. Her cropped top rides up, baring the smooth skin of her midriff. Even after all these years, Marie is as fit and as gorgeous as ever. Time has been good to her. “So, are you ready for this?”

He grins and bounces lightly on the balls of his feet. He’s warmed up already and ready to put Marie through her paces. “Yep. We’ll start up here in the presidium and make our way to the wards.”

“That’s a long way,” she frowns.

“What’s the matter, Miller,” he taunts lightly. “Don’t think you can handle it?”

“Please,” she scoffs and hip checks him with a roll of her eyes and all of a sudden, they’re fifteen again with the sunlight streaming over their shoulders on the school track. “I’m more concerned about you. All those Cerberus parts rattling around. Wouldn’t want anything to come loose after we just got you all fixed up.”

Mason snickers at that. “Let’s go.”

--

It feels like they run for days but eventually Mason has to remind himself that Marie doesn’t have the same augmentations he does and he cuts it somewhere near Apollo’s Cafe. Marie has kept pace with him admirably but after a few laps of the Presidium tracks, he can see she’s started to tire.

It felt good though. It felt good to run and fall into the rhythm of his feet against the paths under the Citadel’s artificial sky. It wasn’t the same as Sol’s sunlight and they had to dodge and weave through the population milling about, but it was still pretty damn good.

Not for the first time, Mason finds himself grateful for Marie’s tenacity in pulling together a team to help him. Him, and whatever was left of Project Phoenix that were still human.

“Zeus isn’t going to get pissy at me for monopolizing your time, is he?” Mason asks later, long after they’ve slowed to a walk and grabbed something to drink. It’s been a few hours now and the night tones of the artificial sky were starting to leak through, creating a twilight that had them sitting together at the edge of the lake to watch the changes.  

Marie rolls her eyes. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure? You know how he gets. He knows I’ve seen you naked, right?”

Marie blinks then lets out a peel of laughter. She tries to slap his shoulder but he leans out of her reach. “But the question is, do you even remember?”

Mason taps the side of his head. “Better now,” he grins but the smile slips after a moment. “I have you to thank for that, Rie. If you hadn’t brought together that lab…”

Surprisingly, Marie flushes slightly and glances away. “I’d do anything for you boys,” she says softly. “Well, almost anything. But you are looking better. Better than when I first found you, anyway. I never asked… Does this mean… your memories? Do you have them back?”

“Clearer, although there’s still parts missing. Ethan says I should be grateful, there’s three years of hell there that’s better off staying repressed.”

“But you remember everything else?”

“Most of it. I think.”

“So you remember telling my Nonna to kiss your ass?”

“I what?”

“Yes. That first night I brought you home after we started dating.”

He cycles back through his memories but it comes up blank. “No…. wait, are you testing me? That didn’t happen.”

“Mmmhm, it did.”

“Nope. I don’t believe it. I would never say that.”

“You did,” she insists. “You looked her right in the eye and said bacia il mio culo peloso, Nonna.”

“I did? Wow, what an asshole.”

She laughs, leaning in against him. “Michael pranked you. You thought you were thanking her for the food.”

Mason’s heart pangs roughly in his chest as he tries to remember. Michael, Marie’s younger brother, had been cheeky and bright and while Mason doesn’t remember much but a wide smile and the same brown eyes that he shared with Marie, he remembers the warmth and affection he had for him.

“I’m sorry, you know. About what happened. I don’t think I ever said that before. I might not remember everything, but I remember I loved him.”

Marie doesn’t really answer but she loops her arm through his and tucks in against him. She’s warm as the sky dims and the breeze licks away their sweat but their silence is comfortable. He thinks he might even catch the scent of apples in the air.  

“We have to make this a regular thing,” she says after a few long moments. “Workout, run, eat… debrief about who’s boyfriend is hotter? Definitely mine by the way.”

Mason wrinkles his nose at that. Nico was passable, if you liked the bulky, broody sort with bad attitudes. “In your dreams, Miller.”

She pounces at that. “Ha! So you admit it! He is your boyfriend! Mads was right!”

“Ajax?” Mason scoffs. “Ah, no. It’s not-“

“Bullshit, Mase. God, the way Maddy tells it, you two have been married for years.”

“No… It’s not… It’s not like that.”

“You need to lock that down.”

Mason lifts an eyebrow. “The fastest way to guarantee Sabre never looks twice at me again would be to-“ Mason wiggles his fingers as air quotes, “’lock that down’… So no, not doing that. What the hell are you listening to Ajax for anyway?”

Marie gives him a look like it should be obvious and he’s a few tools short of a tool shed. “Uh, best friend.”

Mason places a hand on his heart, wounded. “I thought I was your best friend?”

She smiles sweetly and pats his cheek. “Mase, you are my oldest friend.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “So suck on that, Maddy.”

She laughs again and bumps him with her shoulder. “Seriously though, Mase. Do us all a favor and lock that down with Sinclair. Or not.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“You could do better you know. Maybe I should introduce you to someone new. Maybe Harris has a friend-“

“I will pull you down by your hair, Miller,” he threatens.

“Please, I could run rings around you,” and she shoves at him for good measure only this time, his body doesn’t budge. She rolls her eyes and he snickers smugly.

“Damn phoenix.”

“Come on, Commander. Let’s go try this fancy coffee equivalent you’re been harping on about before Zeus shows up and yells at me for stealing his girlfriend.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” but Marie’s expression turns playfully unsure. “I think. He probably would enjoy the chance to yell at you though.”

Mason pulls a face as he climbs to his feet. He sticks a hand out to help her up but she slaps it away with a laugh. “I don’t need your help.”

“Sure you don’t. So where are we going?”

“There’s this amazing place down in the wards Maddy found…”

--

Mason is eying the brightly colored concoction that Marie swears black and blue is maple flavored ice cream coffee suspiciously as they’re strolling through the market area of the wards when the fight breaks out.

Marie stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide.

“….Isaac?!”

[xmagicxshopx]

Rush Hour Pt 1

Genre: Action Adventure, Angst, Romance, Comedy Rating: PG-13 - M Warnings: drug trafficking, human trafficking, language, smut (in pt 2) Pairing: officer!jungkook x reader , officer!taehyung x oc (Nari) Notes: AU fic. Not idol!bts. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: Thank all the crime shows my parents watch for this. XD Not to mention I love the Rush Hour movies. @u@

Tagging: @grxnadxs​

Summary: You and your best friend are being framed for a crime you didn’t commit and there’s only two people who believe you. Agent Inspector Jeon of the Busan Police Department and Detective Kim of the Daegu Police Department. Can they rescue you before it’s too late?

MASTERLIST

Organized Crime.

South Korea’s biggest enemy.

Financial fraud, drug trafficking, weapons smuggling, human trafficking. It was all because of organized crime and it made the police departments absolutely sick. A beast they couldn’t contain, let alone kill. Drugs were their biggest problem, really. And what drugs couldn’t produce in real cash flow, fake won made up for it. Sickening. Absolutely sickening.

“Detective Kim---Agent Inspector Jeon has arrived.”

Having been standing there watching the city with his steaming mug of hot chocolate because he’s not a coffee drinker, he simply turned his head to the officer-in-training and smiled a friendly smile before nodding his head and saying casually,

“Let the asshole in.”

“Hey, I heard that, asshat!”

Detective Kim, more commonly known as Kim Taehyung, just laughed as he set his mug down to greet one of his best friends and favorite partners in law enforcement. Walking through the door was one chuckling Jeon Jungkook, otherwise known as Agent Inspector Jeon. After performing their super secret handshake, the both of them took a seat in which Jeon sighed heavily.

“They briefed me on the situation. One of them is from Busan so they sent me over. It’s a pretty ugly case. This organization seems to have quite the record.”

“No kidding. Drug and human trafficking?? Disgusting. Makes me sick.”

Jungkook watched his older bestie tossing the folder full of files onto his desk and he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Kim Taehyung was a good man. An honest and traditional man. Someone who one day wanted to settle down and have a family. A wife and kids. He cherished his fellow human beings so human trafficking always hit harder for him than anything else.

“Hey. We’ll catch them, hyung. They’re going to slip up and that’s when they’ll hang themselves with their own rope. In fact, it sounds like they might already have. It says they’re on the run. Armed and dangerous. But we’re more dangerous. Besides....”

Kim looked away from the window once more to see what his younger friend might be trying to say. The sight before him made the male snort and shake his blonde head in amusement. Jeon Jungkook had since stood up from his seat and was standing in a fighting position while saying with confidence that only he could pull off,

“I’ve been taking boxing lessons. These dirt bags won’t see me coming.”

“Whatever you say, Jeon. Whatever you say.”

Meanwhile, on a train heading out of Daegu.....

“I’m scared....”

You could hardly hear your best friend and honestly you couldn’t blame her. Both of your voices were hoarse from the lack of hydration. The first thing you’d do once getting to the next town would be trying to buy some bottles of water. Your tongue felt like sandpaper. Trying your best to comfort the female next to you, you simply reeled her in and let her head rest on your shoulder.

Criminals.

In the eye of the public, that’s what you were.

The world knew you both as criminals but the world couldn’t be farther from the truth. You two were just a pair of best friends who had found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Simple on paper but oh-so complicated in all actuality. With an internal sigh, you gently stroked your best friend’s raven locks as you spoke up softly,

“It’s going to be okay, Nari. I’m going to take care of us. Just stick with me and everything will be fine.”

Nari, your best friend of four years, nodded gently against your shoulder as she shifted a little closer in the bus seat the two of you were sharing. Honestly, the two of you weren’t used to the silence of the bus. The life you both had been living for the last four months was anything but silent. Guns, violence, moving from home to home. It was all so chaotic.

Human trafficking.

You were no longer considered a person. No. You and your best friend had become objects to be used by scum bags who called themselves men. To be used as they saw fit. Whether it be as a cover-up for a smuggling operation or to release sexual frustration, you were no longer considered a human being. It may have only been for four months, but it’s been the longest four months of your lives.

“Once we get off the bus, I’ll get us a hotel room, okay? I managed to knock the one guy out and grab his wallet. Let’s just hope this won is legit and not fake. Otherwise we’re screwed.”

You didn’t want to scare Nari, but you had to be realistic too. The situation was not pretty but you were going to do your very best to make this as easy for her as possible. Your best friend was a soft and sensitive soul so naturally this was extremely hard on her. Not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally. The physical scars would heal, but the mental and emotional? That was a whole other ballgame.

“Let’s get off here. Surely there’s a hotel or motel near by. If not, we can always ask around.”

Back at the Daegu Police Department....

“Okay. So your prime suspects are two females, both in their 20s and South Korean natives. Squeaky clean criminal records. Not even a parking violation.”

Both Taehyung and Jungkook found themselves sporting identical expressions of confusion as their eyebrows knitted together. While the younger of the two was staring at the huge TV screen that had the suspects’ passport photos on display, Taehyung was looking through each of their files and couldn’t believe his eyes.

“The one was going to school to be a kindergarten teacher with a minor in journalism while the other has an online degree in Police Science and has taken several self-defense classes.”

While the blonde detective was rattling off more information from the files, Min Yoongi who was Daegu’s Intelligence Analyst was bringing up those very same records up on the screen for Jungkook to look over as well. Dang. It was hard to believe these girls were their prime suspects.

“The files go on to say the university student, Nari, was currently shadowing a kindergarten class when she went missing four months ago. The Police Science graduate was currently working at a cafe in Busan when she too went missing four months ago.”

“So they were together when they went missing?”

Just as Yoongi and Taehyung were about to wager a guess to the younger’s question, a new voice entered the room as a young man that went by the name of Jung Hoseok strolled in. Hoseok, or otherwise known as Hobi, was a Forensic Psychologist and had been brought it to try and figure out why two girls with absolutely no prior criminal records would be suspects in one of South Korea’s largest drug trafficking ring.

“Possibly. According to their records, they live at the same address. An apartment building on the shadier side of town. Judging from their day jobs, I would say it was all they could afford. The Busan girl commutes.”

Jungkook turned around to look at the older males with his hands stuffed in his pockets, expression pensive as he stood there in deep thought before asking out loud,

“So maybe they did it for the money?”

With a casual shrug, Hoseok looked to the TV screen where the records and photos were on display. It just didn’t add up to him. He had dealt with a lot of cases and in all his years of forensic psychology, he had never seen anything quite like this. But then again.....

“It’s not uncommon for financial stress to drive a person to commit crime. For now, they’re probably going to be your only suspects. They were seen on the storefront’s security footage with the bag as they fled the scene. Looks like it was a deal gone South.”

It was then that Yoongi pressed a button on his tablet and brought up the exact footage Hobi was referring to. The four young men watched as the two female suspects approached two men who were twice their size. Again. It didn’t make sense to Hobi. This was a professional ring. Why would a ring leader who was supposedly one of the smartest men in crime......be sending in two puny girls in their 20s to perform a hand-off???

“Looks like the one put her self defense lessons to good use. But she’s lucky neither one of them got shot.”

While Yoongi spoke in his usual calm tone, the rest of the boys watched on as the footage soon revealed the spat that took place. One man was knocked out and Taehyung could see one of the girls swiping his wallet. The last few seconds of the recording was of the girls running off while leaving the bag behind. The bag was then taken by the two men who ran in the opposite direction. Dang.

“Okay, Hobi hyung. Put your brain to work. Why would those girls try to fight when they were just going to let them have the drugs anyway? What’s the purpose here? The only crimes they committed were assault and stealing a dirt bag’s wallet.”

The psychologist took a moment to consider the young inspector’s questions. Yes. What was the purpose of the whole transaction??? All the girls got away with was a wallet and who knows if it had any actual won in it. Even if it did, the odds of the won being legit were slim to none. Still......it wasn’t adding up......there was more to this story here. That’s for sure. It was then that Taehyung spoke up as he said in an authoritative tone,

“Okay. Jeon---call in Jimin from your guys’ Busan department and have him interview the cafe manager and the staff. You and I are gonna take a trip to the kindergarten class Nari was shadowing and see if the teacher might have any insight. Maybe they got close while working together.”

He then turned to the older males in the room and added in the same tone but with more softness and naturally more respect,

“Yoongi hyung, if you can get me any further footage, maybe even some traffic cams, I’d greatly appreciate it. Maybe we can track down where they ran off to. Hobi hyung, try to take a closer look at the footage we already have. Maybe you can spot something we aren’t looking at. See if you guys can enhance the video any. Get a closer look.”

With that, the four men went to work. Innocent or not, these two women needed to be found because they could be the key to bringing down the largest drug trafficking ring in South Korea.

“There’s a convenience store. Want to grab some supplies and food and then find a place to stay?”

After receiving a timid nod from Nari, you offered her a warm smile and gently tugged her along as the two of you headed into the store. There was plenty of won in the wallet you had swiped so thankfully they could afford the necessities without having to skimp. Shampoo, body wash, water, and food. Pretty simple. Well maybe some toothbrushes and paste as well. The two of you felt absolutely disgusting and probably looked just as much.

The hotel room would probably have little bottles of shampoo and body wash, but you planned to douse yourselves in both. Now that you got to thinking about it, both of your hair looked like rats nests. Comb and brush. Okay. The list was getting longer but still. You both were a little more than ready to start feeling human again. Could anyone blame you???

Once picking out the cheapest shampoo and conditioner you could find, you went to go pick up a bottle of body wash that was just as cheap. You guys didn’t need to be in a beauty pageant, just clean. After picking a brush and comb both, you gently tugged your bestie along with you to have her pick out some food.

Ever since the human trafficking started, Nari had nearly completely shut down. She became quiet and shut off. It was hard for even you to get her to speak. Like the few moments they had alone together while waiting for their next ‘owner’ to arrive and take them ‘home’. It was so heartbreaking because your best friend was once a ray of pure sunshine. A light in the darkness.

And now she had become part of the darkness.

“Okay, Ri, what sounds good for dinner tonight? I think some instant noodles are calling our name.”

You would have loved to just call room service. However, for two reasons, you didn’t go that route. One, it wasn’t essential and therefore you didn’t want to risk wasting your limited funding on it. Two, you didn’t want to give the organization or the authorities any ammo that might help either one of them track you both down. Oh how you wanted to use this guy’s credit cards. But you knew better. Credit Cards were so easy to trace back. It was safer to use the won notes.

After allowing Nari to pick out her bowls of instant noodles, you picked out some as well before buying a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. Carbs. You both needed carbs desperately. The organization and all of your ‘owners’ hadn’t exactly taken the best care of you. Apparently you didn’t need to have a pretty or healthy body to be a sex toy. Go figure. With all of your hygienic items in one basket and the food in the other, you gently tugged your bestie along so that the two of you could pay for the items and get the heck of here.

Coughing up more notes than you wanted to, everything was paid for and the two of you were soon out into the world once more. Honestly, the weather was perfect for a nightly stroll. It had been so long since you felt so.....free. Granted you were currently on the run but you’d take what you could get. Just before you had left the store, you asked the employee on the other side of the counter if there were any hotels close by. Turns out there was. Thankfully just a block away from the store.

“Come on, Ri. Let’s get a roof over our heads and some food in our bellies. You can have first dibs on the shower. It’s gonna be okay, bestie. We’re gonna be just fine.”

You could only hope you didn’t turn into a liar. Going over it all in your head, you were pretty confident that you wouldn’t be found. At least not for a few days. But your mind was already thinking of the next steps to take. Thinking and calculating. You knew better than to think you could be on the run forever. No. You just needed a bit of time before contacting the authorities and explaining the situation; hoping they’d hear you out.

“Morning, Jeon.”

“Morning, hyung. Ugh. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Just kept thinking about those girls. Makes no sense.”

It was a new day and the game plan was simple. Information gathering. After that, the pair would get together with Yoongi and Hobi to analyze the data collected. Meanwhile, Yoongi was going to try and see if he could use traffic cams to map out where exactly the two girls went. They could still be in Daegu for all they knew. Hobi’s job was to pick apart the suspects’ body language and see if there was anything he could identify that might help them figure out why the girls are even their prime suspects. That part still didn’t add up with any of them.

Okay so maybe not such a simple plan. But it was a plan all the same.

“It was a good call to wear something casual. We wouldn’t want to scare the kiddos.”

Taehyung honestly hadn’t thought about it till late last night. He too had a hard time sleeping. All he could think about was the girls. There was this nagging feeling telling him these girls were innocent. He highly doubted they were armed let alone dangerous. Speaking of, as he popped the trunk to his personal vehicle, he said casually,

“Probably ought to hide the guns too. These kids are young but you know how they pick up on every little thing that’s out of the ordinary.”

“Good point. You’re batting a thousand today, hyung. I’m gonna have to up my game if I’m going to keep up with you.”

“Just put your mad boxing skills to good use should something go south and we’ll be square.”

Chuckling softly, the two made their way into the building and showed the receptionist their badges before being escorted to the kindergarten classroom Nari had been shadowing. It was odd to be working in something other than their usual suit and tie. Jungkook could get used to working in his button up shirt and skinny jeans. The two could hear lots of giggling and it warmed Taehyung’s heart. God how badly he wanted to be a dad. But he needed to focus. This was a job. Not a field trip. He couldn’t let his feelings get involved.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. I’m Detective Kim Taehyung and this is my partner Agent Inspector Jeon Jungkook. If you have a moment, we’d like to ask you a few questions concerning the girl who was shadowing your class. She disappeared a little over four months ago. Her name is Nari. Do you remember her?”

Turns out this Nari girl was quite the ray of sunshine to be around. Naturally shy upon first meeting but once she got comfortable, she was a bit of a chatter box. Kind of cute, really. She got along great with the kids and when she had first disappeared, they immediately picked up on it and kept asking where she was. The class had even made get well cards after being told that she was simply not feeling good and needed some time off.

The whole thing silently broke Taehyung’s heart. This Nari sounded like his dream girl. Aside from the criminal part. Which still didn’t make sense. This girl enjoyed reading, writing, anime, and kids. She enjoyed several things that he too enjoyed. It was a shame to think that she possibly turned to organized crime. But for what? What was the incentive to just drop everything and turn to crime? She had such a beautiful life and it seemed like it was something she was still working on building. Why just abandon it?

“Okay, Jeon. Playtime’s over. Let’s go.”

His partner had been of little help during the questioning. However, it wasn’t entirely Jeon’s fault. The kids were insistent that he play with them. Who was a man to deny so many sets of puppy eyes??? That was how Taehyung found his younger partner currently being used as a human jungle gym. He had a kid hanging off each arm as he flexed his arm muscles to help hold them both up. A little girl was giggling and squealing in happiness as she had been placed on his shoulders, hugging his face to keep herself from falling. What a dork.

“Okay, kids. Let Mr. Jeon go so he can get back to work. And what do we say to others who play nicely with us?”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon!”

The chorus of high pitched voices was so endearing. Perhaps Jungkook was starting to see why his hyung wanted to be a father so badly. These little ones weren’t so bad. Well that was probably a result of good parenting. Not to mention it sounded like the teacher was trying to set good examples for them too. After smiling to the kids and trying to dodge their questions of whether or not they’d be seeing him again, Jungkook quickly made his exit with his partner who was smiling and shaking his head in amusement.

Kids. Go figure. It was then that both agents heard Yoongi coming in through their ear pieces. Taehyung had just been popping the trunk back open to get their guns when the Daegu native started speaking in a calm but rushed voice,

“You two better get back to the office. Hobi made a huge discovery that’s going to change this into a whole different ballgame.”

Well that didn’t sound good.

Making haste, the two drove from the school parking lot and headed straight for the station. It wasn’t often that Yoongi sounded so urgent. He was usually pretty cool, calm, and collected. That’s what made him such an awesome analyst. He was able to look at things with a clear head. It was a trait that many in the department wish they had as well. Arriving in the information room where the male worked, Taehyung said in a breathless tone,

“What you got for us, hyung?”

But it was Hoseok that spoke up in reply; his tone grave.

“Your suspects just turned into victims.”

Wait what???

Meanwhile, you were up bright and early. It was easy and yet difficult to sleep all at the same time. The exhaustion had knocked both you and Nari out the second your heads hit the pillows of your shared king sized bed. However, it seemed like you were awake every other hour. Your body screamed sleep but your mind was on full alert. It was hard to sleep peacefully when you knew danger could be around every corner. You could open your eyes and find yourself right back in the jaws of danger.

It was exhausting, really. But this was your reality for the time being. Looking away from the window, you peered over at the sleeping figure in the bed. Poor Nari. She looked so small and frail laying there in that big bed. It was comforting to see her getting some sleep. Hopefully dreamless and restful. Last night had been wonderful. Their first night where they weren’t held in some kind of captivity. No disgusting cages or dirty food and water. For the first night in four months, they were just two girls hanging out. No longer objects. But humans.

They were humans again.

Deciding it was safe to take a shower, you tiptoed your way to the bathroom and just cracked the door so that it wouldn’t let all the steam out. Gosh the shower last night had been amazing! Hot water, soap. It was wonderful! The both of you had brushed your teeth twice just for good measure too. While you allowed the water to warm up, you thought about the tasks at hand today. The plan sounded simple but it was going to be tricky regardless.

A disguise. You both needed a disguise. Just until you could get your thoughts together and a plan for when you notified the authorities. You didn’t want to just go waltzing in the Daegu Police Department with hands in the air. No. You needed a plan. You needed to be able to prove your innocence. And that was when you thought of those disgusting bracelets you had to wear. Ugh. They were the ugliest shade of orange too. It was surly a color you’d despise for the rest of your life.

“They’re what?!”

Jungkook tried to put a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder but it got roughly shrugged off. Taehyung was furious. Absolutely furious. Seeing red. That was all the male could see as he stared at Yoongi and Hoseok. The two had just informed them that the two suspects were actually being trafficked and were part of the transaction that took place on the storefront camera footage they were able to obtain.

Human trafficking. These two poor girls were being handed off along with the drugs. It all made sense now. The one using her knowledge in self defense to try and disarm and distract the punks. Swiping the wallet and yet leaving the drugs behind. It all finally added up. These girls weren’t criminals at all. There was a reason their records were so squeaky clean. They never asked for this. They were forced into it. They didn’t go missing willingly. They were kidnapped.

“It’s gonna be okay, Tae. I was able to get access to the town’s traffic cams and I think I know what city they’re in. But you gotta calm down first. The chief isn’t going to let you go into this guns blazing and you know that.”

However, the blonde detective wasn’t entirely listening. It was like his ears were filled with water. He just stood there staring at the single clue that lead Hobi and Yoongi to discovering what was actually going on in the footage from earlier. Each girl sported an orange colored wristband. After doing some digging, Yoongi had discovered it was an inside tagging system for women who were being trafficked. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. It left a horrible taste in Taehyung’s mouth as he thought of Nari......Nari........

It was then that the feline looking male spoke up but this time directed his attention to the younger inspector.

“Kook---Take him to the cafe around the corner. I’ll forward you guys what I believe to be their city of refuge. It’s not too terribly far from here but it’s a drive. Looks like they took the bus.”

“Thanks, Yoongi hyung. Come on, buddy. Let’s go have a drink.”

That was how Taehyung wound up sitting at a small table with a steaming to-go cup of hot chocolate. Meanwhile, Jungkook had opted for an iced americano. Ugh. Gross. While the younger was looking over the traffic cam footage Yoongi had forwarded to his phone, the detective simply stared out the window of the local cafe. His partner had tried to place a single glazed doughnut in front of him to go with his hot chocolate but Tae had touched neither one; too lost in thoughts of the sweet college student trying to become a kindergarten teacher.

His dream girl.

‘I bet she wants to have kids too someday.....I’ll make sure she has that chance. I’m gonna find her. And I’ll save her.’

The young inspector, on the other hand, was more focused on you. What was your story? Certainly you weren’t going to be working as a barista the rest of your life. The fact that you had taken an online course in Police Science intrigued him. Perhaps you were interested in going into law enforcement? That would be cool. Especially since you were a Busan native. What would be the chances of you working in the same station as him?

“Okay, Ri. Today we’re gonna try and get some fresh clothes and maybe do something with our hair. Basically we need a disguise. Just until we can get our thoughts together and figure out how to notify the police without it looking like we’re turning ourselves in.”

It saddened you when all your best friend did was nod. Again....she used to be so talkative. So bright and cheery. You weren’t sure you were going to be able to take her out of this hotel room just yet. While your guys’ physical scars were already starting to heal, there were far deeper cuts that needed attention. Carefully taking a seat next to her on the bed, you gently wrapped an arm around her and spoke in a soft and soothing tone,

“Nari, baby. You gotta talk to me. I’m no therapist but I think being your best friend has to count for something. You can tell me anything. So please, say something.”

“You could have died.....”

Hmm? Out of all the things you were expecting Nari to say, that definitely wasn’t one of them. Before you could ask her to clarify, she did it for you as she added in explanation,

“They had guns, bestie. And they were shooting at us. They were shooting at you. I was so scared you’d get hit and die. I’ve lost so much. I can’t lose you too. Please---”

“Hey, hey. Shhh. It’s okay, Ri. It’s okay.”

You sat there at the foot of the bed hugging a sobbing Nari; gently rocking the both of you back and forth as you allowed the girl to cry out her feelings. You had been in such a constant state of survival mode, that you hadn’t taken into account how the dangers of the whole situation would affect her. Of course seeing your best friend get shot at would be traumatizing. Gently kissing the girl’s forehead while stroking her hair with a free hand, you said softly and soothingly,

“I’m sorry I scared you, Ri. It wasn’t my intentions. I just......I needed to get us out of there and it was the only way I knew how. And the good news is, we’re not only alive, but we’re free. No more drugs, no more trafficking. We’re humans again and we’re gonna get through this together. I’m with you every step of the way. Okay? Together?”

You held out your pinkie finger for her to take and was happily surprised to see her return the gesture by weakly wrapping her pinkie around your own. This was progress. It was the most Nari had said since the two of you escaped from the organization. Hopefully with this off her chest, she’d open up a little more and just maybe, things would get back to some kind of normal between you two. You really didn’t want to lose your best friend. Nari wasn’t the only one in that hotel room who had lost a lot.

With the both of you feeling a little bit better, you carefully stood up from the bed and brought your bestie along with you. It would be okay. You’d make it be okay no matter the cost. It was time to get out of these disgusting clothes and find something more suitable for wear. Not to mention your hair needed a trim something awful. Then again.....you were willing to go the extra mile for a disguise if it meant surviving to see real freedom.

Deciding it wasn’t smart to stay in one place for two nights in a row, you made the plan to get your clothes, get stuff needed for your hair, maybe purchase a couple duffel bags, and make your next move. That was as far as you had gotten in the planning. Should the two of you stay in this town or perhaps travel back to Daegu? Maybe Busan? Ugh. You just didn’t know yet. Okay. One step at a time, here. One step at a time.

Crossing the street, you had heard from the hotel desk clerk that there was a hand-me-down store for clothing not too far from where they were staying. That would be perfect! You didn’t need to look like models. You just needed some clean clothes to wear. And you had saw where a pharmacy was close by as well. You decided to dye your hair and cut it yourself but you just weren’t sure what color to get. Poor Nari, on the other hand, was way too happy with her hair and especially the color. So to try and find some even ground, the two of you had agreed on a hat. She could tie up her hair and wear a baseball cap. That would work.

While Nari wanted something pretty, you were more focused on trying to disguise yourself as much as possible. In fact, when you came out of the dressing room with a plain white t-shirt tucked into a pair of black skinnies and a black blazer to match; paired with black combat boots that looked like they could kill, Nari couldn’t stop herself from mumbling shyly,

“You look like a boy if it wasn’t for your boobs and long hair.”

“That’s the plan.....babe.”

You couldn’t help but grin as you watched your best friend blush heavily. Don’t get the wrong picture, the both of you were far more into boys. But it was cute to tease your bestie because as much as you loved her, she was such a cute and easy target. When you heard that familiar whine of mortification, you couldn’t help but feel your chest bubble with happiness and relief. Perhaps that talk in the hotel room really did do some good. Nari just simply needed to get some feels off her chest.

After he got Taehyung to finally eat and drink something, Jungkook ended up lugging his butt up from the cafe chair and hauled him outside into the fresh air. It wasn’t like his older friend to get stuck in his feels like this. Sure human trafficking had always been a sore subject, but he was taking it to a completely new level of sore. Stuffing his hands in his pockets and squinting against the sun’s rays, the young inspector said casually,

“Jimin said there wasn’t much to report on the barista from Busan. Apparently she was trying to save her tips from the cafe in order to go into law school. She’s on the fence of whether or not she wants to be a cop or an attorney.”

Jungkook really wanted to meet you. You fascinated him to no end. First the course in Police Science and now law school? You sounded super cool with how you had taken several self defense classes as well. He wondered if you liked boxing......Yeah......maybe he could teach you one day.

Wait what???

Shaking his head to clear it, it was then that he heard Yoongi coming on the ear piece once more.

“Your girls are on the move. They stayed at a hotel last night but they’ve not made any further reservations. Apparently one of the other guests recognized them in the hallways. I informed the manager to keep it quiet because we don’t want to scare them off. If we’re lucky, we can catch them before they depart. The manager said they’ve not returned the room keys yet.”

“Thanks, hyung. Keep us posted.”

“No problem. Forwarding you guys the hotel address now.”

“You hear that, hyung? We’re gonna find them and it’s gonna be okay.”

Feeling a hearty pat on his shoulder, Taehyung nodded and tried to give his younger partner a smile. The two girls must be so scared. Running from not only the organization, but the law as well. When in all reality, this had since then turned into a rescue mission. This was definitely a first for him in his career of law enforcement. Pulling himself together, the blonde squared his shoulders and held his head up high as he walked to the car. Meanwhile, Jeon was reading off the directions to the city where the girls were currently staying in.

“So.....Hyung.......You seem pretty invested in this case. You wanna talk about it?”

Yoongi was right when he said it was a bit of a drive. At the same time, Jungkook couldn’t help but mentally praise the girls for thinking of taking such a far, out-of-the-way route to escape danger. It was a quieter town too. Or so he had heard. Listening to the ticking sound of the vehicle’s turn signal, the blonde detective finally spoke up but in a small voice.

“I just want to find them and bring those dirt bags to justice.”

Okay. So clearly his hyung wasn’t ready to talk about it. Which was totally fine. But it was easier to work with a Kim Taehyung when he had his head on straight and he wasn’t thinking with his heart instead of his brain. Subconsciously nibbling on his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his, Jungkook silently nodded and turned his attention to his phone. With the help of Yoongi and his ability to enhance images, he was able to get a better look at the two girls they were trying to rescue.

“They’re both kind of cute. Once you get past their bird nest hairstyles and grungy clothing.”

That didn’t seem to make matters any easier as Jungkook could hear his hyung gripping the steering wheel all the tighter; the sound of his skin squeaking against the material of the wheel. Oops....

“What hotel was it again? I think we might be approaching the town soon.”

Yeah. Definitely not ready to talk about it.

“Bestie.....are you sure you want to do this? We can get you a ball cap too, you know. It doesn’t have to be this extreme.”

“I’m absolutely positive, Nari. Lay it on me.”

Nari couldn’t believe what she was about to do to her best friend’s hair. It was already painful enough to watch you chop it all off. She knew the point was for you to look as far from yourself as possible but still......This was just crazy. You had chopped your own hair off and now sported a boy cut of sorts. Bangs hung in your eyes to try and hide them while your back had been completely taken up. Not a single strand of hair was hanging down or coming anywhere close to your shoulders. Nothing framing your face. Just your bangs.

“They won’t be looking for a blonde, Nari. Just trust me.”

And that was how you got your hair bleached for the first time ever. It was worth it, though. Everything you were doing, you were doing for you and Nari both. What was a little hair if it meant keeping you both alive and getting your tickets to true freedom? It was so worth it in your mind and you could only hope your bestie would see that too. With time.

After washing and drying it, you stood there in the hotel bathroom mirror with your girl next to you. Nari looked shocked and a bit pale while you were grinning like an idiot. This was perfect. Sporting your outfit you had picked out from the store and turning your head this way and that way to inspect your new hairstyle, you couldn’t wait to throw both the organization and the police for a loop.

They’d never see you coming.

“Okay, Ri. Sadly we can’t stay here. We gotta keep moving. Let’s check out and find a different place to stay. We’ll grab a bus to the next city over and grab another hotel room. We still have plenty of won left. The guy was stupid enough to leave his wallet loaded.”

Helping your bestie secure her baseball cap on and making sure her hair was tucked in nice and neat, you couldn’t help but think how cute she looked dressed so casually compared to the rags she was forced to wear for the last four months of her life. Nari was way too pretty to wear such filth. You couldn’t wait for things to get back to normal. The first thing you’d do is take her shopping for some pretty new clothes to wear to the kindergarten class she shadowed. You knew how much she loved those kids.

Once the both of you packed your items from the convenience store last night and the new batch of instant noodles and snacks from the pharmacy earlier today, you hoisted up the duffel bags and made your way out of the room; making it look just as it did when you arrived. It would be like you were never even here. Although you couldn’t help but notice how deadly quiet it was in the hotel hallways.

“Thanks for staying with us. Have a wonderful day!”

Cool. You were out and on the street once again. The next step in your plan was simple. Find a bus routing out of town to the next city and hop on. Simple, right? Just as you were about to make a step for the bus stop down the street, you felt something hard and cold pressing into the small of your back. Not only that, but a chin rested on your shoulder and whispered in your ear,

“Scream and I’ll shoot you right where you stand, slut.”

Well that sucks.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Twenty Six

“Malfoy?” Ron repeats, “what about him Harry? What about Hermione?” He pleads. 

���It was her, it was Hermione.” He clarified. 

“But I thought-“ Neville starts. 

“It’s Voldemort, our connection or whatever. Hermione is the one who did it this time. She brought me up, he thought of me, and well.” He explained with a shiver. 

“But I thought he warned her. Said someone would d- someone would get hurt if she did that again.” Ron asked worriedly, not wanting to even think about Hermione and death together. 

Harry reluctantly nods, “I know but she had to tell me something.” 

“What was it?” Neville asked. 

“Malfoy. That was all she said, it was like, it was like she couldn’t speak properly. She sounded so...” he shivered, not willing himself to finish, “but that means I was right Ron, Malfoy, he’s got something to do with all this.” Though Draco wasn’t specifically mentioned, Harry was desperate to push his theory. 

Shockingly, Ron didn’t protest, “Look, Harry, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you.” 

The chosen one eyed him, silently imploring himself to go on. 

“Well, since we’ve been back at school I reckon you might be right.” 

“Why?” Harry asks. 

“That day on the train, during the Prefect’s meeting, Malfoy told Katie Bell that Hermione was ‘taking some time away with her family’,” he air quoted, “at first I thought maybe he just heard us, I dunno, but then I started having these dreams.” 

“The ones that’ve been waking you up?” Neville cut in. 

Ron nodded, “yeah, I mean I know it’s just a dream, but every time it starts with Malfoy telling me he knows something about Hermione. That along with his fathers track record, your suspicions, and now this, well...” 

“We need to check his room.” Harry said, like it was simple. 

“What? Harry, are you mental? How in the hell would we swing that.” Ron cried out. 

“No, listen,” he stands from the floor, causing the other two to rise, “we know where the entrance is from second year. We’ll make sure Malfoy is on rounds. I’ll have the map to see if anyone’s coming. We’ll be under my cloak.” Harry explains. 

“Yeah and what about his roommates? Or the password?” Ron asks. 

“He bunks with who? Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle? Well, there has to be a night Quidditch and rounds meet, yeah? We’ll do it then. Neville, you can stay on the pitch just in case.” Harry looks at him. 

Neville nods. Sure, he hasn’t got the full story on what happened, but he’s willing to help anyway he can. 

“Fine.” Ron agreed, only doing this for Hermione and not to entertain Harry’s theory, “when?” 

“I don’t know whenever it works with the Quidditch schedule and rounds.” 

“Here, I have the schedule. I need to know when the pitch is free to practice flying.” Neville admits sheepishly as he searches his trunk for the parchment, “here it is!” 

He hands it over to Harry as Ron grabs the prefect’s schedule. They hold the two sheets side by side, Neville over their shoulder. 

Ron meets his friend's eyes, “tomorrow.” 

...

The three wake early the next morning to go to the Great Hall. There, they work out their final details of the plan, like they did until late last night. 

Harry’s original thought was pretty solid, so it was all just building off that. 

“Alright, after dinner. Six.” Harry reminds again. 

The pair nod. 

“It’s kind of exciting to be a part of this. Is it always this exhilarating?” Neville whispered. 

A small smile found its way across the pair's face, “no.” They answered simultaneously. 

Surprisingly, the notion of having a third person that wasn’t Hermione didn’t bother Ron that much. Simply because it was Neville. 

It’s not like he was replacing her, he was helping out for her. It was something he admired, he knew she would too. 

As Ron stretched and got ready for class, he didn’t notice McGonagall approaching. 

“Mister Weasley.” She called, making him go stalk still. 

“Good morning Professor.” He tried. 

She ignored it, but didn’t yell at him for yesterday either, “the Headmaster requests your presence. The password is cockroach clusters.” 

He gulps. He thinks he’d rather face McGonagall’s wrath than get a talking to by Dumbledore. 

She looks him in the eyes, “I’m going to assume you had good reason for that stunt in the common room yesterday.” She whispers, looking at his black eye, cut cheek, and fat lip from under her glasses. 

He nods quickly. 

“Hm. Longbottom. Potter. Good day.” She says before walking away. 

The pair looked to the redhead. Harry clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Well mate, good luck. Just be done by six, yeah?” He teased. 

“Not funny Harry.” He groaned. 

“Hey, if what just happened is any indication of anything, it’s that McGonagall trusts you. Dumbledore too, remember what he told you at the Burrow.” Their eyes meet briefly. 

The prospect of Horcruxes has been rattling around his brain for weeks, but they promised to bring it up. 

“You’re right, I’ll just tell the truth.” Ron half agrees, turning to leave. 

“Good luck!” He hears Neville call. 

Slowly Ron dredged his way to Dumbledore’s office. A bit scared for what was to come. He didn’t think the man would tell and scream, no, instead he’d give him some confusing life lesson. One that would have him thinking and analyzing it for weeks. 

He’d rather be screamed at. 

“Cockroach clusters.” He told the statue.

In response it twisted into a coiled staircase. Taking a deep breath, Ron climbed it. Soon, he found himself staring at Dumbledore’s back. 

As he opened his mouth to say hello, he was cut off. 

“Ah Ronald, good morning.” The old man said, turning and giving him a small smile. 

“Good morning sir.” Ron responded nervously. 

“The clouds are out today, but you see there,” he points out his window at a single beam of light, “the sun will surely push its way through by the end of the day. Preserve.” He comments. 

Unsure what to say, Ron simply nods. 

Finally, he turns, “do you know why I’ve called you here?” 

Weasley gulped, “I may have a guess...” 

“News travels fast in this castle. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” 

“No sir.” Ron agrees. 

“You’ve been through a great deal Ronald, today, I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt. Violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, but I assume you have good reason.” He says knowingly. 

“Yes sir, I believe I do.” He says honestly. 

“I’m interested to hear.” 

“Well, I didn’t witness it myself and I never uh got the chance to ask her, but I have it on good authority.” He pauses, “from Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Harry,” Ron cites, “that Cormac McLaggen was inappropriate to Hermione the night of Professor Slughorn’s Christmas Party. That and he began making out of line comments about her, I just, well, I wanted to feel like I was doing something.” He says the last word almost as a cry. 

Dumbledore sighs, “I know how you feel Ron.” 

He shakes his head before he can help himself, “no you don’t.” 

Dumbledore would laugh had it been any other situation. It’s almost astounding how similar him and Harry are as he is reminded of their conversation after Sirius’ death. 

“Maybe not, but you’re not the first person I’ve seen struggle with being away from a loved one.” He tells him. 

Again, Weasley shakes his head, “no, this, this hurt is different.” He admits, “I’ve lost people, take Percy for example. Sure I miss him, but with Hermione, it’s a different kind of missing. It’s like, it’s like nothings the same. Like it’s not worth it.” Ron doesn’t know why he feels the need to be so honest. 

“You can’t let this hurt consume you. Your job is to channel that into something else. Something Hermione would’ve liked. Your prefect rounds, your work, Harry. You and I both know she would not approve of her punching Cormac McLaggen, no matter the situation.” 

And he was right, Ron knew he was, but it was so hard. These past twelve hours of confiding in Neville and Harry about Malfoy. About finally coming up with something to help, it felt good. It felt right. 

“You’re right sir.” He agreed. 

“I’m glad we can see eye to eye Ronald. On these dark days, I would like you to remember that the sun always comes out again.” He steps forward and whispers, “I have it on good authority all is being done for your friend. Remember that. Remind Harry of that.” 

Unable to answer, or even protest, he nods. 

Dumbledore was right, finally, him and Harry were doing what they could to help Hermione. 

“Now, I’d hate to keep you from your lessons. Good day Mister Weasley.” The old man smiled, turning back to the window, stroking Fawkes. 

“But sir, aren’t you going to...” Ron started confused. 

“Punish you? Is that what you want?” He questions with a quirked brow. 

“No!” Ron jumps in. 

“Mister McLaggen will be dealt with accordingly. Please don’t make it routine practice to start brawls in my common room.”

“Of course sir. It won’t happen again.” 

“Good.” Dumbledore smiles, “but if anyone asks, you have a week of detention with Professor McGonagall.” The Headmaster winks. 

A smile strikes Ron’s face at his words. “Thank you so much.”

He shakes his head, “for what?” 

Ron laughs. 

“Good day Mister Weasley. Please remember what I said.” 

In response Ron nodded and bid the old man goodbye before vanishing down the stairs. 

Once reaching the bottom he sighed, now all he had to do was get through classes, then it’d be time to put operation what the fuck does Malfoy know in action. 

...

Thankfully, six o’clock came faster than Ron thought it would. He figured all this anxious waiting around would drive him mad and slow time. But it hadn’t. 

“Alright Neville, whatever you do keep them at Quidditch. Practice is supposed to last an hour, we shouldn’t be longer than that, but just in case. We’ll find you when we’re done.” Harry told him one last time. 

He nodded, “got it.” 

“Malfoy should have started rounds a little bit ago, come on.” Ron prodded. 

“Okay, good luck Neville.” Harry said. 

“Good luck to you guys too. I won’t let you down. I won’t let Hermione down.” He assures in a whisper. 

The pair nods in response. They know he won’t. They’re not planning to either. 

As Neville disappeared down the corridor, Harry soon skimmed the map, finding Draco’s dot wandering by the Charms room. 

“Let’s go, we’ll cut through the courtyard.” Harry said, throwing the cloak over them. They had to huddle to fit, but it worked. 

Soon enough, they successfully reached the dungeons, only seeing Missus Norris once, but she just pranced by, not noticing them. 

“Alright, we’ll just wait until someone says the password.” Harry whispered. 

It took five minutes, but soon enough they saw Millicent Bulstrod’s dot move closer to them. 

“Sacred Twenty-Eight.” She told the stone. 

Ron scowled at the password. 

Soon enough it opened up as she went though. 

“If we hurry we can sneak in with her, come on!” Harry said lowly. 

Thankfully, the noise of the moving stone masked their footsteps as they snuck in behind Millicent, nearly budging into her. 

She didn’t notice though, as she disappeared up a staircase. 

“Other one must be the boys.” Ron pointed out, already moving to the leftward staircase. 

Nodding, Harry dredged on. Luckily, like Gryffindor Tower, each of the dorms with a sign indicating the year, ranging from one to seven. 

Soon, their eyes fell on the one labeled ‘Sixth Years’, it was slightly ajar. Before entering, the pair glanced briefly to the map in Harry’s hands, being extra cautious to ensure they were alone. 

They pushed open the wooden door, cringing as it squeaked on its hinges, they surveyed the area carefully before fully stepping in. Once inside, they threw off the cloak as Harry took the liberty to cast a locking charm, all while Ron caused a ‘muffalito’. 

The room was identical to their own dorms, but all red had been replaced with green and gold swapped with silver. 

“Which do you think is his?” Ron whispered despite silencing the room. 

The chosen one eyes the four poster beds carefully. The one closest to the door is messier than he thought imaginable. The blankets tossed on the ground and the sheets of specks of something on them. 

The next one isn’t as bad, the blankets are ruffled and the pillows are skewed, but the bedside table is reasonably clean. However, the image of a scantily clad witch peeking out from beneath the blanket is very visible. 

The quidditch posters and personal photos tacked onto a board over the third bed can only confirm it belongs to Blaise Zabini. 

And if Ron and Harry were placing bets, there’s  no doing the last one belongs to one Draco Malfoy. His bed is neatly made. Though his space isn’t as personal as Blaise’s, there’s a stack of books and parchment neatly organized on the side table. A ring rests on top of the pile, one they’ve seen Draco bear many times before. 

“I didn’t really fancy Malfoy to be all tidy.” Ron commented. 

“Really?” Harry asked, shocked, objection on his lips about how well Draco dressed being indicated as much. 

Like his friend could sense it, he shook his head, “no just because a bloke can clean up nice, doesn’t make them neat. Fred and George have pretty nice robes, but you’ve seen their room.” He reminded. 

Harry monetarily shivered at the thought. He wouldn’t even be remotely shocked if something was growing under the twins beds. 

As the dark haired boy was monetarily lost in thought, Ron stepped closer to the vantage point and eyed the table carefully. 

“I reckon one things out of place, he’ll know.” He states. 

Harry nods in agreement, “how about you start   in the drawers, I’ll do his trunk.” 

Weasley agreed and began carefully filing through the stacks of parchment. Most of it seemed to be nothing but graded assignments along with the occasional letter from home. 

All were only from his mother. They were short and not at all telling of anything. 

Just simple things like, 

Hope you’re doing well. I miss you son. 

I’ve sent a few galleons for your Hogsmeade visit next week, have fun. Love you. 

I’m going to pick you up from the platform on Saturday. I can’t wait to see you! Mum. 

And if the correspondents weren’t between those with the last name Malfoy, Ron might even think they were sweet. 

Harry had also been having similar luck to Ron. Draco’s trunk was an endless amount of clothes and shoes, really nothing that raised eyebrows. 

He peered over to see Ron skimming through the pages of a book. 

“Anything?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked hopefully. 

He shook his head, “no, just something for that Dark Arts essay on centaurs magical properties I reckon.” 

In response Potter groaned. They’ve been here nearly ten minutes. 

“Okay, how about I check the bed and you check under it?” He suggested next. 

Ron was about to protest to say that he doubts Draco would leave some big bad clue under his pillow, but they figured no stone should be left unturned. 

Complying, Ron ducked down to the floor and he heard Harry ruffling Draco’s sheets. 

A pair of shoes under the bed, along with an old sock. A chocolate frog under his pillow. That was it. 

As Harry began to work on lifting the mattress, they could vaguely hear the crunching of stone echo inside the quiet room. 

Both jumped, Ron hitting his head in the process, before meeting eyes. 

Quickly, Harry grabbed for the map, eyes scanning for Draco’s dot. 

“He’s in the common room!” He stage whispered. 

The ginger jumped and looked to be sure, “complete tosser he is. He’s supposed to be on rounds for another hour, just wait-“ 

“Ron!” It seemed as if he missed Hermione so much he had taken to adapting some of her values as well. 

“You’re right, sorry.” He said before moving to grab the cloak, “come on Harry.” 

As the other boy moved to join him, something caught his eye, “wait.” He said picking up the book on Centaurs. 

“Harry, I already looked like that, let’s go! I hear footsteps.” He said, casting a charm to tidy up Draco’s bed as good as new. 

“It’s not that.” He whispered in response. 

Being that Harry had cut Ron off midway through his investigation on Malfoy’s bedside table, he never got around to the small book hidden underneath the one for class. 

Wizarding Antiques

His mind soon flashes to Draco wandering around Borgin & Burkes months ago. Both Hermione and Ron dismissed it, but this book proves it meant something more. 

“Harry!” Ron stage whispered, having to undo the locking charm so they could leave. However, as he did so, the foot falls only grew louder. 

Mesmerized he ignored Ron, eyeing the cover. Something soon caught his eye. A book Mark sticking out just a little over halfway in the book. 

Eagerly opening it to see whatever Draco has tagged, he stops when he realizes it wasn’t a bookmark. No, it was a photograph. 

Astounded by the sight in front of him, he puts the book down, completely forgetting about his prior task. He’s reminded of why they’re really here. 

Not to confirm what Harry believes to be true, but for Hermione. This picture is telling him as much. Shoving it in his face. 

“Harry, let’s go!” Ron says, tossing the cloak partly over his hunched frame as Draco can be heard conversing with another Slytherin outside the door. 

Harry stands still. He can’t move. He can barely think. 

There’s no way- 

“Harry,” Ron tries again, but soon realizes his friend is completely enthralled in something, “wait, what is it? Did you find something?” Like his friend, he remembers why he’s here. Who he’s here for. 

Ron peeks over his shoulder at the picture. He can’t understand what has Harry in such a state over it. He’s seen it countless times in The Prophet.  

“Hermione.” Is all he can whisper. 

The name of course catches Ron’s attention, but he’s suddenly drawn away by The jerking of the door, making him jump. Thankfully, he’s managed to secure the cloak around Harry and move them closer to the door. However, the picture is still clutched in his hand. 

He holds his breath as Malfoy eyes the room suspiciously. Then it appears something catches his eye. 

He steps forward only centimeters from them. 

Wealsey screws his eyes shut in anticipation. 

It’s over, Merlin it’s all over-

But instead he makes his way over to Goyle’s sneering as he covers up the photo of the nude witch with his pillow. 

Doing his best not to outwardly sigh in relief, Ron takes the distraction to get the hell out, practically dragging Harry with him. 

As they reach the somewhat safe, well, less dangerous area of the Slytherin boys staircase, Ron again takes the time to observe the photo. Harry’s still mesmerized by it, though he can’t see why. And he can’t ask either, at least not until they’re back in Gryffindor tower. 

It’s a picture of Draco sitting in a chair, stoic look on his face. To his left is his mother dressed in elegant black robes, looking regal as ever, hand on her son's shoulder. To his right, his father in the same position. Except, he looks less royal, more worn than anything. 

The pictures on a loop, but they barely move. Just a slight shift in Draco’s father’s feet. A twitch of the youngest Malfoy’s upper lip is somewhat noticeable. 

The only thing that does stand out, is the continuous sparkling of a chandelier glittering above them.

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part nine ~ i’ll walk with you ~

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine)

A/N: I’ve had these scenes in mind since I started writing. Messages/Asks are open. Take time for yourself this week if you can. You’re important. 

Summary: George plans a party. Alex hears more noise coming from Sammy & Y/N’s apartment; he investigates.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Implications of an Abusive Relationship.

Word Count: 3.9k      BLUE TEXT = FLASHBACKS

Afternoon sun seeped in between where the window curtains in his bedroom met, creating a diagonal slash of light across Alex’s face. Eyes closed; light brown eyelashes rested softly on even softer cheeks. Their natural blush toned down in his unconsciousness. Lips relaxed to be parted the tiniest amount, enough to let out small mewls as he slept: more like purring than snoring.

He appeared delicate enough to break with a single glance. Peaceful. Calm. Unproblematic. Unlike when he was awake.

Clattering of cookware and the smell of burnt are both unpleasant things to wake up to. Combine the two, add muttered cursing in his flatmate’s distinct voice, and that would be Alex’s alarm clock.

Ten hours of dead sleep ended abruptly at a SLAM of a kitchen drawer followed with the metal clash of pans and the refrigerator door being opened and shut repeatedly. It was odd. George was usually a quiet presence to have around. Often loud-mouthed but always light on his feet.

Alex groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter, but he was not able to ignore the noise. Rolling twice over, he moved to one side of the bed and dragged himself out from under his duvet. Retying the strings on his pajama bottoms – which had slipped to be sitting precariously on his hips – he scanned his room. Deciding to load his arms up with food wrappers and half-full glasses before leaving.

“Morning,” George called over his shoulder as he pushed a spatula around in a pan in short panic-fueled movements. A light smoke spiraled up into his face.

“Is it?”

“Close enough.” He moved the pan off the hob. “It’s half one.”  

Flipping the glasses in his arms upside down and loading them into the dishwasher, Alex smiled to himself. Knowing whatever it was his flatmate was making – he would end up eating. It was not that either of them were terrible cooks just that both were impatient and set temperatures higher than should be or was recommended. To be fair, things did come out faster but also often simultaneously burnt in parts and still raw in others.

“We’re set to host this weekend.” George piped up as he pushed his concoction from the pan onto a plate – an identical one next to it. “How much alcohol do you think we need to stock up? Keeping in mind that Will asked us to keep him accountable after how he crashed last time…”

Alex closed the dishwasher and put the food wrappers in the kitchen bin. He took a bar seat and watched his flatmate finish up. “You invited Becky, right?”

“Right.”

“And she said she’d come? Might as well double it is whatever we got.”

George laughed. He slid the spatula and pan he used to cook, into the waiting water of the plugged sink. Taking a plate up in each hand, he moved to take a bar seat and placed in front of Alex a very crispy looking omelet. It was cheese and ham and mushroom.

“Thanks,” Alex mumbled around the fork already shoveling food into his mouth.

It was quiet for a few minutes as both men ate at their respective speeds: George with small quick bites and Alex with large, almost inhuman bites he did not necessarily chew before swallowing.

Adjusting his glasses, as he had not bothered to mess with his contacts that morning, George piped up with, “James texted me earlier. Aria and him are hitting up a pub or two tonight for a birthday celebration thing. I don’t know. But he wanted us to come along.”

“It’s not James’ birthday.”

“I think it’s for one of Aria’s friends. Reckon he just doesn’t want to be the one guy there.”

“I think I’m going to be busy.”

“Scraping together a video because you’re already late to upload doesn’t count as ‘being busy.’” George chuckled.

Quiet crept back into the conversation, expanding out like a noxious gas and poisoning all the air in the apartment, maybe even the entire floor of the building.

Omelets were eaten. Plates were cleared and cleaned. It came time for both to go return to their separate sides of the apartment into their separate lives and separate understandings. Alex reached for the handle on his bedroom door.

George pitched his voice a smidge lower than usual and started, “It’s ok—”

“Piss. I hate it when you do that. Do we have to?” Shoving a hand through his hair, Alex stepped back from the door, choosing instead to lean on the back of the sofa with arms crossed as he faced his flatmate. Why could we not have a regular morning? Why does he have to go on and ruin it?

“It’s OK to be, you know, lonely.”

Alex scoffed. “How could I be lonely when I got you hovering over me all the time?”

“I meant like romantic-like. There’s no shame in using Tinder and Grindr and that.”

“I’m not lonely.” He almost put the word in air quotes. Almost. “Or if I was, I’m not that desperate – besides, you pretty well ruined my dating ability on Grindr. Why you concerned anyway?”

“You’ve been moping. Acting all far away from things and that.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t mean to be if I am.” It did not take a lot of words for Alex to express the admiration he held for George and his genuine gratitude for the compassion all his mates had shown him. It did not take a lot of words, just a tone he reserved for them and a knowing look. “Don’t always notice it.”

“I do. When you’re not your usual annoying self, chattering on and on about Star Wars and Lord of the Rings for hours, making me want to chop off my ears.”

“And bagging a bird will fix me right up?”

“You don’t need fixing.” George shrugged. “I’m not trying to get sappy or whatever, but the right person comes along; sometimes, you just need to set-up the right conditions for that right person, you know?”

“You get one girlfriend in your whole life, and you’re a relationship expert, is that it?”

“Basically.”

Laughing, Alex pushed himself off the back of the sofa and meandered a couple of steps closer to his bedroom door. Signaling a clear desire to end the conversation – not that George would pick up on even the most obvious body language: what with his watermelon-level social skills.

Unsurprisingly enough, for each step Alex took to distance himself from his flatmate, George took an equal step toward him. His hands came up in front of him in an it’s not all bad type gesture.

“Come out with James and me tonight and have some fun. I’ll even stay out the way if you want to bring a lass back to the flat.” George winked an exaggerated wink.

“I can’t get a pet lizard because of possible diseases, but you’re condoning a one-nighter?”

“Yeah, could do you some good.”

Alex tapped his socked foot against the floor, a rhythm of gentle thumps. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said hesitantly, “I’ll think about it – going out – ask me again later?”

“Alright.” George nodded. Both men resigned from the conversation and moved towards their respective bedrooms.

~LATER~

Alex flashed a smile to the camera. “Don’t forget to leave a like, subscribe if you’re new, and turn notifications on. And I’ll see you guys in the next video. Peace out people and have a good day.”

He stopped the recording. It was the entire rest of his afternoon, but he had finally finished filming himself having another go at Brent Rivera. Drained from even simulated socialization, Alex pushed off from his chair and dumped himself on top of his bed. Sprawled out like a lowercase letter ‘x.’

It took a lot of trial and error over most of his life to learn how essential breaks were to his productivity. Pulling his phone from his pocket and his earbuds from off his side table, he pressed play on his most recently cultivated playlist. Alex let his eyelids flutter closed (without intentions to sleep) and focused on the music: steady. sappy. great vocals.

From above him came the familiar sound of muffled shouting followed with a new sound – the shattering of glass. It was loud enough to hear over his music. Alex pulled his earbuds out and laid still, cocking his head a tad, as he listened.

All couples fight. Alex knew that. First of all, because he was not an idiot. Second of all, because he had gotten into it with all his past partners at some time or another. Now he also knew he was not an aggressive person nor intimidating in most situations. But he had gotten rather angry before – pulsing neck vein kind of angry.

He had shouted and been met with stunned quiet. He had shouted and been met with shouts of equal anger. It was never pleasant. It solved nothing, and he regretted it after.

Muffled shouting remained indistinct but grew in volume. Alex closed his eyes tighter; he was weak in the stomach like he was going to be sick and felt lighter like he had been bloodletting. His breathing picked up. He tried to ignore it – the shouting. With rattling hands, he put his earbuds back in and practiced some of that self-talk his therapist had once recommended.

All couples fight. It is normal. There is nothing to be anxious about. I am not there. It does not involve me.

There was a second shattering sound from above. An army of nightmare scenarios invaded his head. He did not know what was happening. He did not know what was happening and it. was. killing. him.

What if I did nothing and Y/N’s in genuine trouble?

Alex took to his feet in a flash. Slipping his phone in his pocket and snatching his keys off his desk, he stormed out of the bedroom like he was escaping a fire.

“Al, where are you going?” George dropped what he was doing, jumped to stand, and near hurdled over the sofa in a race to reach the front door first. In a stern command, he called, “Stop.”

But the younger was not listening. Alex had his hand on the door handle, pulling it open just ten centimetres when George appeared to the side of him and closed it with one hand, trapping him inside.

“Let me go.” He pulled the handle, gaining no more leverage.

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“I—” It was apparent he wanted to get the words out, but before another distorted syllable could be spoken, Alex stopped and turned his eyes up to the ceiling: to the muffled shouting.

Rigid in stance, George scrunched up his forehead; he did not move his gaze from Alex. “No. You have to let it be. You have to—just, don’t get involved.”

After dropping his focus to the floor, and looking to his feet for a short second, Alex pulled his eyes back up – pathetic and pleading. Desperate for something but trapping all possible answers inside. Opening his mouth and closing it again, he appeared liable to spring a leak or deflate entirely. “Please.”

George complied. He removed his hand from the door. And Alex left the flat.

He was the same person in the same hall he had been in a thousand times. Yet. It was different that time. Familiar but wrong – spoiled – a rip-off version of a beloved video game.

Might have been the lights were about dead and not shining as bright. Or the carpeting had not been hoovered recently and was stiffer under his shoes. Or some decoration had been removed from the walls, something large enough that his peripheral recognized it as being absent. 

Might have been, but Alex could not be sure.

Weaving around the crumbling blockades of rationality and through the ripped recklessness filter, a spark carrying a thought ™ completed the obstacle course from stem to the front of his brain: You’re not a fighter. Even if Alex walked straight into Sammy and Y/N battling it out on the floor above, what was he expecting himself to do? Could he even act logically in such a situation? When just the thought of it had riled him up so terribly?

Each step Alex walked, the stale air expanded further beyond the physical limits of the hall. Goose pimples bubbled up on the skin of his arms. His own footfalls sounded distant behind his breathless breathing and the ring in his ears. 

At reaching the lift doors, the feeling of suffocation broke to little relief. Not broke like a fever, with the hope of good health ahead, broke like snapping a pen in half, leaving it useless. Surely, he would be useless.

His index finger smashed against the call button; the sliding doors opened. Anxious fires died down while worried coals remained warm and present. He needed to know what was happening – not with himself – that was a question he could not answer. But with Y/N. Lovely, Y/N.

DING. Alex cleared the doors and took the hall above his own in quick strides until he stopped outside Sammy and Y/N’s apartment.

Shouts could be heard from behind the door, first from Sammy, “You never remember any of the good things I do!”

Y/N interjected, “I—”

“No. I’m talking. You’re such a depressive bitch to be around – everybody agrees. Oh, go on. Get all teary-eyed. Can’t you see how manipulative that is? Where are you go—? Red!”

Alex raised his fist to knock when the handle jumped, and the door was thrown open. Startled, he stood stock-still as Y/N harshly shoulder-checked him. She fled up the hall – opposite the lift – to the door for the stairwell.

Nothing in her hands. Not even wearing shoes.

“Alex? What are you doing here?” Sammy stepped forward from his hidden spot inside the apartment and into view; his frame took up almost the entire doorway. A reserved but friendly smile stretched across his mouth. His cheeks were not flushed red with heat, and there was not a speck of hostility in his stare.

Neither acting nor looking like he had just been screaming. As if he had flipped a switch, the second Y/N was out of sight; shifted into a new skin entirely.

“Um—I,” Alex babbled as he dragged his focus from the door Y/N had disappeared behind. “I—there was a crash. It was loud, and George thought I better check-up on you two, make sure everyone’s ok.”

Putting his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, Sammy jostled him a touch. “No worries. That’s actually really cool – very thoughtful. Yeah, when Red gets agitated, things can get out of hand fast.”

“George and I, we’ve gotten a good number of noise complaints before, and we’re still here. But I’ll be honest. Keep going like that, and the eviction notice will be slid under your door tomorrow.”

“Good looking out. We got security called on us yesterday. Poor guy had to practically tear Red off of me.” Sammy held his hands out and curled his finger in a representation of cat claws. “I don’t expect there to be much noise going forward. She’ll calm down. Best to just leave her alone for a bit.”

Alex was decidedly not going to do that. “I could talk to her.”

“I wouldn’t bother, but I won’t stop you.” Sammy’s face brightened. “Actually. You know what? That might not be a bad idea. Less chance of her causing a scene if she’s with someone. And your type is well good at handling women and the emotional stuff, aren’t you?”

“My type?”

Alex gritted his teeth at the comment. “Stop.”

“Oh?” Sammy raised his head. “You’re gay?”

George started, “Well, he’s bi—”

“Yeah.” Alex cut him off. Sometimes it was easier to just be “gay” than to get specific with someone who might not understand or even accept further explanation.

Sammy breathed out an, “Oh.”

“Is that an issue?” 

“It’s a relief! Don’t have to be worried about you trying to chat up Red.”

“Oh!” Alex forced a smile, “My type right. I got yous.”

“That’ll be perfect. Much better to have you giving Red advice than—well, just remind her that you’ve known me long enough to know I’m a good guy and stuff.” Sammy stepped back and wrapped his hand around the door to close it. “Maybe, tell her I’m sorry or something.”

“Got it.” Alex turned and walked up the hall to the stairwell door. He heard Y/N’s whimpers and then jogged up one flight of stairs and found her.

Y/N sat on the edge of the landing with her bare feet planted on the step below. Crying quietly, despite stairwell echo, as she held a hand over her mouth in a bid to suppress each hiccup and each broken noise. Her her head hung low.

Others might have described her as a portrait of lost strength after holding out for so long: a tragedy-struck Venus: an inspirational and poetic muse. Alex would not. He saw nothing analogous to artwork. 

Y/N was not a subject to be romanticized in her lowest moments. She was not a canvas, painted pale with a couple of blue-tinted tears. She was a person, shuddering while red blotches bloomed across her skin.

“Hey, Red. I—uh…heard what happened, and I’m sorry for following you, but I was worried.” His heart gushed with empathy or sympathy – if he had ever bothered to learn the difference, maybe he could tell. 

All Alex knew was his core ached with physical pain when he looked at her.

There was no reaction to his words nor his presence. Y/N did not lift her head; Alex ducked to see if he could perhaps catch her eyes, but they were screwed shut. Tears carved rivers down her cheeks. The hand over her mouth remained and was accompanied by her other hand as her sobs reached a new peak. It did not seem she would be speaking anytime soon.

And what was Alex supposed to do? He could not force her to want him there, so he reluctantly turned around and started back down the stairs. While he walked, a voice broke the silence in his head: Y/N’s emotional state and relationship issues are not your responsibility. It is not your job to help pick her up.

True. It was not Alex’s job to be there, and that was reason enough for him to leave without guilt. He was not responsible for her, and that should have stopped him from thinking about it again. It would have stopped him if he had not lived the life he had. If he had not known how frustrating – how debilitating it was to feel so helpless. To need others so desperately while also unable to ask for that help.

Leaning on the push bar of the stairwell door two floors down, opening it to his hall, he could see the door to his apartment, and where he knew George would be anxiously waiting for him.

Alex traced his gumline with his tongue. What am I doing? Spinning around, he took the stairs two at a time back up to Y/N.

True. It was not his job to be there. Alex wanted to be there. Even if Y/N was not in a position to understand that.

Returning to the landing, he stopped for a breath, unsure how to approach the crying woman, just watching her for a short moment. He sat beside her and planted his feet on the step below. A pair of shoes set next to a pair of bare feet.

When his bottom touched the floor, he felt the full weight of Y/N pushing on him. Her sobbing renewed as her arms wrapped around his neck, and her hands found the back of his shirt with clinging grasps. Alex wrapped his arms around her. Y/N brought her legs in closer and practically pulled herself into his lap.

From how limp and pliable Y/N was as she spilled over him, it was clear there was no anger behind her tears. No rage. No thought that she might start shouting obscenities or stomping her feet. Nothing like that. These were cries of exhaustion. But how she clung onto Alex like she was trying to ground herself, like he was the one real thing in her world at that moment, made him think there was more to it. How she had pacified herself with her hands earlier and how she buried her face in Alex’s chest to similar results. Y/N was frightened. Scared.

Tears formed wet spots on his shirt. Alex tried to keep himself as stable as possible, and he was, for the most part, considering how the woman he held shook like a coke-addicted pomeranian. It was not as uncomfortable as he might have thought. There was no talking, shushing, or humming. Alex and Y/N just sat in their relative quiet for however long it took.

Eventually, the hiccupping slowed. Stopped. Then it was just them and the quiet.

Alex asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Y/N’s limbs stiffened, and Alex relaxed his hold to allow her to untangle herself from him; she did. Pulling back, she swung her legs and situated herself to be sitting perpendicular to him. Her puffy, wet eyes hesitantly met his dry ones.

“Is it normal? For couples to fight like us?” Y/N asked somehow able to keep eye contact as she did but not able to raise her voice much above a whisper. “For him to throw things?”

“No.”

“Oh. I’m sorry you had to—”

“You don’t have to apologize. It was scary.” He assumed as he ventured to place his hand lightly on her knee. “If you ever want to talk to someone, I’m here. Whenever you want to drop in, just do it. Seriously. I got lots of free time; I’m basically unemployed.”

“Thank you.” Giggling, Y/N wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and dropped her hand to her knee – curling her fingers around his hand; she gave a small squeeze. “You’re sweet.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Have I? Huh. It must be true then.” The words were barely out her mouth when she dropped her newfound smile entirely, and her brows furrowed in seriousness. “I should—it’s time I head back.”

Alex bit his lip, wanting to protest, wanting to scream and shout, but knowing he could not risk starting an argument with her – not now, not about this. “Ok. I’ll walk with you.”

Taglist: (message to join!) @angelbabyivy @eboysimp

[n3rdybird]

Meddling

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Multi Fandom Follower Celebration.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Prompts: “Siblings best friend” and the quote “What do you have to hide anyway?” which I admittedly tweaked to “What does she have to hide anyway?”

Rating- T for Dustin’s potty mouth, lol and some tooth rotting fluff. Enjoy!!

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

Steve Harrington was having a good day.  Spent some time with his little buddy Dustin at the arcade, flirted with some girls, beat Dustin at Mrs. Pacman (which was pure luck, but that didn’t stop him from celebrating with a very elaborate victory dance) and now he was driving him home, and he might just get a chance to see you, Dustin’s older sister.

He had never paid much attention to (Y/N) Henderson, as you ran in a different clique in school.  You were too smart to be caught hanging out with him, but he was aware of you.  While he and his friends ruled the school with sports, parties, and popularity, you were quiet, smart, and just… nice.  He shared a history class with you, and when he was having trouble keeping track of the names/dates/places, you leaned over his desk during a free period, and taught him tricks to keep the facts straight.  And when he got a B- on his next quiz, he showed it to you proudly, and you gave him the most brilliant shy smile and congratulated him.

He was dazed by your smile for what seemed like hours, until his friends asked him what his problem was.  When he showed them his quiz, they laughed it off.  He laughed it off too, shoving the quiz into his bag.  After all, “King Steve” wasn’t a nerd, he didn’t worry about grades.

But then, he started dating Nancy, and then all that weird shit was happening.  His friends didn’t seem like friends anymore, and Barb disappeared.  And then life was normal-ish for awhile, until Nancy dumped him.  Then Dustin dragged him into catching Dart, and you stumbled onto them with their weapons and pads.  You demanded to know what was going on and why was your Mom looking for Mews across town.  Any ideas Steve had about you being quiet and mouse-y were blown away when you armed yourself with a golf club to help out.  Especially when you helped him escape from the demodogs in the junkyard with a well placed swing of a 9 iron.

And again, things calmed down after a while.  He found himself a pseudo big brother to Dustin and harboring a crush on you.  But he was too nervous to talk to you, so instead he hung out with her little brother and kept his crush to himself.

“Dude, are you even listening?” Dustin’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“What? Sorry man,” Steve apologized.  Dustin sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I was saying, I’m not sure if your advice on girls really works,” he repeated.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Steve gasped and clutched his chest as if hit with a mortal blow.

“My advice is awesome,” he corrected the young boy.

Dustin looked at him unconvinced.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” he prodded.

“Well, no but I’m not looking right now.  Lone wolf style, don’t want to be tied down,” Steve spluttered.

“So you weren’t trying to flirt with that blonde girl at the snack bar, and she didn’t laugh at you and walk away?” Dustin asked.

“She wasn’t laughing at me, she was laughing with me, there’s a difference,” Steve excused.

“Uh huh… sure,” the curly-haired boy said, keeping in his laughter.

“Young people, no respect.  I’ll have you know you are talking to “Steve the Hair Harrington.”  No one has better advice about the ladies than me.”

“I’m just saying, the pretending you don’t care method, doesn’t seem to work,” Dustin shrugged.

“Oh yeah, and where did you hear that?” Steve scoffed.

“I read it in my sister’s diary,” he said bluntly.

The car lurched to a stop as Steve braked hard, pulling the car over to the side as the car behind him honked.

“Dude, you can’t read your sister’s diary!” he blurted out.

“Why not? What does she have to hide anyway?  In case you forgot, we all fought monsters from another dimension together.”

Steve ran his head through his hair before focusing on the road again and steered the car back into traffic.

“Not the point man.  Girls’ diaries are sacred.  It has all their innermost thoughts, and she would kill you if she caught you.”

Dustin huffed.

“I was just trying to do research into a girl’s mind.  Mr. Clarke said that every successful experiment needs to be based on research.”

Steve gave him a hard scolding look.  

“Fine, I won’t do it again.  It didn’t have much to read anyway, just her talking about some guy she has a crush on.”

Steve had to keep from braking again when he heard that bit of information.  Instead, he tried to play it cool.

“A crush huh?  Did she ever say who it was?”

Dustin shook his head.

“Never gave a name.  Think he’s in her English class.”

Steve sunk into his seat.  He only had History with her this year.

“Huh, cool.  Wonder who it is,” he said distracted by trying to think of all the guys in your English class.  That asshole Billy was in there.  No, you wouldn’t have a crush on Billy.  Steve started muttering to himself, trying to work out who you could have a crush on.

Dustin swiveled in his seat, full on staring at the 18-year-old driving.

“Why do you care who my sister has a crush on?  Do you like her?”

“What no! No, no of course not.”

Dustin looked unconvinced.

“I mean, has she said anything about me?” Steve asked, looking anywhere but at his passenger.

“Dude, that’s my sister!” Dustin groaned, punching Steve in the arm.

“Hey! Easy, I’m driving,” he said, swatting Dustin’s arms away from him.  Dustin folded his arms and sat back down in his seat.

The car ride became quiet, and Steve was a little worried that Dustin was going to come after him with his own bat.

When he pulled up to Dustin’s house, you were sitting outside reading.  You waved at the car when you heard the familiar sound of Steve’s car.

Steve waved back like a dork and Dustin just shook his head.

“You know if you did like her, I guess it’s better than some of the other assholes out there.”

Steve smiled and held out his hand for a high-five.

“Thanks man, but I don’t think she likes me like that.”

Dustin shrugged and grabbed his backpack from the floorboards.  He opened the door to step out when he paused.

“History.”

Steve blinked.

“What?”

“He’s in her History class, not English.  Thanks for the ride!” he said, shutting the door and running up the sidewalk to his house.

Steve sat in his seat, frozen as his brain tried to process the new information.  You had a crush on someone in your History class.  Steve was in your History class.  He looked up to see you ruffling Dustin’s hair as he got to the front porch.  You waved again, before ushering your little brother into the house.

It could be him.

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

When Dustin got home, he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.  You were a little suspicious when he kept looking at you and looking away.

“Alright, spill it Dust-bunny.  What’s going on?”

He shrugged, and pulled a drink out of the fridge.

“Nothing, why?”

You narrowed your eyes.

“You’ve either done something or you are going to do something.  I can tell by like smirk you’ve got going on there,” you said, motioning towards his face.

“Nope, nothing going on.  By the way, is Steve in your history class?”

You folded your arms across your chest.

“He is, why?  Did he need some more tutoring?  We do have a big test coming up,” you mused out loud.

Dustin did a quick fist pump while you were distracted.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to ask you if you minded studying with him tomorrow.”

You nodded as you mentally ran through your schedule.

“I could, I don’t get off from the library until seven.  But afterwards I’m free.”

“That’s fine.  He said you can come straight over after work.”

“Alright, should I call him?”

“No, I’ll let him know,” Dustin blurted out.

You stared long and hard at your little brother.

“O-okay.  Just tell him to pick me up tomorrow at seven.”

“Right, sure.  I’ll let him know,” he agreed, before retreating back to his room and slamming the door.

You shook your head.

“Weird kid.”

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

“Steve, Steve, come in, over!” Dustin called frantically into the radio.  Steve had received one of the walkie-talkies as he was added to the Party.  It was great for calls you didn’t want anyone else, namely his sister, to pick up on.

“Dustin, I was asleep,” the groggy voice of Steve answered.

“Get up, you need to get ready, over,” he said as he was packing his backpack with supplies. 

“For what? And you don’t need to keep saying over.”

“(Y/N) is coming over to help you study for your history test.”

There was a long silence and Dustin wondered if Steve fell back asleep.

“Why is she coming over?” was the confused answer.

Dustin groaned and resisted the urge to smash the walkie-talkie against the wall.

“So you can make your move dumb ass!  You know, ask her out.”

“Did she say something?” Steve blurted out, now clearly awake and listening.

“Not really, but you guys are in history together.  Obviously the guy in her diary is you.  So, we need to set the scene, make it romantic, and get you ready.  She’s expecting you to pick her up at the library at seven after her shift,” Dustin rattled off.

“Dustin… its 9 a.m.”

“Exactly, we have no time to lose.  I’ll head that way on my bike.  You better not fall asleep before I get there.  Over and out!”

Operation Clueless Idiots was underway.

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

You finished your shelving for the night, and leaned against the front desk.  Dustin was acting strange, well, stranger than usual? But not as strange as when the world was ending.  So, he was acting odd.  You tried to puzzle out why Dustin was acting so weird, when the head librarian dropped her hand on your shoulder.

Jumping a little, and embarrassed she had caught you off guard, you apologized.

“No need (Y/N), I know why you are so spacey today,” she said with a knowing nod.

“You do?” you asked, confused.

“That nice handsome young man has been waiting for you in the parking lot for the last fifteen minutes.  You can go ahead and leave for the night.  Don’t keep him waiting,” she said with a wink before heading to her office.

You felt yourself flush at the mention of Steve.  If anyone had told you that you’d be friends with Steve the Hair Harrington, you’d roll your eyes.  Before, Steve was very self-absorbed.  He only cared about his popularity and sports.  But that was just a mask.  The Steve you grew to know was brave and funny and selfless.  

After everything and he was dumped by Nancy, he took Dustin under his wing.  You were thankful.  When your dad left, your brother confided in his friends, but he didn’t have an older male presence in his life.  There was no way he’d talk to you or your mom about his crushes or girls.  But Steve took the time to hang out with him, and build up his confidence.  It was sweet, really.

It wasn’t hard to start having feelings for him, past friendship.  He was always around, hanging out with the kids, helping you baby-sit, and each one of his smiles sent you into a tizzy.  When you began to interact at school, he quickly shut down his friends unlike the previous years, and would make time for you no matter who was watching.

This new grown up Steve was wonderful.  (Well, a little grown up.  You did catch him and Dustin having a ‘light saber’ duel in the backyard once.  Dustin won, of course.)  But even with your newfound friendship, he seemed to hold himself back from getting to know you.  You had come to accept that the two of you were friends, and nothing more.

Even if studying was the only thing happening tonight, you couldn't stop the zip of excitement that coursed down your spine when you exited the library.  Steve was leaning against the passenger door of his maroon BMW, messing with the strings on his hoodie.  You cleared your throat, causing his head to snap up. You waved hi and his face lit up.

"Hey (Y/N), how was work?"

"Quiet, you know. Like a library," you joked.

He laughed along with you.

"Haha, I bet. You'll probably be wishing you were still at work once we start studying. I don't know how you keep everything straight," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well for starters, I pay attention in class," you teased.

Steve groaned.

"But Mr Sutherland is so boring. I can barely keep awake."

You poked his forehead.

"Even so, just taking notes help."

Steve nodded.

"You ready to go?" he asked, opening the passenger door.

‐----‐------------------------------

Steve's house was huge.  Definitely one of the bigger houses in Hawkins. But it almost felt like a museum. Very beautiful and clean, but sterile.  There weren't any piles of shoes or tossed coats on chairs. Even the stacks of magazines were perfectly arranged.

As you stood in the middle of the immaculate living room, Steve grabbed his backpack and yours.

"We can study here," he started, but then noticed your awkwardness. "Or we can go up to my room."

"Your parents won't mind?"

"Nah, they aren't even home. Think they are in the mountains this weekend."

You knew Steve's parents went out-of-town a lot, the parties he threw were a testament to that.  But you realized how lonely he must be. Rather than bring it up, you nodded.

"Your room sounds good," you agreed.  Steve flushed slightly at the prospect of having you alone, in his room, his parents out of the house.

"Ye-yeah. I'm gonna grab some drinks and meet you upstairs. Are you hungry, I can get some snacks too."

"Sounds great. Which room?"

"Last one, end of the hall on the right."

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

Armed with soda and snacks, and an array of meticulously highlighted notes, you began your study session with Steve.  He wasn’t as hopeless as he’d led you to believe, but he definitely was going to benefit from your help.

An hour and a half into the study session, Steve dropped his head on to his book.  He was laid out on his bed, while you were sitting at his desk.

“Please tell me we are almost done.  I think my brain is going to melt out of my skull.”

You laughed at his dramatics.

“We can take a break if you’d like,” you agreed, stretching your arms above your head.  Steve looked up and saw your sweater pull up just slightly, showing a sliver of pale skin.  He swallowed, reaching for his drink to slake his thirst.

“Is your back hurting? That chair isn’t too comfortable.  I usually just do my work on the bed,” Steve said, pushing some of his stuff out of the way.

“You can sit here, and I can use the chair,” he offered.

“Oh you don’t have to get up, I’ll just sit over here.  Plenty of space right?” you said, claiming a spot next to him against the headboard.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

As you kneeled on the bed, you didn’t take into account how soft the bed was, and nearly fell face first into Steve’s lap. He was able to catch you, his hands catching you around the waist.  His arms were tight around you, and you bit your lip to keep from letting out a squeak.

You looked up to see Steve staring down at you, his expression unreadable.

“Sorry-” you started to apologize, when Steve leaned down, his face just inches from yours.

“I really like you,” he said softly.

You sucked in air, surprised by his confession.  You didn’t move, trying to form a coherent thought.

“I really do. And I’d like to kiss you, if-”

You didn’t let him finish, but tilted your head up and kissed him softly. It was chaste, but sweet and you pulled back, your face flushing.  Even from a simple brushing of the lips, you felt like your entire body was surging with electricity.  All you wanted to do was keep kissing him.

“I like you too Steve,” you confessed, ducking your head down.  Steve was shell-shocked.  He never expected you to make the first move.  He moved one of his hands from your waist to your neck and he tilted your face up.  His fingers were gently cupping your neck, and you brought your eyes back to his.

“Can I take you on a date, a proper one?” he asked.

“No studying?” you teased.

“No studying.  Dinner, maybe a movie?”

You smiled.

“Yes.”

His face melted into one of the softest smiles you had ever seen on him.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Always.”

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

When you finally got back home, it was late.  Your mom was asleep in front of the tv and you were very quiet as you snuck past her.

You were almost to your bedroom door when Dustin’s door creaked open.

“(Y/N)?”

You shushed him, nodding down the hall to your mom.

“Are you just getting home now?”

You rubbed your arm.

“Yeah, Steve was pretty far behind, so it took awhile to catch him up.”

Dustin’s sleepy gaze sharpened as he took in your flushed face and dreamy expression.

“I knew it.  Steve is the guy from your History class that you have a crush on!” he whisper yelled in victory.

Your brow creased.

“How did you know about that?”

“Oh, it was in your di-” he stopped, realizing what he was saying.

“I mean-” he stuttered, trying to figure out how he was gonna dig himself out of the hole he was in.

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms.  Dustin shifted his weight, not sure how you were gonna kill him, but he figured he might be able to escape if worse came to worse. With a sigh, you smiled at your brother, knowing that his meddling helped Steve confess his feelings.

“Thank you baby bro,” you said, ruffling your brother’s hair.

Dustin stood still, not sure if this was ruse and you were gonna murder him in his sleep.

“Just don’t read my diary again, unless you wanna read about Steve-”

Dustin covered his ears.

“La-la-la don’t want to hear the details, thank you.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as to not wake up your mom.

“Good night Dust-Bunny,” you said, before retreating to your room and good dreams about your new boyfriend.

[whumpqin]

The Rules

Whew, this one kind of kicked my butt when I was trying to write it, but here it is! It’s currently 7AM but I’m still posting this. Hope yall are ready for some more pain :3c

Takes place after Welcome Home

Taglist! @imagination1reality0 @faewhump

Content Warnings: Pet whump, starvation and dehydration as a means of control, dehumanization, collars, muzzles, noncon touching, some parts straight up torture used as punishment, creepy / intimate whumpers, usage of knives, brief blink and you’ll miss it emetophobia warning, licking up stuff off of the ground (?), kind of monster whump I guess, and probably some other things that I forgot to tag! Just lemme know if I need to edit.

They had decided to let him rot in their basement for the day. Alone and in the dark.

When Elisha finally woke on the stone floor, muzzled and hands bound behind his back to make him immobile, he wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for the peace and quiet or be afraid of the loneliness that would inevitably set in.  He waited, minutes turning into hours, for them to come down and do whatever they were going to do to him, but they never came.

For once, he had actually felt lucky that he was a Cambion. Darkness had never been a favorite of his, but his inhuman eyes were able to just barely pierce through the unseen veil so that he could at least catch flickers of the prison that they had put him in.

Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing to look at. Besides the chains that bound him to the wall farthest from the exit, from escape, it was bare stone and wooden pillars that held the house up. Or at least, he assumed they were living in a house. He couldn’t be sure. 

He had tested how long the chains were by pacing - the only thing he could do at the given moment - and found that it wasn’t long at all. At the halfway point of the room it stopped, pulling taut and cutting off his circulation. But Elisha still paced, to feel something other than the metal lying across his skin, the strip of leather they put around his neck. He tried not to think about the collar.

And no matter how hard he tried to think about what was going on to distract himself, he still couldn’t understand why they were doing this to him. He dreaded finding out.

Elisha did, however, try. He figured this was some horrific game that they hadn’t let him in on. But Ari, the one who had drugged him, had called him a pet, talked to him like he was some sort of stupid dog, and he found himself trying to escape the fear that rattled in his skull again.

If they plan on making me their lap dog they’re going to have one hell of a fight on their hands, his instincts hissed in his ear over and over, aggressive at even the slightest provocation. Elisha always shook his head to try and get rid of those thoughts, but this one whispered over and over. He kept having to remind himself that fighting was going to get him killed by these people.

He continued to pace, continued to think. Every once in a while he stretched, extending his hands that were tied behind his back in an effort to soothe the ache that had carefully worked its way into his joints because of the strange position they were in. But no matter how hard he tried to wonder, tried to make sense of everything, he never came any closer to an answer that would satisfy him, would give him a reason why they picked him of all people.

Maybe there wasn’t an answer.

Elisha forced himself to sit, feeling the weakness in his limbs. They hadn’t given him any food or water, or anything comfortable, really. Nothing.

His shoulders slumped as he curled his tail into his own hands. There really was nothing to do but wait.

After what felt like hours, the sound of a creaking door opening alerted him. His head lifted from its lowered position to see small bits of light that peeked through the opening. Footsteps echoed down into the small room, and he soon saw two figures step down. Elisha was finally able to stare at both of the faces of his kidnappers.

Ari regarded him with a playful amusement, definitely looking down on him in a condescending way. Jer, on the other hand, seemed neutral and not nearly as interested in this as his partner seemed. He held a metal pipe that was as long as one of his legs, and Elisha felt a twisted dread in his stomach.

Ari reached up and flicked a light on. Elisha squinted as he was blinded yet again.

“Hello, pet,” they said with a bright smile. As they shifted, he saw that they were holding something behind their back. “Did you have a good nap?”

He wanted to say are you kidding me? On instinct, but his muzzle prevented any such movement.

Ari didn’t seem to notice, nor care, that he couldn’t give them an answer. “I bet you’re wondering what’s really going on, aren’t you?” They accented their words with a quick chuckle, as they reached a hand over to Jer, who placed the pipe in their hands. “Come here and kneel, and I might tell you.”

The dread curling and twisting in Elisha’s stomach dropped suddenly like a rock. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he saw Ari tap the ground in front of them. They had made the words sound so innocent, but he could tell that something sinister lied behind those eyes. He could see it in both of them.

His instincts told him both fight and flight. He wanted to get free and attack and tear them to pieces so that he could get away from here. But the bindings around his hands bit down more so than they had been, grimly reminding him of how trapped he was. Elisha took in a shaky breath as he stood up and took careful steps forward.

It felt horrible, to walk to your own demise.

The chain pulled taut, just before the place where Ari had told him to go. He tried to pull, to break it somehow, but it was too strong for him. Elisha looked to them with pleading, tearful eyes as they tapped the ground again.

There was no sympathy to be offered. “Are you not going to listen to me? Tsk, shame. And to think we could have been friends.” Ari looked to Jer with a incredulous expression. “Whatever, guess I’ll have to punish you for this, too. Kneel where you are.”

This was ruined from the start. Ari had no intentions of him even being able to obey. And now he had to just sit here and take whatever “punishment” they were going to deal out?

Everything was screaming for him to run. Elisha’s skin crawled as his instincts chastised him for kneeling, limbs twitching with a horrible panic that he just couldn’t shake. He can’t run. He couldn’t run, especially so with the air of fear that coursed through his veins so intensely that he wasn’t able to do anything but stare at the pipe as it was raised into the air.

When it came down, all he saw was stars.

Pain blossomed across his face as Elisha collapsed to the ground. Immediate regret of not doing anything racked his body much like the pain, and a low whine left his lungs through his nose. He tried to curl inwards, to protect himself somewhat, as another blow struck across his ribs. Even the thin layer of clothing that he somehow still had wasn’t enough to soften the spike of pain that echoed inside, as he felt something crack from the third blow.

Then it stopped. Elisha sat still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut in fear of what might happen, waiting for blows that never came.

It was too easy. He peeked an eye open, looking up to his captors as they both watched him carefully.

“He takes pain pretty well,” Jer commented. Then, with a small smile - which is the only expression Elisha’s seen from him thus far - he looked to Ari. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Oh, that’s great for us.” They looked back down to their target, a chilling grin on their face. “Hold still pet, there’s still more to come. Remember when you didn’t stay quiet in the car for me?” Elisha let out a muffled whimper, arms struggling from the need to defend himself as he squirmed on the ground.

Ari quickly raised the pipe and swung, catching him in the shoulder this time. It continued another two blows, hitting him in a different area each time. Elisha let out a low groan behind the muzzle, feeling aches and pains all over his body as they stood to admire their work.

There was the sound of someone whistling, and he looked up to see Ari’s smile. That damned smile.

“Oh, Jeremiah look at that. God, I wish I had a camera right now… these are the kind of moments you don’t want to forget,” they murmured, all too loud for Elisha to hear. They were talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

“Weren’t you the one who said phones were a ploy by the government to arrest ‘honest working people’?” Jer- or Jeremiah - said, raising his fingers in air quotes.

“I want a camera, not a shitty wiretap. There’s a difference.” They huffed a forceful breath, returning their gaze to Elisha, who lay motionless on the ground. He was afraid to move, lest he cause himself to hurt everywhere. He was already getting a headache. “Anyway, go ahead and take off the muzzle. I’ll go get some water.” Elisha perked up at the idea of water, swallowing as they felt the dryness in their own throat, and Ari seemed to notice, too. “Yeah? You want some water? Be a good boy for my friend here, and we’ll see about that, hm?”

Their tone was so condescending it hurt, but it could also be the aches from the impact sites of the pipe. Ari laughed as they went upstairs, high pitched and sweet and entirely not what Elisha would imagine an evil monster to make as a sound. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes and dripped to the ground as he watched Jeremiah get to his knees and lean down.

Elisha’s breath hitched as his rough fingers found the buckles on his face and began to undo them. Jeremiah thumbed over a point of impact, making him whine in pain and squirm at the discomfort.

“Stay still,” he said, voice low and commanding. Elisha nodded, fearful of what might happen should he not obey.

The muzzle was slowly drawn away off of his face, careful of the short horns that rested on his head, and laid to the side. Elisha watched it for a moment before returning his eyes to Jeremiah as he prodded the injured skin.

“Pl-please…” he begged. Elisha couldn’t reach Ari, they were too much a monster all on their own, but he figured he might as well try with Jeremiah. “Please help me… I just- I just want to go home, please…”

Jeremiah watched him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he ran his thumb over Elisha’s cheek, making him flinch from the pain. “You are home, pet.”

The hopelessness washed over him like a tidal wave, and Elisha couldn’t stop a few pained sobs from escaping him. He was trapped, like a helpless animal, with these people who wanted to do nothing good with him. He was alone.

Elisha heard Ari coming back down the steps, and Jeremiah drew away from him to set the muzzle somewhere else. They caught him before he turned away, handing the pipe over.

“I think I figured out which name we should pick,” he murmured as he took the pipe. Elisha felt another pang of fear rattle around in his chest.

“Oh? Which one?”

“Caleb. I think it fits the best.” The muted passion in Jeremiah’s voice made the ever-growing pit in his stomach grow larger.

Elisha saw Ari put a hand on their chin in thought, a glass of clear liquid in the other. Water. He felt the dryness in his throat worsen at the idea of being so close to drinking something.

“Hm, alright. I did give you the choice.” They suddenly looked at him with such an intensity it made him flinch back. “Then it’s settled! Pet, your new name is Caleb!”

“No, please,” he begged, before he could really stop himself. “Please, my, my name isn’t Caleb, it’s- ack!”

He was interrupted by his own cry of pain as Ari stamped over to him and grabbed a fistful of his hair. The smile they wore held a sadistic tinge to it, and it was entirely too close to be well meaning.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? You don’t get a choice in this.” They let go of his hair and let him fall back to the ground. Ari loomed over them, triumphant, as Elisha kept quiet, mostly out of fear. “We can do whatever the hell we want with you. Because we own you, got it?”

Fearful of what would happen if he did anything else, Elisha nodded against his own best judgement.

“Good, now you’re getting it. But not quick enough. Guess I’ll have to take your sip for you, hm?” Ari dramatically lifted the glass, taking a large gulp of water, sighing in relief. “Alright, now get up on your knees, Caleb. Maybe you can earn this water another way, hm?”

Elisha hated that name. He hated that Ari was essentially bribing him with the thought of water to get him to do whatever they wanted. He hated most of all that it worked.

With several whimpers and whines, he struggled to pick himself up off of the ground and sit on his knees again. Ari set the glass of water far out of reach, where he could still see it.

“You’ll learn to like it here, but there are rules you have to follow,” Jeremiah said. For a brief moment he wondered if he had gone through something similar with Ari, but he couldn’t be sure. The sinister glint in his eye told Elisha otherwise.

“Since this is your first time, we decided to maybe play a fun little game with you.” Ari drew something from their pocket, clicked something on it and a knife flipped out of it. “You say your rules right, and you’ll just get a little cut to remember it by. If not, Jeremiah here hits you with that pipe again.”

Elisha knew he wasn’t going to like this game. But, he didn’t want to get hit by that pipe again for going against what they wanted. He swallowed as he watched their expressions, horrifically neutral, and nodded.

“Oh-okay. I can, um… I can do that,” he murmured.

The two exchanged a look, a thousand words in the slightest twitch of expression that Elisha couldn’t read them all. The thought of not being able to know was disconcerting, especially when he wasn’t sure if it meant pain or not.

Jeremiah sat back on his heels as he looked down to Elisha. “Alright them. One. Your Masters should always be addressed as Master. Repeat it.”

Confident that he got the gist of it, he nodded. “Always, um, call you… M-Ma-” a tear slipped down his cheek as he tried to get the word out, and Jeremiah raised the pipe, “Ma-Master! Please, I said it, please don’t!”

“Wrong. You need to say it exactly, no ‘ums’ or stuttering.” Mercilessly he swung the pipe again, catching Elisha on the opposite arm. He cried out, following up with sobs of pain as he felt the ache settle under his skin. “Say it again.”

“Please… I, I don’t know, I can’t remember what you said…” He felt his chest clench as the pipe was raised again, fear coursing through his veins with every heartbeat that thudded in his ears. “Wait, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I can say it, ju-just say it again and I can repeat it, please, please don’t!”

The metal caught him across the side of the face this time, dazing him long enough that he nearly toppled to the ground. Elisha gritted his teeth in a groan as he curled inwards on an instinct to protect his body. Then he remembered Ari’s command, how they wanted him to stay on his knees. After a brief, merciful moment to collect himself, he lifted his face back up to Jeremiah.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ari lean against the side of the wall, that evil glimmer in their eyes again. With a sickening twist of his stomach, which he couldn’t tell was from hunger or fear, he realized that they were enjoying this.

Only a real devil could enjoy something like this, he wryly thought.

“Say it. Your Masters should always be addressed as Master.” Jeremiah’s expression was cold. Calculative. He was watching for a mistake to happen so that he could punish without mercy.

“My…” Elisha paused as he nearly said it again, fearful of the pipe that he held so delicately in his hands. “Masters, should… always be, ah-addressed as Master!” His voice raised as Jeremiah’s gaze narrowed, his nervous nature getting the best of him as he sped through the rest of the words.

“Not good enough. It has to be perfect.” This time it landed on the other side of his ribs, and though it glanced off of him he still felt the brief pain. Elisha cried out mostly in fear, keeling over as other aches surged in the wake of the blow. “Your Masters should always be addressed as Master.”

He took a few deep breaths, trying to remember breathing exercises he saw on the internet once. “My… Masters…” In. “should always be…” Out. “addressed as Master.”

“Good boy.” Jeremiah smiled at him. It didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced over to Ari, who moved behind Elisha.

“Very good boy,” Ari muttered, feeling his arms. “This should be a good spot.”

Something stung against his skin, and Elisha gasped and hissed in pain as a knife dug into his forearm. He forgot this part was happening, forgot that Ari mentioned being cut as a reward. Elisha squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Ari pull away.

“Two. Never question your Masters.”

At least this was easy enough. “Never… question my Masters…” Elisha’s head turned to catch a brief sight of Ari’s pale skin drawing close again.

He knew he must’ve done something good, because he felt the bite of the knife dig into his forearm again. It drew away just as quick, and he felt Ari pat him on the head.

“Your teeth look pretty when you’re in pain. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?” Ari laughed, close enough that Elisha could feel their breath hit the back of his neck, and he couldn’t help the shudder that crawled up his spine.

“Three. Do what you are told, regardless of the consequences.” He felt Ari draw away again, just slightly.

“Do… wh-what I’m told, regardless… of the… consequences.” Elisha swallowed thickly, closing their eyes. This time, he knew he messed up, especially when Jeremiah sighed in disappointment.

He heard him shift and move, and he peeked an eye open just as the metal swung and hit him in the stomach. Elisha wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, falling down to the ground as he gasped for air. He struggled to breathe through his breaking sobs of pain, resting his head on the ground for just a moment.

Getting back up was crucial in this moment, but his head hurt and moving about was like setting himself on fire and he felt like he was going to throw up from the nausea. Elisha needed to get up, he knew that, but everything hurt in ways that he never had before that he just curled up where he lay. The pipe prodded him, mocking him, and he gasped as his ribs shifted in ways they definitely weren’t supposed to.

“Get up, Caleb. Or I’m going to hit you again.” The pipe dragged across the floor, making an awful dragging sound that made Elisha cringe.

There was a pitiful whimper that sneaked out as a replacement for words that would ask for more time to recover from the hits. He just felt so weak, and trying to lift himself back up was a feat on its own. The next blow from the pipe went unprotected, and he cried out and sobbed as something else shifted in the wrong direction.

“Mm… this is already getting boring,” Ari muttered, prodding Elisha’s tail with a foot before it swept away and curled around his form. “Why don’t we trade, and cut him up until he gets it right?”

“You’re the one who suggested the pipe, Aridai. Just shut up for a minute.” Again he was prodded with the pipe, eliciting a whimper of pain from the gasping body. “Get up, Caleb.”

Without really thinking, Elisha shook his head. An admittance of defeat, to somehow say that he couldn’t do what they wanted.

He wasn’t cut out for this. He never was.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Fingers painfully tangled into his hair again, lifting him up to his knees. Aridai’s hands swept over his horns, but without any real curls to them there was no grasping them. Not yet. “Y’know, if we let these grow out, they’d make good handles or something.”

“Besides the point. Caleb,” Jeremiah appeared in his vision, waving a small hand to make sure that he was coherent. Elisha made a small whimper in return. “Good. Three. Do what you are told, regardless of the consequences. Repeat it.”

“Do… what I’m told… regardless… of the consequences…” the words were breathed out, as Elisha continued to try and get his breathing under control. He closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness fell over him, but with Ari-Aridai still holding him there was nowhere for him to go.

“Yaay, good boy!” They seemed genuinely excited as they grabbed onto his shoulder. Something small and metal was drug across the floor, and Elisha felt the painful impact of the knife slide across their skin.

“Four. Always ask for permission.”

“Always…” His mouth clamped shut as he nearly added an ‘um’ after, stopping his own blunder. He took in another deep breath to try and calm himself, even though it wasn’t helping as much now. “Ask… for permission.”

Another slice in his skin told him that he was being good. The feelings of both being relieved and horrified coiled around him as the knife drew away and he gasped for air. It felt awful that he would rather be cut than hit with a pipe, when he shouldn’t have to choose between either of them.

“Five. Always remember to thank your Masters.” Jeremiah shifted his weight, drawing the pipe across the ground. Elisha flinched into Aridai’s grip, which somehow felt cold and callous.

“Always… remember to… to thank your Masters,” he repeated after just a few short moments.

“Mm… nope, not quiet,” muttered Aridai. They let go of Elisha, who wavered and fell to the ground again.

Another hit from the pipe against his ribs, and he let out a low keen as the other aches fired up again. He just wanted to be left alone, he was much too weak for this. Even the water seemed like such a pointless goal, with all the pain that he had to endure just to get it.

You need it, his instincts whispered, clearly not understanding the situation.

“Get up, Caleb,” Jeremiah ordered above him.

He shook his head, not of defiance but of defeat once again. Elisha didn’t want to do this anymore. Just leave me alone…

“Aww… does the poor little one want to give up?” Aridai said in a mocking tone, as if he were talking to a stupid animal. It was humiliating, but he nodded his head, feeling his cheeks grow hotter than they had been. “Alright, I get it… but you have to finish your rules before we can leave.” Hands petted through his hair, and he couldn’t even fight them off. “Just be a good boy for us and it can all end that much sooner, okay? I’ll even hold you up.”

Don’t do it. They’re just trying to manipulate you. He had seen this tactic before, on TV shows he used to watch. Give in a little bit, and then they get you to do all sorts of things. Elisha closed his eyes as a lump found its way to his throat. Then he nodded.

“Good.” He was lifted up by his shoulders, and Elisha hissed as the stinging pain traveled to everywhere else that was hurting (which was just about everywhere, now.) “Go on, Jer.”

“Five. Always remember to thank your Masters.”

He swallowed. “Always… remember to… thank my Masters.” The slice of skin, signaling that he got it right.

“Six. Do not speak unless spoken to.”

“Do not speak… unless spoken to.”

“Good boy, Caleb,” Aridai muttered, digging into him once again.

This hurt. All of this hurt, from hearing these rules to saying them to the punishments and “rewards” that he was getting to the horrific praises that Ari was whispering from behind them as they carved into their arm. Elisha would cry, but he didn’t think that he had any water left in his body to do it.

To grant him just a sliver of mercy, however, he was lucky enough to be able to repeat the rest of the words.

“Never… leave the house… unless given explicit permission.”

“Pets don’t sit on the furniture.” 

“Good boy,” Jeremiah praises this time. For once Elisha is thankful to actually hear his voice, but it’s only because Aridai didn’t get to say anything.

The last cut held more relief than pain. Elisha hardly felt it, in fact, before they were suddenly pulling away from him and reappearing in his vision. Aridai held a bright smile on their face as they reached down and picked up the water. Finally. He actually perked up at the sight of it, waiting for him to approach and give him something to drink.

Aridai laughed in his face. “Oh, did you think that you were going to get this? Weren’t you the one who wanted to give up? No, I don’t think so.” They reached out to the side-

And tipped the water over so that it spilled into the floor beside Elisha.

“We’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have shaped up by then, hm?”

They turned away, reaching for Jeremiah and wrapping an arm around him like a couple of buddies would. Like they hadn’t just relentlessly tortured someone. Elisha felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the two of them walk away like they had just watched a movie.

“So, how did you like that?” Aridai asked, shaking him a little bit to expunge some of the boundless energy that they seemed to have.

“That was… amazing. I can’t wait to do it again,” Jeremiah repeated, and he caught the slightest smile on their face as they retreated upstairs.

Elisha slumped forward, nearly choking himself from the chain as the collar tugged his throat. He scooted backwards, aching and tired and still so thirsty. It all had been for nothing. His gaze traveled to the water, slowly running down the ever so slight decline that it could find. Humiliation crept in, even alone as he stared at it.

He leaned down and lapped the water off of the floor.

[pixieungerstories]

Quarantine - 3

Part 1

Part 2

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on.  I stared at the ceiling.  I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster.  Some other living thing in the house.  I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,”  I muttered to myself.  Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream.  “Fuck it.”  I got undressed and crawled under the covers.  I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over.  Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?”  I wasn’t really expecting an answer.  “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can.  I don’t want to.  I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded.  “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake.  “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut.  Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge.  “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door.  I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called.  After that they were all looking at me.  

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving.  I needed to get out of here.  I needed a smoke.  I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god.  I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am!  Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained.  “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month.  I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you.  Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.  

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress.  I should go in and at least get my robe.  It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them.  Prison wouldn’t have Nick.  Maybe I just needed a hospital.  No.  That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off.  He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped.  “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now.  You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently.  “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen.  Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee.  When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.  This is temporary.  You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall.  It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed.  I looked at it.   Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great.  Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,”  I mused.   “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day.  In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down.  They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom.  The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident.  I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal.  Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day.  No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard.  I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking.  It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it.  My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen.  I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.  

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around.  Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part.  You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy.  “Yeah.  There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around.  It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning.    I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning.  Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere.  I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth.  I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink.  Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck.  I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear.  “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly.  “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick.  Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week!  It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar.  It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything.  When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing.  I told myself it didn’t mean anything.  Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information.  I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to.  What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette.  Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then.  This was ridiculous!  Shadow monsters didn’t … do that!  They didn’t … exist.  I was just …  this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass.  I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp.  Now I was cold and damp instead.  Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles.  ‘Fine.  Whatever.  Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it.  I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France.  But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face.  “Do you like what he picked out?”  She seemed a little taken aback by the question.  “Yes?  It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install.  It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week.  I’m not exactly over run with work right now.”  She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know.  I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah.  I understand that.  I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that.   The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,”  Nancy pointed out.

“Ok.  Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling.  “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this?  You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze.  “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress.   My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg.  As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished.  I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash.  That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one.  “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted.  “I liked watching you enjoy yourself.  Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy.  Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied.  Then he added, “For either of us.  And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?”  he just sounded curious.  The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that.  I closed my eyes and he stroked my face.  “Let me watch,” he purred.  “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open.  “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure.  I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand.  And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian?  Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time.  And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked.   “I’m too damn tired!”  I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out.  “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him.   It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand.  “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one.  And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time.  That’s why I asked you not to.  But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to.  This is about trust, Nick.  I don’t trust you.  I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here.  You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death.  You could smother me with my pillow.  Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.”  I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas.  “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.”  He let go of my hand.  I turned on the light and looked around the empty house.  “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.”  It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing.  “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep.  I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch.  “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight.  I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip.  It didn’t always do that.  “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat.  He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again.  It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then.  At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.  

I wondered how you forge wine.

[captaindamnron]

Am I too late?

Modern AU. rating M.

“London is my home. London is your home. I didn’t change the plan, Rey, you did. If–” he took in a deep breath, as though steeling himself, before continuing, “If you choose to go… you’re choosing to go without me.“

Rey’s head twist and turned, searching the crowded arrival hall of the airport for her brother. She had just started to think that maybe Ben was late when she finally spotted him. A huge bright smile formed across her face as soon as she took him in. His face held the same expression hers had surely mirrored only a minute ago. He was searching the crowd for her as well, and it was obvious when he finally spotted her too, his facial expression shifting to match her big grin.

She sprinted across the hall, weaving through the crowd of people, practically shrieking in excitement when she reached him. She immediately dropped her bag to the floor and jumped into his arms. Engulfing him in a bear hug, she didn’t realize how much she missed Ben, missed everyone, and even missed London, until she finally laid eyes on him. Her family had come to visit her in Liverpool a few times over the years but she hadn’t been back to London since she left. Maybe it was the fact that she was finally home in London that made their reunion this time all that much sweeter than the ones they’d had in Liverpool.

“Gosh, Rey, have you gained weight? You weigh a ton,” Ben had gasped out from the choke hold Rey’s arms had around his neck. Rey let go of her dear brother and quickly started launching a barrage of slaps to his torso.

“Wow, I’m back for five seconds and you’re already intolerable,” she said drily as Ben quickly grabbed her hands and pulled her back in for another hug.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he laughed. “Hey, if you can’t rip on your younger sister, who can you rip on?” Ben grabbed Rey bag from the floor and lead them to where he had parked the car. “Come on,” he said as he opened the door for her, tossing her bag onto the backseat. “Let’s get a move on. Paige will kill me if you miss your dress fitting.”

Rey got caught up on everything that had been going on over the past few days leading up to the wedding on the drive. Ben had lots of stories to tell, some funny, some sweet, some utterly horrifying.

“Mom is losing her mind trying to get everything at the estate ready for the wedding, and of course dad isn’t much help, ” Ben rambles as he drives. “He suddenly has to ‘work late’” Ben continues, releasing the steering wheel for just long enough to make the accompanying air quotes. “Mind, he’s only started having to work late this past week now that all the guest have started to arrive.”

Rey just shook her head with a giggle. She wasn’t surprised that their father had been hiding away. He was never all that into the parties their family hosted over the years, and this was going to be the biggest one of them all by far.

“Both mom and dad are over the moon, though, about having all us kids back under the same roof again,” Ben went on, and the smile on his face made it obvious that he was looking forward to it as well.

“I’m rather excited too, actually.” Rey admitted, matching his smile. “I haven’t slept in my old room since high school. It will be so much fun having you right down the hall again.” Rey said smiling back over at Ben.

Rey knew they were only a few minutes away from the dress shop when she decided to face the elephant in the room, or, in this case, the car. Looking out the passenger window, Rey finally asked, “So I’m guessing Poe and Finn are your groomsmen, no? How are they doing anyway?”

Ben looked from the road over to Rey. Just like she knew he would hence why she was now trying to hiding the blush rising to her cheeks. Ben knew Poe had to be on Rey mind but was surprised she actually brought him up.

“Yeah, they are," Ben paused momentarily, "Poe’s the best man, of course.”

“Of course,” Rey echoed, trying to act as cool as she could about it.

“Both are doing well,” Ben continued, “Finn has been working with dad at the office for a couple years now, and Poe actually just got promoted to an actual pilot’s position.”

Rey just nodded her head in response, unsure what to say, unsure what would even come out of her mouth if she attempted to speak. Even just hearing about Poe set her heart beating rapidly, her palms breaking out in a sweat. He shouldn’t be able to affect her like this still, the mere mention of his name shouldn’t affect her like this, and yet...

That’s when Ben let the bomb drop, “They will both be over at the house tonight,” Ben said in a voice that aimed and failed at being nonchalant. “Mom and dad invited the wedding party, as well as those from Paige’s and our extended family that are in town over for a little engagement party of sorts. A way for everyone to get acquainted, I guess, since we’re all finally together.” He kept glancing over at her to see what, if any, reaction she had to that.

Rey wouldn’t stop looking out the window, though. She knew Ben could read her like a book, and she didn’t want him to see just how much that news had affected her. This was it; she was indeed going to be seeing Poe in a matter of hours in her childhood home. The house they shared their first kiss in, the house they first... she stopped herself there, couldn’t bear to bring up those memories.

Luckily, Rey’s plan to wait till they were close to the dress shop to ask about Poe worked. They were already pulling up next to the shop. Rey quickly turned and gave Rob a kiss on the cheek and was out the door as fast as she could manage.

“Thanks for the ride,” she called over her shoulder, “see you tonight.”

Ben barely got an “okay, see you later,” out before she had shut the door and hurried into the shop.

The fitting went great. Unlike Ben had suggested, she had not gained weight and the measurements she sent to the seamstress were perfect, and there was no need for extra alterations. Rey did her best throughout the appointment to focus on Paige, and on catching up with her and very decidedly not thinking about Poe. Once they were finished, Paige took off to go meet her family for lunch, and Rey headed home.

As soon as she pulled up the driveway of her parent’s estate, Rey’s spirits were lifted. She was home. Oh, how she had missed it here. She hadn’t known one could miss a place this much.

Rey was a little disappointed that her mother wasn’t home when they got there. She had left a note for them that she was out running errands and would be back later.

“God, my room seems so much smaller than I remember,” Rey bellowed across the hall.

Looking and wandering through her old room, she realized and remembered the person she was when younger and how she has changed. At the time, Rey was a young teenager with an ambition to build cars and rockets, but it was during her apprenticeship with Master Kenobi she realized, essentially, what she liked best about anything that could involve technology and engines was maintenance and improvement of what already existed.

Not that she thought evolution or discovery of new technologies was a bad thing, but society had already created so many good and useful things, there should be more people trying to take advantage of what already existed to advance.

“You could always quit,” Master Kenobi once said.

However, Rey couldn’t help but feel that she had given up so much to work for Master’s Kenobi project already. How could she admit it was a mistake now? Then losing all that she had would be for nothing.

“I could come home and open that chop shop like I always wanted,” Rey gushed.

Rey laughed at that. She missed being close to her family. She always felt like she was missing out. The truth was the choice to come home might have been an easier one if it wasn't for Poe. She missed him; maybe even more than she missed her family, but, then again, he was her family to once upon a time. She didn’t know if she could be this close to Poe all the time, and still not be able to actually be with him. She didn't think going back to being friends like in high school was an option for her either. Or, even worse, seeing him with someone else. Just the thought of him with someone else made her nauseous.

“Are my princess up there?” Rey smiled.

Rey spent the next hour sitting around the kitchen island with her father.

“Surprised you could get out of the office so early today, dad. I heard you have been busy the last couple weeks.” Rey couldn’t help but tease her father. Han smiled and put his arm around his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, I just couldn’t resist coming home early and seeing my baby girl now could I.” He answered.

Rey felt like she was on cloud nine. This is what she had been missing in Liverpool. Just as she thought she couldn’t feel happier, she heard her mother’s voice coming from down the hall.

“Han, are you home? Can you help me bring the bags from the car?” Rey turned in her chair just as her mother was coming into the kitchen and saw her.

Her mother paused on the spot.

“Rey!” was all she said as she walked closer, arms outstretched, ready to embrace her daughter.

--

Rey didn’t give Ben a chance to say anything more about the fact that Poe would be at their house tonight before she rushed out of the car. Ben, for his part had a pretty good inkling that she purposely waited till they were close to the dress shop before asking about Poe. He knew she was hoping that if her emotions got the best of her, she would be able to make a quick getaway. He didn’t need to see Rey’s face to know she was rattled though. He knew his sister, probably better than anyone, and it was written all over her l, and after the way Poe reacted last night, just to the mere mention of Rey’s name, he knew this weekend was going to be hard for both his sister and best friend. He couldn’t worry about that right now though, he was already running behind, and knew Poe would be waiting for him.

Poe appeared to be patiently waiting on his porch as Ben pulled into his driveway.

“You’re late,” was the only thing Poe said as he got in the passenger seat, clearly he was less patient then Ben expected him to be.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I stopped for coffee on my way here after I dropped Rey off, and then I got stuck in a long line. ” Ben hoped his explanation would be enough to get him off the hook. “I got you one though, black, just the way you like it.” Ben sounded like a spouse trying to garner their partners forgiveness.

“Thanks,” was Poe’s only response, taking the coffee from Ben.

“Oh brother, this should be fun." Ben muttered to himself rolling his eyes, putting the car in reverse to get them on there way.

The drive to the jewelry store was a pretty quiet one. Poe couldn’t stop thinking about how Rey had just been sitting in the very seat he was in now, just a few minutes earlier. She was in a dress shop, just a few blocks away. Rey was so close, yet felt farther away from him then she had ever been. Even more now than she did when she first left for Liverpool. Poe couldn’t help the flood of emotions that had came roaring to the surface since Ben mentioned Rey last night. He had done so well pushing them aside the past three years, but now, having her back in town, he couldn’t hide from his feelings anymore. Poe hadn’t even seen her yet, and she was already invading all his thoughts, he couldn’t think straight. He shook his head, as if the act itself could stop all the memories, all the feelings that were consuming him. Not now, he scolded himself, this weekend was about Ben, his friend was getting married, and he wasn’t going to ruin any part of it for him.

--

Ben leaned on the counter drumming his fingers on the ledge, impatiently waiting for the jeweler to come back with Paige’s and his rings. He looked over to where Poe stood, his arms crossed looking aimlessly around the store. Fuck it, he thought, he was going to go ahead and broach the Rey topic again. Poe couldn’t escape this time.

“So, have you thought about what you’re going to say to Rey when you see her tonight?” Ben asked him point blank.

Poe’s head snapped over to where Ben was standing, he thought Ben had gotten the hint last night, this wasn’t a topic of conversation he was interested in. “Um, how about hi…… how’s it going?” How does that sound?” Poe sounded cross, throwing his arms in air as if to say, what gives.

“Oh come on man, let’s not pretend like this isn’t going to be awkward for everyone. Rey looked like she was going to jump out of her skin when I told her you were coming over tonight. So don’t worry, you’re not the only one that’s more than a little nervous.” Ben decided perhaps just this once it wouldn’t hurt to share some intel on his sister with Poe.

Poe didn’t expect to hear that, not just because Ben usually made pretty good efforts not to tell him thing Rey and him discussed, but also because he didn’t think Rey would be all that bothered by his presence. She was the one that left him, after all. She was the one that took off for Liverpool without a second thought, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

Before Ben had a chance to say anything more about it the jeweler finally came back with Ben and Paige’s rings. Putting an end to the conversation once again.

Ben pulled into Poe’s driveway putting the car in park. “Here, make sure you put these someplace safe, and don’t forget them on Saturday!” Ben emphasized the seriousness of these directions by shaking the ring box in front of him as he spoke.

“Don't worry about it, what's the best men for,” Poe reassured him as he took the rings from Ben's clutches, and put them in his coat pocket.

“Well now that you mentioned it, the best man is responsible for planning the bachelor party, but since both Rey, and you, failed miserably in that regard, Paige and I went ahead and planned our own.” Ben was guilting Poe into excepting the change in plans for the evening. “So, wear something nice tonight, will yeah? We're all going out once we've mingled with the old folks long enough.” Ben added, raising his voice slightly when Poe started stepping out of the car.

Poe laughed, and nodded his head so Ben knew he heard him loud and clear. “Alright man, I’ll see you later.”

--

Rey came downstairs once she started to hear guest arriving. Paige had informed her that they would be going out for a co bachelor/bachelorette party after the more formal affair of bringing the two families together was over, so to make sure she dressed accordingly. Not that Rey really needed the excuse to dress up. It was common knowledge that when you know you’re going to be seeing your ex, you make sure you dress to impress, and let them know exactly what they’ve been missing. Not that Rey thought Poe might still be missing her, not like she had been missing him.

She wore her hair down in soft curls, and a form fitting little black dress she had. As she made her way through the kitchen she could hear the crowd of people gathering in the backyard. Having no idea whether Poe was out there yet or not gave Rey pause. She grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter that was out for arriving guests, took a deep breath, and headed outside. Here goes nothing she told herself.

As Rey walked through the party the tension that had been building in her shoulders started to dissipate once she had realized Poe was still absent. She headed over to the bar her mother had arranged, and ordered another drink. The champagne she had come outside with now long gone. She knew she would need some liquid courage to get through the night. She was standing at the bar waiting for her drink when suddenly her body jolted forward with a slap, someone had just slapped her ass.

Leia and Han were talking to Paige’s grandmother when Rey made her way over to them. “Rey, sweetheart, could you please run to the kitchen and grab me some club soda and a cloth? I seemed to have spilled a bit of wine on my dress." Leia asked her daughter.”

“Of course mom, no problem, I’ll be right back,” Rey replied with a smile.

--

Poe drove up the Solos driveway pulling his car in beside Finn's, who had just arrived himself a moment earlier. Poe stomach was doing back flips, he had been to the Solos house more times than he could count, he had even been there plenty of times since him and Rey broke up. This place was like a second home to him growing up. He remembered how his mother was sick a lot when he was young, before she passed away of cancer when he was nineteen, and The Solos took him in a lot to help his mother as much as they could. What made this time so different? He knew the answer though, this time, Rey was going to be in there, and she wasn’t his anymore.

Finn tapped on Poe’s driver side window breaking him out of the trance he was in. “You coming?" Finn asked, as if Poe should have already gotten out of his car by now.

“Yea I’ll be right there,” Poe said lifting his hand, telling Finn to go ahead without me.

Finn nodded, and headed towards the house.

Poe took a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He sucked in a deep breath blowing it out hard, “here goes nothing,” he told himself, tugging his fingers through his hair before he got of the car and made his way up the house.