#blanke thrown light was turned on and I was halfway down the stairs before I woke up a little more

[sweetest-honeybee]

God I hate night terrors, it’s waking up in fucking fight or flight over something that isn’t even there 😣

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

Wake up sleepy head

Scorbus prompt from @abi-the-gay (sorry if I missed any details). Albus sneaks off to Malfoy Manor after a nightmare, and he and Scorpius get caught by Draco walking in on them asleep together the next morning.

A flash of green light exploded in front of Albus’s eyes, and her face... her face grinned right back at him.

She was holding something, no... someone. Her arms were wrapped around a blonde boy, long fingers creeping towards his neck, like vines. Scorpius. She had Scorpius. Albus tried to scream, to yell, to call out Scorpius’s name, but no sound came out. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t stop her from pulling out her wand and pressing it to Scorpius’s temple. Albus looked into the boy’s grey eyes, desperate and pleading. And all he could do was watch.

“Avada Kedavra!” Another flash of green light bursting into his bedroom as Albus suddenly lay awake, panting, sweating, terrified.

Scorpius. Where was Scorpius? Everything Albus had seen had felt so real, so vivid. His stomach dropped as he had the sudden, awful thought: what if it was real?

He sat up in bed, his mind running at a mile an hour. He had to see Scorpius. Now. Sending a letter would take too long. He wanted to see his... he wanted to see Scorpius.

It was still late, dark out. Everyone was fast asleep. No one would notice if he snuck downstairs and used the floo network to visit Malfoy Manor.

Albus didn’t risk turning the lights on; he knew his house like the back of his hand, so he managed to reach the living room fireplace with little mishap. Albus took a handful of floo powder from the pot beside the stokers. The fire had long since died out, but the coals were still hot enough for the powder to work.

“Malfoy Manor!” Albus instructed, as loudly as he could without alerting the rest of the house, which still left his voice barely above a whisper. He hoped he wouldn’t get splinched on the way there.

Green flames erupted around him, and he had to close his eyes; too reminiscent of his nightmare. Of Delphi. Of Scorpius.

Before he knew it, he was thrown out the other side of the floo network, regaining his balance on the polished floor of Malfoy Manor. It was dark. Quiet. Was that a good sign? Or a bad sign? Albus wasn’t sure whether he wanted to find out or not.

But he had to. He couldn’t leave without making sure Scorpius was alright.

And that’s when he suddenly realised: he had no idea where Scorpius’s bedroom was. And it was a big house. He could be searching all night.

Albus began on the next floor up, up the large, winding staircase. The first few rooms were rather sparse, uninhabited, and one of them- which made Albus hold his breath upon entering- was Draco’s room. Albus closed the door behind him as silently as he could.

He stood for a moment and pondered his next move, soon spotting a door at the far end of the hallway. As he drew nearer, he noticed some sort of trinket hanging from the doorknob, a kind of lucky charm perhaps. Scorpius was relatively superstitious. This must have been his room.

Albus slowly opened the door, his heart beating faster in trepidation at what he might find. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a figure underneath the covers of a bed, in the middle of the room.

“Scorpius?” Called Albus in a whisper. “Scorp!”

The figure moved, turned around, and switched on the oil lamp beside his bed. The light illuminated the faces of the two boys, and Albus was so relieved to see Scorpius alive and well- if a little perplexed- that he almost started shaking. Scorpius noticed his slightly panicked disposition.

“Albus, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?” Scorpius was clearly concerned, and Albus felt bad for waking him up. Of course it was just a dream, you idiot.

“I’m sorry, I just... I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“Another nightmare?” Albus nodded. Scorpius moved over and opened up the covers.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked, and Albus gladly accepted, thankful that Scorpius didn’t ask anymore questions, such as how he had got there or what the nightmare was about. He simply let Albus snuggle up beside him and settle into his arms, exhaustion washing over both of them.

“I can read if you want?” Scorpius suggested, a murmur in Albus’s ear.

“That would be nice.” Scorpius reached over Albus to pick up a book from his bedside table.

“It’s a muggle book,” Scorpius explained. “Rose sent it to me a few weeks ago. I’m already halfway through, but I’ll start again from the beginning.” Albus tried to listen, really he did, but as soon as Scorpius started speaking, his soft, calm voice meeting Albus’s ear, Albus immediately felt his eyes start to close.

“This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald,” began Scorpius, and within moments, Albus was fast asleep.

————

The following morning, Draco was sat at the dining table in his dressing gown, sipping his morning coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. He was about to check on Scorpius, thinking it odd that his son wasn’t up yet. Scorpius was usually awake way before him, a morning person through and through.

Draco finished his coffee, folded up the newspaper, and began his ascent up the flight of stairs towards Scorpius’s room. Reaching Scorpius’s door, he knocked lightly, receiving no reply. Draco was starting to get worried now, so he allowed himself to enter.

His son wasn’t alone.

Scorpius opened his eyes as he entered, and froze. He tried to nudge awake the sleeping figure beside him.

“Al. Albus, wake up,” he whispered frantically. Albus? Thought Draco. Albus Potter? Albus groaned lightly, and mumbled something inaudible. Never had Draco felt so awkward in his life, and he coughed nervously, finally alerting the boy beside Scorpius.

Albus turned around- and Draco could see that it was indeed Albus Potter- and immediately turned back, facing away from Draco and burying his face in Scorpius’s chest, muttering something about not being able to deal with anything today.

“Dad, I can explain...” Scorpius began, but Draco interjected.

“How about I leave you two for a moment and you can explain downstairs.” Scorpius nodded gratefully, and Draco left the two in peace, heading back to the dining room and trying to process what he’d just seen.

————

Ten minutes later, and two fifteen year old boys were sitting awkwardly in front of Draco, both of them avoiding eye contact with him.

“So...” Draco began. “Are you two...?” He sort of gestured between the two of them, hoping they’d fill in the blanks.

“We’re together,” confirmed Scorpius.

“Right...” Draco didn’t know how to feel. He wanted to be supportive of his son of course, but a Potter and a Malfoy? Who would have thought it? It would certainly take some time to wrap his head around the idea.

“So that means you’re...”

“Gay?” Draco nodded. “Yeah, I am...” Scorpius finally made eye contact with his father, and Draco noted how terrified he looked.

“Alright. That’s fine, Scorp. I love you no matter what.” Scorpius looked at him disbelievingly, which sent a pang of hurt through Draco’s chest.

“Really?” He asked, hopefully.

“Of course! You’re my son, and I’m proud of you.” Scorpius smiled at him, clearly relieved.

“So how did you two... how did you two become a thing?”

“Oh, um...” Albus coughed nervously.

“Well, it was after the whole Delphi thing,” began Scorpius. “You see we... we had a lot of nightmares, and we would calm each other down.” Scorpius fiddled with his sleeves.

“Is that why Albus was here?” Prompted Draco. They both nodded in unison.

“Yeah, and we’d read to each other,” Albus continued. “Stuff that Rose would get from the library and lend to Scorpius.”

“And I suppose it just went from there. Started out as platonic, and... became romantic.”

“So you both knew you liked each other?” Draco knew he was being too personal, but this was the first time Scorpius had ever really opened up to him, and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“I liked Scorpius, because he was nice to me, especially when I’d fallen out with dad.”

“And I saw Albus shirtless once, and I just knew-” Albus snorted, immediately stifling a laugh. Scorpius too was holding in a smile. Draco just raised his eyebrows, letting the two have their own inside joke, before continuing.

“Well, you both have my blessing,” Draco concluded. “Thank you for telling me Scorpius. Even if you didn’t have much of a choice.” Scorpius nodded in acknowledgement. “And, Albus. I take it your parents don’t know where you are?” Albus suddenly remembered what time it was, and his eyes widened.

“No, you’re right. I need to get back.”

“I’ll see you off,” said Scorpius. They all stood up. Albus left the room to return to the fireplace in the living room, leaving Scorpius and Draco alone for a moment.

“Your mother would be proud too, you know,” said Draco, his voice softer than before. Scorpius looked at him, grey eyes meeting grey. Draco hadn’t even noticed that they were almost the same height now. How had that happened?

“You really think so?”

“Of course. All she wanted was for you to be happy. And I take it you are?” Scorpius nodded.

“I am. Really.”

“Then she would be proud.” Scorpius smiled, paused for a second, and then closed the gap between them. For a few moments, they hugged in silence. Unfamiliar, but nice. Draco was glad to have his son back.

[thewatermelloncat]

Choosing Families

Summary: After a fight with her family, Reader who is a close friend of Finn Shelby’s, finds herself out in the rain with only one place in mind to go.

Author’s Note: Set at any point you like within the seasons.

Warnings: None

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

The streets are next to empty with few men sheltering from the rain under their coats. Some laugh at their misfortune, others spit curses at their bad luck while they just try and make it home from the factories. A clap of thunder rolls overhead and a few of them hit the ground in an old habit picked up from France.

Narrowly you avoid tripping over one of them, not paying attention to where you are going. Taking pity on him you prepare to reach down and help him up, but other men haul him back to his feet before you can extend your hand. Choosing not to interfere you continue past them, brushing your sopping hair from your face.

Perhaps you had chosen to leave the house at one of the worst times possible, in the dead of night and under the fall of rain. Though it’s not that you planned to leave; your feet did funny things when you were angry. An argument with your parents had turned bad quickly and before you knew it you were out the door. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the street that you thought it would be best to turn back. But it was too late and your feet continued forward.

Lights reflect in puddles on the gravel, illuminating the way to the Garrison across the street. With a shiver you cross your arms, wishing that you had on a coat. The lure of the overlapping voices and clinking glasses draw your eyes as you walk past. Longingly, you wonder if you’d be allowed inside. But part of it feels hopeless: some bars don’t serve unaccompanied females, and it’s not like you had any money on you anyway.

Still, maybe you could slip inside for a bit of warmth. The crowd at the Garrison know you well from your frequent visits with the Shelby family. Surely, they’d let you inside. But then you remember something Finn had told you: that you were welcome at the Shelby household at any time.

Part of you had always been wary of the offer but now you wanted to test the limit of your friendship with the youngest Shelby and take him up on his promise. Besides, you had nowhere better to go.

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

It was a short walk from the Garrison with the Shelby household already in sight. You swallow deeply in anticipation as you hop up the few steps to the front door before knocking on the weathered wood. From inside you hear muffled footsteps rush and then come to a stop on the other side of the door. With a quick turn of the handle the door is swung open to reveal Tommy pointing a gun in your face.

“Bloody hell!” you yelp as you stumble backward, jumping back down the stairs from the door.

Tommy breathes out a sigh of relief as he holsters the gun, seeing that you aren’t a threat.

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable. Of course, you shouldn’t have shown up in the dead of night when that’s when the shady people come knocking.

“Who is it?” you faintly hear Polly’s voice from inside.

“It’s just y/n” Tommy steps back to look at her from where she is assumably around the corner in the betting shop.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come this late” you hang your head looking down at your shoes in the dirt. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

Tommy ignores you in favour of listening to Polly, “bring her in.”

Before you can turn away from the house Tommy steps outside and takes you by the shoulders. “Come inside” he welcomes, gently guiding you into the house. By the time the door has been shut behind you, Polly has joined you in the kitchen.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” she asks. “Without a coat, no less.”

“I uh…” you falter a little as you try and string words together. “I didn’t actually plan on leaving the house.”

“Come on, never mind that” Polly moves on for the moment, taking your hand and pulling you through the house. “Ada’s not around but we’ll go find you one of her dresses and get you warmed up.”

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

For all their reputation as cutthroat criminals, the Shelby family is very hospitable. After taking you into Ada’s room Polly had thrown you a towel and a dress before turning her back to give you privacy as you changed.

“It’s your family again isn’t it?” she says from behind you.

You’d heard on many accounts the family saying that Polly is very good at reading people. It comes as no surprise that they were all correct. “Yes” is all you tell her.

“Was it your choice to leave or did they decide for you?” she asks and for anything you’re grateful that she is being direct and not tiptoeing around it.

“I chose, but I hadn’t planned it before my feet were out the door.”

“Happens to the best of us free spirits, doesn’t it?” she muses as you finish doing up the last button on the dress.

“That would be a nice thing to hope.”

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

The old wooden chair isn’t the most comfortable thing you’ve sat on but it is nice in front of the fire.

“Here, take this, love” Polly draws you out of your thoughts as she hands you a steaming mug of tea.

“Thank you” you say quietly before the door opens.

The voices of Arthur and John bickering about something cut off when John registers you sitting by the fire place wrapped up in the blanket Polly had found for you. “Look what the cat dragged in” he teases, no doubt in reference to your wet hair.

“Enough” Polly commands. “She’s had a rough night. Be nice.”

Instantly John’s playful expression drops and he and Arthur quieten down, becoming more subdued to match the mood.

“You know if there is anyone who needs dealing with, you can tell us” Arthur offers as he had a few times before. You’d always turned him down but before you can turn him down again Tommy comes down the stairs with Finn trailing behind him.

“Y/n?” Finn double takes despite Tommy having already told him you were here.

You only smile slightly at him in greeting as Tommy makes his way to his brothers across the room. “Was an agreement met?” he asks, keeping his voice low for the sake of you and Finn in the room.

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Arthur gesture for Tommy to lean in before whispering a few things in his ear while he listens patiently. Keeping his expression blank Tommy straightens up before turning to his Aunt. “Pol, we’re going to need you on this one” he says before he and the older boys file from the kitchen into the betting shop.

Polly sighs a little, not seeming surprised by the outcome. Though before she leaves, she turns to Finn. “If this goes late make sure to set her up in Ada’s room so she has somewhere to sleep.”

And with that she disappears shutting the doors to the betting shop behind her.

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

The room suddenly feels empty with all the adults gone. Finn had pulled up a chair next to you after his Aunt had left, but for the moment he says nothing. Though the silence allows you to sip away at the warm cup of tea clutched between your hands, listening to the crackling fire in front of you.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” It always amazes you how different Finn is from his brothers, who would all demand an answer instead.

“I don’t know what to say” you admit. “I don’t really remember what happened.”

“But it was bad wasn’t it?” Finn checks rather than asks. “Tommy said that you hadn’t planned on leaving the house.”

You hum quietly in confirmation instead of finding proper words.

“And that he nearly shot you” Finn adds, smiling at you.

You can’t help but laugh at the memory. But the smile on your face doesn’t last long before it drops.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Finn’s smile drops as well.

“No” you’re quick to answer. “I’m sorry, it’s just” – you cut yourself off with a scoff before continuing. “It’s just ironic that I’m over here and it’s the exact place that my parents don’t want me to be.”

“There are worse places around” Finns smirks.

“I know, Finn. I know” you repeat before you break away with a yawn.

“You must be tired” Finn acknowledges.

You sigh out a long breath.

“Come on, we’ll set you up in Ada’s room” he says standing up.

Without much energy to argue you follow him up the stairs.

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

“I can change the sheets if you like” Finn offers, stopping in the doorway of Ada’s room as you walk inside.

“It’s fine” you dismiss, kicking off your shoes before placing them down below the foot of the bed.

“If you need anything, just ask someone” Finn tells you. “Tommy or Arthur will probably be up till the morning” he seems to say more to himself.

“I’ll be fine, Finn” you repeat, sitting down on the bed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight” he seems to murmur on instinct, turning around from the door before pausing and turning back. “Y/n?” he asks nervously but doesn’t wait for a reply, “you know we can’t choose our families.”

“I know, Finn” you smile at him warmly. “You can’t choose your family any more than I can choose mine.”

[booksandseventeen]

School Project with Tsuki

☾ ☽Tsuki X Reader! ☾ ☽

The teacher stood with her hands on her hips, looking every student in the eye, “This next project is worth 50% of your grade.”

The classroom groaned. 

“You will be partnered up and during these last 6 weeks of school, you must go to 6 places neither of you have ever been before. Search the wonders of Miyagi and write a paragraph for each place you visit.” The teacher claps her hands together, “Consider this a great experience you can enjoy outside of school, as long as the places you visit was informational, I dont care where you go.” 

Tsuki sighed, his fingers twitching to put on his headphones and drone out the rest of this dreadful project. Partnered project were his least favorite part about school, but at least he could just tag along while Tadashi did the work, he could practically feel his friend vibrating with excitement behind him.

“Oh and before I forget, your partner will be the person that sits to the left of you~!” 

Tsuki blinked before glancing to the left. 

Empty. Of course his partner wasn’t even at school today. He raked his brain to try and think who sat to the left of him but he kept drawing a blank.

“Tsukishima, your partner isn’t here today but I trust that you can bring her the needed materials and tell her about the project, hm?” The teacher walked to his desk and set down a binder filled with information.

He pushed his glasses up, “Tch, what a burden.”

☾ ☽

“tell your partner I said hi!” Tadashi waved goodbye as they went their own ways, Tadashi to go home and Tsuki to visit your house, a torn out piece of paper with your address written on it. The paper fluttered in the wind and he sighed before continuing on.

The gate creaked when he opened it, weeds sprouted from the ground and a gnome broken in half welcomed him as he stepped on the overgrown stepping stones that led to your home. 

He knocked on the door and took a wary step back, unsure of who would answer the door. 

“COME IN!” The scream made him jump and he looked behind him almost as if the yell was meant for someone else.

He narrowed his eyes, felt his fingers tighten on the binder. All he wanted to do was drop off the stupid papers and hope his partner was fine with doing the project by themselves. 

Slowly, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The lights blinded him, a tv was playing on a random channel, a radio station played some sort of upbeat tune and he heard the thumping of feet above his head.

“up here!” the voice came from above. 

He took one more glance around before taking the steps two at a time, the hallway was just as lit as the living room, every door he passed had the lights on and he finally stopped behind the only closed door, music playing from a speaker somewhere inside.

The door opened, “Mom, did you-” she stopped suddenly. 

Tsuki stared down at the girl in front of him, she wore an oversized sweatshirt and joggers. Her hair was piled up on top of her hair. She leaned against the door frame, “You’re not mom.”

“Do I look like your mom?” he deadpanned

“Well, you got the condescending look down.” she smirked, “You’re in my class, what are you doing here?” she crossed her arms and looked him up and down. 

“Here.” He pushed the binder into her hands, “We’re partners for a project in school. It’s all in there, due in 6 weeks.” He turned to leave. 

He got as far as halfway down the stairs when the shock wore off and she thundered down after him.

“wait wait wait! You come to my house, tell me that we are partners for a project, and you expect me to do it all my myself?” She slides down the banister until she stops in front of him, making him come up short. 

“what else needs to be explained, shorty?” he looked down his nose at her. 

“You’re gonna pull your weight with this project, jolley green giant.” 

his frown deepened. “I don’t do partner projects.” 

She smiled up at him, “let me get my jacket.”

“what for?” he called after her.

“Because we might as well start now! You can borrow my sisters bike!”

☾ ☽ Week 1

It was on the tip of the tongue. Questions upon questions, but he bit his tongue, he refused to talk first. Instead the words just tumbled over and over again in his head. 

She biked beside him, a green jacket thrown over her hoodie and her bag thrown across her body. The full moon was the only light they had and the summer wind threw back her hair and he glanced at her to find that her eyes were closed. She was the most peaceful when her eyes were closed. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, the silence.

“Where are we going? You know we have school tomorrow.” his voice seemed unnaturally loud.

she looked over at him, the moon causing her eyes to seem brighter than usual “you’ll see.” 

Finally, they came to an overlook and parked their bike under a sakura tree. 

The ground crunched beneath their feet as they came to a railing. Tsuki stopped short and she reached up to close his mouth with her fingertip. 

It was a 360º view of Sanriku, the rhododendrons flowers blanketed the side of the mountain for as far as the eye could see, the sweet smell of flowers overwhelmed him.

she leaned with her elbows on the railing. “You know whats cool? These flowers are actually a blushing pink color. But at night, under the moon, they almost look violet.” she looked up at him. 

“some things look different in the dark.”

☾ ☽ Week 2

He woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, without thinking he blindly searched for it and answered, before he even brought it to his ear he could hear the notes of music.

“hey! you’re awake, skyscraper?”

“What the hell do you want, hobbit?” he grumbled and blinked blearily at his alarm clock, “it’s almost 2 am.” 

“Well I have another idea for our next location! But we gotta do it now, we can get in for free under the cover of night.” 

he could just imagine her. Walking up and down her room, lights on and music playing, twirling her hair around her finger, probably looking for a hoodie.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes! I’ll come pick you up after I find a hoodie.....”

☾ ☽

“Are you kidding?” he deadpanned.

“What? it’s perfect! Now help me push this thing.” she bent down and grabbed the end of the kayak, moving it only a couple of inches before she gave him a pointed look.

Sighing, he bent down and helped her move the kayak until it was even with the dock and she could jump in. 

“Come on! This is a two person thing.” 

“Why did I let you talk me into this?”

the moon reflected her profile into the still water, a fish flicked the surface and her face rippled. He took a step into the kayak.

She smiled at him and tossed him a paddle.

They glided through the water, him paddling on the right and she on the left. He sat behind her, his legs splayed on either side of her so he could fit. 

Again, the silence bothered him.

“Do you ever sleep?” he asked suddenly.

If he wasn’t paying so much attention to her he would have noticed her back stiffen. 

“why do you think I dont?” 

He shrugged but realized she probably couldn’t see that. “Oh I don’t know, maybe because you always seem to be up in the middle of the night, I’ve never seen your house without any lights on.”

She stops paddling but he keeps going. He can’t see her face, and for once, he wishes she would turn around.

“I...just don’t like to sleep.”

“who doesn’t like to sleep?”

she picks up the paddle again, disrupting the surface one stroke at a time. “someone who has too many dreams.” 

☾ ☽ Week 3

It was a Saturday night and he hadn’t heard from her all week. He turned off his computer and looked at his phone. This was peak time that she should be calling him, but what if she didn’t call? Then they would be a week behind the project. He paced his room, his phone clenched in his hand. He clicked on the buttons angrily.

No answer. He tossed his phone on the bed and laid down. Ten minutes later he was pacing again. He cursed and grabbed his phone and jacket. Silently making his way out of his house.

☾ ☽

*tap, tap tap*

She awoke with a start, her lights momentarily blinding her before he realized where she was at. She leaned out of her window and stared down at Tsuki, his arm cocked back to throw another rock.

“what are you doing?” she half whispered half yelled.

“Tch, idiot, I don’t want to be behind on the project so grab your hoodie and come on.” he walked away, leaving her to stare at him open mouthed. 

“where are we going?” she asked him as they grabbed their bikes and walked down the road. 

“you didn’t answer your phone.” he said, ignoring her question. 

“I had it on mute, hoping to catch a few Z’s.”

Immediately he felt bad, he had woken her up. But then he remembered that she had also woken him up before as well. “i’m sorry.” he heard himself say anyway.

She shook her head, her hair piled on top of her head, “don’t be. I’m thankful you woke me up, I was just starting to dream.” 

the rest of the ride was in silence until he finally brought them to their next location.

“a park.” she said with a smile, getting off her bike the rest of the way.

Before them lay a green field, a playground that was surrounded by strange, different styles of twisting metals and granite rocks chiseled to reveal a figure.

“A statue park.” he corrected, “artists all over Miyagi enter their statues and art in hopes of getting picks to have it displayed here.” 

Together they walked through the swaying grass, the silver of moon casting the statues faces into grimaces and sneers. She shook her head in wonder as they walked among the stones and metal.

“I like this one!” she said, pointing at a woman with a ring of drums around her that acted like a skirt. Tsuki watched as she played an offbeat tune on the statue. He laughed.

“look over there!” she suddenly pointed and grabbed his hand, running towards an exhibit. He looked down at their joined fingers, his large palm easily overwhelming her small one. He tightened his fingers. 

A large, plush cushion lay suspended in the air by a steel tractor type, a gossamer fabric hung over the top. The two of them climbed into it. “I think i’m supposed to unlatch something.” he heard her say, but he was too busy looking at the fabric laid over top. 

faint, dark lines were carefully drawn through the fabric, making it so that he could see the constellations in the sky. There was a loud click and he was suddenly thrown on his back as the large cushion suddenly swung in the air.

“WOOHOO!” he looked over to see her wobbling on her legs, the air rushing to meet her face.

“this is so cool!” she gasped, and slowly made her way over to him as the cushion swayed like a pendulum. She laid down beside him, her head on the his shoulder and his arm immediately went around her. 

“Im afraid to fall asleep.” she whispered after they had been laying down together for while, he had honestly thought she had fallen asleep.

“go ahead.” he grunted, he felt her shake his head.

“I can’t...I might dream.”

“what do you dream about?”

“...someone.”

he tightened his hold on her. “It’s just a dream, if it looks like your dreaming, i’ll wake you up.” he promised. his lips brushed against her hair, not hard enough for her to feel it, but close enough for him to close his eyes and inhale her scent.

And that’s how the workers of the park found them the next day, curled into one another, the cushion still swinging, the morning light not bothering either of them.

☾ ☽ 1 day later

He stood in front of her house, the flowers he had picked up on the way there dropped from his hand. 

A red, ugly foreclosure sign was the only thing he could see. 

She was gone. 

☾ ☽

Part 2

[uhgoodmoni]

Nothing that Lasts forever

A BTS fanfiction

Trailer - ch1 - ch2 - ch3 - ch4 - ch5 - ch6 - ch7 - ch8 - ch9

Ao3 link - Wattpad link - Soundtrack

Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood, Demons, Fighting, Verbal and Physical Abuse, Mention of marijuana, Death, Cursing, Fire, Unintentional Self-harm, Gore. Yoongi’s injury

Chapter five: Mirrors

Yoongi’s POV

“Shit.” It comes from my mouth in more of a wail, my hands flying to my face. Hobi. Gone. Jungkook, now understanding the length of our issue, slams the car door. The light goes off. My knees bend and I crouch to the floor. He’s gone. No. He would have listened. He wouldn’t have gotten out of the car. Something else must have happened. 

“You pushed him down the stairs.” I turn to him, tears welling up in my eyes. “What is wrong with you?” My throat burns, and his eyebrow twitches. 

“What…” 

I step towards him, grabbing his shirt. “You pushed him down the stairs.” My teeth grind together, “And you know that he was injured.” His head shakes, pushing my hand away from him.

“Yoongi you have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says calmly, reaching for my shoulder. 

“Fucking explain it then.” I step away from him. “He can’t walk properly let alone run. And now he’s missing?” 

He screws up his face, “Fuck you. You were asleep.” My face is reddening, I can feel the heat from my cheeks. “I didn’t even see Hoseok.” 

“He wouldn’t lie... “ I choke.

He sighs, “I know.” Again he reaches for my shoulder, but I don’t shrink away. “I woke up in the forest. Yoongi. I wasn’t even there when that happened.” Air slips through my nostrils, as my eyes flick to the woods behind us. “I don’t know what's happening.” 

My head falls, “Sorry.” He shakes his head. I’ve clearly been clueless as to what’s been happening. Jungkook is a mess, Hobi too. I’m unscathed. 

“I want to explain everything I remember but we should find Hoseok hyung.” I look back to him, his face droops, body slumped. He’s tired. I nod, pulling my phone up. No bars, no surprise there. 4:47. 61%. 

‘We stick together.” I affirm, wiping at the single tear that has fallen. He nods, looking around him. 

“I think he might be in the same place I woke up from.” He looks out behind the cabin. “I mean, where else would we look?” I nod, whatever. “There's a clearing.” He swipes his finger against his lips, “It’s far.” He squeezes his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know how I found my way back.” 

“Can you lead the way?” I flick my flashlight on, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, taking the first steps towards the line of trees. 

Together we slip around the trunks, long and extending, hands curled out, tugging at our hair and clothing. He walks fast, the dark encapsulating us, the chill of the forest digging through our flesh. Leaves, damp from the cool air slap at my cheeks. I stumble, not completely able to see my feet, entangled in the earth, weeds, and roots of the forest. Though I don’t slow. Hobi is not the type to bear being alone. I can’t even imagine how he feels. Terrified, hurt, and sad.

 Please be somewhere safe. 

It nags at my heart. I know he’s not. There is not one reason he should have unlocked the car and left. I know. I know. 

“Here.” Jungkook halts, bringing my eyes up. A few more steps forward. The trees dissipate, us coming into a circle of dry grass. The moon shines above, I raise my head, staring into the stars. Thousands, bunched together, in a clear sky. The clouds from earlier, giving room for the galaxy. No time to stargaze. 

At the center of the clearing, shards of the stars shine. A glimpse of the constellations in the grass. My eyes roll over the clearing. I see distortions of the forest. I squint, trying to see across. A figure stands there. 

My hand waves around, searching for Jungkooks. My fingers find his, “There.” He moves his eyes, trying to find the shadow I see. “You think it’s Hobi?” I whisper, and he shakes his head. Hobi would have called for us. 

I make a step to the right, my foot hitting something. I look down, a mirror. Frameless. Pointed inwards of the circle. I shift my eyes back to the figure, noting another taller figure stands next to him, holding his hand. It’s only us. Another mirror leaned against a tree. 

“A reflection.” Jungkook sighs, his fingers loosening. I nod, coming into the center of the circle. The shards, glimmering the Milky Way, another mirror, shattered on the floor, at the very center. We hover over it, staring down at it. My eyes are swollen. Tired. Jungook’s eyes are red, and I notice now that he must have been crying too. What happened to him? I stare into the stars, one shard tainted with blood. Staining the glow of the stars with red. Hobi’s?

“Guys…” I flip around to face the tired voice, Hoseok standing where we had come through the trees. He stands crooked, but both feet are on the ground. His eyes flick back and forth to us, but he seems unhurt. 

“Hoseok!” My body moves for me, taking a step towards him. I’m yanked back by my hand, Jungkook’s grip firm. What? But I don’t openly question him. I step back into place, looking over Hoseok. His hair is grimy, clinging to his forehead. I avert my gaze to his arm, blood dripping from his fingers, a gash on the outer of his forearm.

“Hoseok... “ He starts, “What is something only you would know about us?” Hobi tilts his forehead in response, just as confused as I was. I look at Jungkook whose eyes are dark. I want to tear away from him and rush to Hobi, get him to the car. We can leave now. We can go. 

“Jungkook.” I tug at his hand. There’s no time for this. He shoots me a glare, but his eyes glisten as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. My heart drops. I can’t understand his reasons. But Hoseok can answer the question easily. 

“Hoseok…” I mumble, waiting for him to speak. 

A twitch of his right eye, “Why would you ask me that?” His eyebrows come over his eyes. “You…”

Jungkook speaks softly this time, “Hobi, please just answer the question.” 

Hoseok, takes a long breath, his eyes shifting to mine. I shift. Something isn’t right. Standing on both legs. What is he doing? Why isn’t he saying anything? 

I choke on words, unsure of what to say. I lean back as he takes steps towards me. My hands fumble behind me, attempting to catch my fall as I back away. His eyes are blank, shoving me the rest of the way down. I hit the ground, my head resting on the grass. I glance up at the sky. Seeing stars. Then Hobi smirking. He stands over me, lifting his foot over my stomach. 

Jungkook grabs the leg before he can bring it down into my stomach. I roll away, huffing into the dirt. Fuck. I bury my fingers into the ground, pulling myself up, and flipping onto my backside. It turns, slamming it’s foot into Jungkook’s stomach instead. He’s thrown back, landing on the glass. Immediately he chokes out, leaning on to his arm. Hoseok doesn’t stop there, walking to Jungkook, and bringing his foot into his stomach again. Jungkook curls over. This isn’t him. He couldn’t hurt anything. Not Hobi. 

“Hoseok!” My voice strains. He kicks again. I swallow, pushing myself into standing position. Again. Why is he doing this? He lifts Koo’s head and rams it into his knee, Jungkook completely incapacitated. Fuck. I dash towards him, shoving him away from Jungkook. He barely is moved, turning to me with a sigh. I search his eyes, they are definitely his. I shake my head, raising my hand for him to stop. 

“Hobi…” He blinks at me. Yanking at my hand, pulling me into him. He twists. Hard, and I wince, grabbing at his shirt. “Hoseok wake up.” I cry. He ignores me, and with a swift kick of his foot, I fall to my knees. “Stop…” I whine, holding back tears. He releases my hand. Mouthing, S T O P.

I sniff, remaining where I am, tossing a glance to Jungkook, who's lying unconscious. Blood drips from his nose, already red and swollen. It’s not Hobi. That is clear, as I look up at the blank face above me. He wouldn’t. I know. I know. 

He blinks, holding out his arm in front of me. The skin jagged where he was cut. I blink away the tears, confused. It’s bleeding, but dried blood forms in streaks down his arms. I don’t understand. 

“I…” He raises his other hand stopping me from speaking. I watch as it grabs its own wound. He smirks at me, clenching onto his arm, blood spilling from the gash. My eyes widen as it fishes its fingers into the cut. Blood pools around his fingers.

“Hobi stop!” I raise my hand, reaching to make him stop hurting himself. My hands stop halfway as he raises his hand to me. I flinch as it connects with my face in a slap. Blood splashes into my ear. I freeze, warm liquid dripping down my cheek. I can’t breathe, my whole body frozen in the same fear from earlier. A handprint of blood sticks to my face, and I barely lift my eyes to him. He smiles, turning away and walking back towards the cabin. 

I sit, staring into the grass. I don’t know for how long. Eventually, I find the strength to raise my head to the sky. While the stars are still visible, it's lightening up. Grey clouds, come in as I stare. The trees blow in the wind, the black forest becoming green again. 

A cough. Jungkook’s eyes flitter open, and he shakily raises his head. I gulp, breathing in loud through my nose. His eyes meet mine, confusion filling them as he glances around the clearing. Slowly he sits up. I can’t be bothered to move. My head rolls down, my eyes staring at my hands. Hobi… If only I hadn't left him behind. My ringers roll into my palms. Why would he have gotten out of the car? A droplet falls to my closed knuckles. I sniff, letting them fall, one after the next.

“Hoseok?” Jungkook questions. I don't respond. I don’t know where he’s gone. Wouldn’t know what to do even if I did know. He coughs, leaning back over. “I… don’t feel very well.” I look up, wiping my tears away. Jungkook is leaned over his knees, clutching his abdomen. Sucking up my tears I crawl over to him. Only now that I’m moving do I realize how cold I am. Having sat in the autumn air for a few hours, my body is stiff from more than just fear.

“Let me see.” I move his hand away, pulling up his shirt. To keep from cringing I bite my lip. From the time we had been sitting here a nasty bruise was spreading. A deep purple spreading rib to rib. It was likely at least one was broken. Jungkook's hair falls down over his face as he looks down over it, blood stained over his lips. He inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. His hands shake, I can’t gauge whether from pain or the cold, maybe both. 

“Shit.” He spits, and I let the shirt fall back over the wound. I close my eyes. Hobi, what have you done? What happened to you? Jungkook’s breathing is labored. He must not be trying to be in pain as he breaths. Hopefully, it’s nothing worse than the outer wound that we see. 

“What now?” He asks. Ha. What now? “Where did he go?” I nod back to the cabin, and Jungkook grunts starting to push himself up. With one long breath, I will myself to stand. In much better shape than he is, I help him get up. 

“Can you walk?” I barely whisper, and he looks surprised to hear me.  He nods, taking one tentative step forward. Choosing to walk behind him, it's a slow journey back towards the cabin. With every other step, he groans. The forest begins to lighten up, making it easier to find our way. The cabin comes into view, but it doesn’t produce any relieved sighs. Both of us are still on edge, just trying to catch our breath. Reaching the cabin, Jungkook uses the wall to help with his limp. At the corner, he falls, hacking into the gravel. I rush over and place my hand on his back. He trembles, looking sickly. He was getting worse as we had walked. He must be injured a lot more than I had thought. 

“Okay, okay.” I let him cough, patting his back. He shakes his head, pushing his palms down to the ground. He should take a moment to rest, even though we sat in that damned field till the sun has come up.

“I can get up.” He grunts, allowing me to help him back to an awkward stance. I nod, leading around the corner. Together again we halt.

Hoseok is out cold, laying in front of the door. Breathing slowly, his shirt is covered in blood, though the deep cut in his arm has stopped bleeding. I look to Jungkook, who seems just as unsure of what to do as me. Despite what happened earlier I decide it’s worth the risk. 

“Let’s get him inside.” I slur, and Jungkook hesitantly agrees. With mostly my strength, we get him inside, leaning him on the couch. I take a deep breath, the air here now just as cold as outside. After I had propped the door open all the cool air had sucked out what remained of the heat. 

Jungkook, with an exhausted huff, collapses at Hobi’s legs, leaning against him. I go to the kitchen looking for a first aid kit. There isn’t one but there is tape beneath the sink. I wet some paper towels and grab a dry handful, taking them back with me to the next room. Jungkook has closed his eyes, shivering. I set down my things. 

“Here.” He squints one eye open, taking a blanket that I offer. 

“Thank you.” He curls it over him, looking over Hobi, whose arm is coated in blood, dirt, and pebbles sticking to the serrated skin. I walk around sitting next to Hoseok, pick up his arm, and set it over my legs. 

I take the wet cloth, and dab away at the grime, trying to keep it out of the cut as best I can. wiping away at the dried blood, I wet my lips. Taking the rag down to his fingers. If he woke to this sight he’d likely faint. That's probably what made him pass out in the first place. The staining of red wipes away, though leaves traces of discoloration on his skin. I take a dry cloth and pat away any moisture. It looks much better but after him digging his fingers in there I wish I could clean it better. He might even need stitches. Bleeding has started up again, after layering a few paper towels on the cut I use the tape to help it stay over his arm. I make it tight, blood already seeping through. Good enough. 

My eyes trail up as Hoseok’s opposite hand slides over the shitty bandaging. His fingers, nails caked in dirt, hesitate over his wounded arm. I look up to him and he’s already looking at me. I almost sigh out of relief at the tears in his eyes. At least I know it's him. 

“Thank god it’s you.” He speaks before me, wrapping his free arm around me. I nod, leaning into his shoulder, not exactly sure what he means by that. I hold him closer. I never want to see what I saw in the woods again. Never. It’s clear that Hobi wasn’t aware of his actions. I look to Koo, who is barely keeping his eyes open. I see his phone in his pocket, keeping him awake by asking for it. 

After taking it from him I stand. Please, just any tiny bit of service. Please. My finger presses the power button. It stays off. I look at Jungkook. 

“It’s dead isn’t it” He looks down to the ground apologetically. “I forgot my charger.” I purse my lips, nodding. It’s not worth being upset over any longer. With a sigh, I look down at the black screen. My reflection peering back at me. I tear my teeth into my bottom lip. My lungs stuck. 

I can’t breathe.

[shewhoridesonrainbows]

Words Upon Your Skin - Ch. 4

Edit: A lot of people were confused about the ASL part so I added a mini explanation.

AO3

Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 *

As they approached the manor Damian swore Todd to secrecy again. He didn’t want the rest of his family’s opinions on the matter until he’d figured out how he even felt about having a person out in the world that was bonded to him. Todd was the only other person to have spent any extended time with the League so he was the only one that understood the mindset Damian was raised with. And he didn’t feel like reliving that aspect of his childhood at the moment.

The cave should’ve been cool but Damian was burning up. He’d thought the sweat building on the back of his neck was from the afternoon sun beating down on his dark clothing but, as the bike pulled to a stop inside the air conditioned area of the Batcave, Damian knew he was most likely experiencing a side effect of what he was drugged with. 

Damian jumped off the bike and quickly checked his arm to make sure his soulmate’s message had faded before practically ripping his hoodie off. Left in just a T-shirt, Damian tossed the jacket on the ground at his feet.

“What’s wrong, Baby Bird?” Todd was still sitting on his bike though his helmet was perched in front of him. Damian glared at the offending garment he’d just thrown to the ground before answering.

“I was drugged today, Todd. Apparently, whatever it was causes hot flashes.” He was halfway towards the computer when he heard the door between the cave and the manor open.  The sound of Todd’s boots followed him.

Three sets of footsteps were making their way down the stairs. As the got closer Damian whipped around to remind Todd of their agreement and when he faced his brother the man was staring wide eyed at Damian’s right arm. He glanced down just in time to see more French as the rest of his family got close enough to see it as well.

It was Grayson that spoke first.

“Why did you write French on your arm?”

“Uhh,” Damian’s mind was drawing a blank. The migraine is really affecting my cognitive skills.

It was Todd that came to the rescue, “He was practicing languages other than English and Arabic, duh.”

Goddammit Todd.

“Jason,” Drake piped up from behind Grayson, “the rest of us understand French. And why would Damian need to practice writing,” he twisted his head to get a better look at Damian’s arm. “Why would he need to write ‘Sorry for writing so much in one go. My friends say I ramble too much. I’ll wait for you-’” Damian cut off the translating by hiding his arm behind his back. He glared at everyone in front of him.

Everyone waited for someone else to break the silence.

“Alright,” Todd clapped his hands together, “I’m gonna bite the bullet and say it. Kid, you’re in a room with the best detectives in the world, everyone has already figured it out.” Grayson winced.

“He’s right but he shouldn’t have said it,” Bruce finally spoke. The man looked at his son carefully before continuing, “When were you going to tell us that you have a soulmate?”

“Were you going to tell us?” Grayson asked when Damian didn’t answer.

“I-” the youngest started, “I don’t know.”

In a rare act of brotherly love, Todd moved in front of Damian to stop anymore questions. 

“Look guys, Baby Bird has only been with us for about seven years. He was raised by the League ‘til he was ten,” Todd took a breath before continuing. “After I was brought back, I spent time with the League, barely anything compared to Damian, but it was just enough to find out what they thought of soulmates.” Everyone started to look guilty when the League was brought up. They all knew how messed up that organization was. And how it messed up a good kid.

“Soulmate’s were a weakness. Nobody could join the League if they had one,” Damian’s voice was weak from behind To- No, Jason, I can at least call him Jason in my mind after this.  “So I never wrote on myself as a child.”

“And you’ve almost always worn long sleeves so you never saw their messages,” Drake supplied and Damian nodded.

Before anyone could say anything else Alfred appeared beside the group.

“I believe Master Damian hasn’t read the newest message yet and, until he deems otherwise, it’s something between the two of them.”

And, since Alfred’s word was law, everyone scattered in opposite directions, leaving Damian by himself. After making sure no one was looking his way, he pulled his arm in front of himself and read.

‘Sorry for writing so much in one go. My friends say I ramble too much. I’ll wait for you to write back before sending another message. I hope you have a nice night…or day. I don’t know what time zone you’re in.’

The words took up all of his forearm and part of his hand. Damian could already tell that whoever they are, his soulmate would talk a lot. And normally that would annoy him but for some reason, reading the long winded messages sparked a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with his hot flash. That warmth was urging him to write something back…but what?

After so long of radio silence his soulmate was probably even more surprised by this turn of events than he was. What do you say to someone that everyone else in the world would’ve grown up talking to? ‘Hey, sorry it took so long, my mother and grandfather hated the idea of soulmates and I just never thought about the possibility that you existed after I went to live with my father. How are you?’ No, that was ridiculous. Do I even want to bring them into my life at all? It’s not like being Robin is any safer than being the heir to the League of Assassins. 

Damian was about to go into another downward spiral when his father coughed behind him.

“Damian, I’m sorry you had to go through what you did as a child. And I’m sorry you faced an inquisition here when you’re still figuring this out yourself.” His father awkwardly patted his shoulder then smiled gently. “If you have any questions, I’m here for you.”

“Father, I-” It went against the instincts forced into him as a child, but the last couple years of being surrounded by an annoying but loving family had softened those instincts. So Damian continued, “I don’t know what to say to someone I should’ve known since I could hold a pen.”

“Just introduce yourself. Ask them about their interests. If they’re your soulmate they’re probably smart enough to guess that something in your childhood prevented you from making contact. And I don’t think the universe would pair you with someone that wouldn’t understand that.”

Damian snorted, “I don’t know Father, Lady Luck hasn’t been smiling down at me lately.”

“Well, whatever you do, just know we’re here for you. I can’t say your brothers won’t tease you after everything has settled but just remember that it’s not meant to actually hurt you. If they go too far, tell them and they’ll back off.”

“Thanks, Father,” Damian smiled weakly, “I’ll try to come up with something to say.”

A single nod from his father before he walked towards Drake at the computer.

“What have you found so far?” The eldest Wayne asked. 

Drake sat back in his chair and grabbed for his mug sitting on the console. He took a sip then started reading from his files.

“Based on the info that Damian was able to gather, these guys are bringing in more girls through this dock,” Drake circled Pier 5 on a map of Gotham’s bay area, “tonight. Whatever pre-drugged Damian found out told him to bring Titus so there’ll probably be security measures to keep out thermal imaging. And lastly, the time Damian wrote down was 11 pm,” he looked at Bruce, “if it were me I’d want to be there sooner.”

Bruce nodded, “So, we’ll shoot for the whole team to be there at ten, but I want someone down there now to stake out the area.” He stepped back to look at all of his sons gathered around. “I’m sending Nightwing for now, the rest of you be ready. We leave in three hours.”

Everyone agreed. Grayson bounded off towards the suits to gear up and head out while Jason went to his guns to get them ready. Bruce glared at the weapons before sighing.

“Jason-”

“Don’t worry, Bats,” Jason interrupted with his back still turned towards them, “I’m loading up rubber bullets. They’ll leave a hell of a bruise but they won’t kill.”

Bruce sighed again, shook his head, then walked back upstairs to the manor, muttering about ‘too many kids’ along the way.

With a quick glance to make sure nobody was looking (Grayson suiting up, Jason cleaning his guns, and Drake pouting at his now empty mug) Damian grabbed a pen and walked to a chair sitting in the darkest part of the cave. There was barely enough light to see with as he put the tip of the pen to his skin.

‘Hello, thank you for not asking why this is just starting now. My father suggested I ask what your interests are…’ Damian’s cheeks flamed up. Why did I say that my father told me to ask? I’m embarrassing myself in my first intentional message. He was about to wipe it off and hope that his soulmate had not seen the message yet when ink started welling up from beneath his skin.

‘I like fashion and video games. What about you?’

He was surprised again. They messaged back very quickly and, since the bond could tell that he’d already read the message, the ink faded just as quickly. 

He tried to wipe away his writing but it only smudged. Damian jerked his head up in search of a towel or wet cloth to aid him only to see Alfred already holding one towards him. Damian grabbed it with a ‘thank you’.

“Don’t worry, Master Damian, I won’t tell your brothers,” Alfred said as he turned and walked away. Damian sent a silent ‘thank you’ at the butler’s retreating back.

After carefully cleaning the spot, Damian had to think of a safe interest of his to talk about. He was drawing a blank until Titus bounded down the stairs into the Batcave. 

Damian smiled as he wrote.

‘I like animals.’

He didn’t have to wait long before his arm was full of a block of French.

‘Really? I’ve always wanted a pet of my own but my parents run a bakery so I was never able to get one. After I move I might get a dog or a cat. I used to want a hamster a couple years ago but I’ve realized it wouldn’t work out very well. I might lose them. Do you have any pets?’

He stared, wide eyed, at the paragraph. His ink on his arm hadn’t dried yet so wiping it away was significantly easier this time.

‘Yes, I have a Great Dane named Titus.’ From there the two soulmates went back and forth for a couple minutes, answering back as soon as the other’s message was read.

‘My friend looked it up and Great Danes are HUGE dogs. He even teased me that yours would be bigger than I am… my friend also told me to ask you something called ASL, do you know what that means?’

‘Titus is bigger than some grown men so I wouldn’t doubt that other Great Danes are bigger than a teenager.’ Damian’s face screwed up into a displeased expression at the end of his soulmate’s message unsure on how he felt about it. Before he could continue, another message from his soulmate came through.

‘Nevermind, he told me. He’s grounded from food from the bakery for the rest of the night for making me ask for your "age, sex, location". And, to answer my own question, I’m 16, a girl, and I live in Paris.’ 

‘I’m a year older, male, and I live in America’ Damian didn’t want to get too specific on his location. Getting a surprise soulmate was bad enough, I do NOT need her showing up in Gotham with so many villains running around. He just hoped his soulmate didn’t feel offended about his vagueness and, if his father was right about the universe, she would understand him.

‘Well,’ the word appeared on his arm followed closely with, ‘it was great talking to you. I have to go to bed now, my parents got on to me for staying up until almost 3 playing video games. Oh! I haven’t told them about you yet. The only reason my friend knows is because he’s the one that noticed the first message. Do you mind if I tell them?’ 

Damian’s heart stuttered. She waited to tell anyone until she checked if I wanted others to know.

 ‘I’m fine if you tell the people in your life about me. Most people are very excited to have a soulmate and I’m honestly surprised you didn’t immediately tell anyone, my family already knows so it would only be fair if yours did as well. I know my brothers are just waiting to be able to tease me.’

Great, now I’m rambling. My soulmate has already rubbed off on me. 

‘How should we address each other since the bond blocks our names?’ He asked. The wait between this question and her answer was the longest gap in conversation on her end since they’d first began. 

‘I think it should come naturally, don’t you think?’ 

‘Okay,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll let you get to sleep now, good night.’

He waited until she replied ‘good night’ back then stood. With the soulmate drama taken care of, it was time to suit up and be ready to leave. 

As his soulmate slept, Robin had a job to do.

NEXT

@vixen-uchiha @kel121288 @northernbluetongue @vivalakitty @bluerosette23 @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @zaladanee @crazylittlemunchkin @professionalfangirl1738 @violatiger8 @creator-josie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dur55 @i-am-fandom-trash30 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @schrodingers25

[saltytyrus]

Sleep and Straws

Tyrus fic ~ First Meet (they’re in college here)

word count: ~2,330

Cyrus wakes a stranger up at the movies:

"For the last time, unlike the previous two movies, this one was actually good. I promise she won't hate it," Cyrus assured.

"Cy, if this goes downhill, I'm never dating again and it's all on you," she whisper-shouted.

He smiled and rolled his eyes fondly, "Well, I'm willing to take that chance."

“Ah, you say that now but cat food and litter prices add up, and I doubt that your allergies-”

“Andi Eleanor Mack, quit stalling!” he huffed and placed his phone between his ear and shoulder to zip up his jacket as a gasp came through the other line.

"I'm no-, okay fine. I'll go ask her now," she paused for a moment in hopes that Cyrus would suddenly try and talk her out of it. When met with an unwavering silence, she took matters into her own hands, "Unless-”

"Andi, no!" - he quickly cut her off - "I'm begging you, please just ask her out. I refuse to listen to another hour long rant on how her hair ‘looks like Rapunzel's’ or how her hiccups sound cute, and-” he drew in a breath, 'I should really start charging’ Cyrus thought to himself.

"Okay! Thank you, I get it," Andi cut in, taking advantage of his need to breathe. "She’s in my next class. Wish me luck, I guess."

"You'll do great, and friendly reminder? I did not just sit through three movies for nothing.” He plucked his drink from the cupholder. “Call me back when you're done?" 

"Oh yeah, definitely. If I don't die of embarrassment or rejection first," Andi muttered mostly to herself eliciting a chuckle from Cyrus as the line went dead.

 Andi had been pining over one of her classmates for months now. The majority of her and Cyrus’ Friday texts and conversations involved her relaying the new cute things she’d witnessed her crush do or say in great detail. He nearly cried tears of joy earlier that day when she came to him in a panic and told him that she was considering asking her out. He even offered to pay for the date as an incentive for her to follow through. Which, she declined. Instead however, he was asked to checkout a movie for her; and being the great friend that he is, with zero lectures scheduled for that day, he happily agreed.

Little did he know that he would spend the majority of his Friday parked in not one, but three different theater chairs continuously shifting in search of a position that would stop the sensation of pins and needles. When the first movie ended up being downright terrible, he was sent to check out another, and when that one wound up being too cheesy, he was sent to another. As you can imagine, he was antsy and had been since halfway through the second movie. It wasn’t all bad though, he’d get temporary relief of the pins and needles by the occasional icee-brain freeze…which, he’d already downed three of. All in all, if he never went to the movies again, it would be too soon.

Looking around, of what was previously a packed auditorium, was now a desert. The scattered trash left behind filling the role of tumbleweeds. Pocketing his phone, he took a sip from his drink and got ready to stand as the credits began to fade out. He was halfway out of his seat and a blank screen stared back at him when soft snores began to spill into the short lived silence. With the belief of himself being the last one there shattered, he cast a glance over his shoulder.

Directly behind him sat a guy who, from the looks of it, was around his age. A hand laid lifelessly in a tub of popcorn, a few stray pieces littered his maroon hoodie. Strands of floppy blonde hair would fly up and down with each breath and although his head hung down in an undeniably uncomfortable position, he looked somewhat peaceful. 

Curious as to how the stranger managed to sleep through the endless explosions throughout the movie, Cyrus turned around and kneeled on the chair. Now facing the stranger with both arms loosely resting over the top of his seat, he took a sip from his nearly empty cup. A short lived slurping sound bounced off the walls of the theater and the chain of soft snores continued on. Amused that he was still asleep, Cyrus took another sip; even longer and drawn out than the last and about ten seconds in, the snoring ceased and the stranger began to stir in his seat. Which was good timing in his opinion because he was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded.

With eyes still screwed shut, the stranger sat up. A few pieces of popcorn audibly crunched beneath the hand that remained planted in the popcorn tub and the stragglers from his hoodie fell onto his lap. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the light. Unsure of what to do now that the stranger was awake, Cyrus just sat there like a deer caught in headlights as tired and clearly disoriented green eyes found his and offered him a faint smile. After around five seconds of staring at each other, the stranger came to and glanced down at his hoodie and lap, quickly he brushed off the food and looked back up with a full blown smile, "Hi," he said in a soft, and slightly strained voice followed by a breathy laugh. 

"G-good morning" Cyrus got out, slowly regaining his confidence until he realized what he said. ‘Morning? It’s nearly 9pm!’  he thought to himself, feeling as if he were 2 inches tall standing in the middle of a lit candle as his face burned. “I mean, hi," he backpedaled and offered a smile. The stranger only chuckled in response with eyes still glued to him. Swallowing down his nerves, Cyrus continued, “I'm not sure if you know this, but sleeping is free of charge," he said teasingly and tore his eyes away from his to poke his straw through faded blue ice, failing to see the other's smile grow in response.

"Contrary to belief, I do. Now do you," he said drawing out the you. Cyrus looked back up at him curiously and began to take a sip. "Know that plastic straws are bad for the environment?" Cyrus’ eyebrows furrowed at this and as if on cue, his chair gave into the undistributed weight. Thrown forwards by the chair folding in, the straw jabbed the inside of his upper lip and gums. "Ow" Cyrus mumbled as he pulled the drink away and used the palm of his free hand to push away from the back of the chair. This time around he sat on the backs of his legs to avoid another fold in. The pain managed to cancel out his embarrassment up until the moment that he met the strangers amused gaze. Looking at him, it was clear that he was about to say something smart, and although Cyrus' eyes begged him not to, he rarely got what he wanted.

"You see, Blue, with a silicone straw I guarantee that wouldn't have hurt," the stranger sung matter of factly and he set his popcorn tub aside with a wry smile. Cyrus side eyed him, his own laughter threatening to spill as he blindly put his icee back into the cupholder. "Do you use them?" Cyrus queried through a challenging smile, ignoring the stinging sensation that came with it.

"I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't, now wouldn't I?" he said playfully and ran a hand through his hair. Cyrus pretended to think it over before offering a shrug, "I guess so,” he smiled. “What brand do you swear by?"

The stranger beamed at that, and without a word he reached into the pocket of his hoodie. Scooting to the edge of his chair, he extended his phone to Cyrus who looked down at it and then back up at him questioningly. "Put your number in and I'll send you a link," he stated with a shy smile and it came out more as a question. Cyrus nodded and carefully rose up in the chair, a hand pressed against the back to avoid giving it an opportunity to fold in again. "TJ," the other said during the pass off. "Cyrus," he smiled and sat back beginning to type in his number as TJ started cleaning up the pieces of popcorn surrounding himself.

About halfway into creating his contact a call came in. "Uh," Cyrus spoke and TJ looked up from the chair he was previously inspecting for stray pieces, " ‘Thing 2’  is calling?" he turned the phone around to TJ.

"Oh, that's just my sister. You can let it go to voicemail."

"Are you sure?" Cyrus questioned.

"Yeah, I’ll call her back later. She'll text if it's important," he said smiling. Cyrus nodded and continued typing in his number, handing it back seconds later.

Cyrus turned in his seat, grabbed his drink and rose to his feet. Like he usually did, he began picking up leftover trash from within the rows. TJ busied himself with his phone that was now going off with a series of pings.  

'Diapers, seriously' Cyrus muttered to himself as he nudged a dirty diaper into an empty popcorn tub with a plastic fork.

Not wanting the interaction to be over, TJ locked his phone and cleared his throat, "So, how did the movie end?" 

Cyrus smiled to himself as he picked up a half empty nacho tray from the floor. "Let me answer that with a question," he said rising back to his feet, "Did you even catch any of the movie?" 

TJ’s jaw dropped slightly, "Of course," he said mock offendedly, “I probably made it three fourths of the way,” his growing smile giving him away as Cyrus' eyes met his.

Not believing him for a second, Cyrus hummed in contemplation. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but David dies." 

TJ gave him a pained smile, "Damn, I was really rooting for his character." 

"Well then, worry not, because there wasn't a David in this movie," he said deviously and TJs facial expression contorted into pure confusion, "See, I'm not one to spoil movies. I just wanted to see if you'd fall for it, Mister 'three fourths of the way', " Cyrus said turning on his heel as he neared the end of the bottom row, arms cradling trash. 

“Huh, human lie detector?” TJ commented, amusement evident in his voice.

“Nope,” Cyrus said stepping down the final stair, “Child of four therapists. So, close enough.” he shrugged and turned to face him again with a smile, coming face to face with the usual reaction; wide eyes and a new home for flies. 

TJ slowly nodded, “Sounds, painful? But, c’mon, give me a hint. I don’t mind spoilers.”

“It has its perks, and no can do. That would mean going against my code.” TJ snorted and nodded in defeat. “But, I’ll tell you this, it was definitely worth watching.”

TJ looked deep in thought, his mouth opened and closed repeatedly and his eyes shifted to the floor, "Would you-" he looked up and met his eyes, "I mean, I know you've already seen it, but would you like to see it again, with me, maybe?" Before Cyrus could respond, TJ continued, "Or a different movie!” he rushed out, “I just-" 

"Yes." his rambling was cut short and his smile grew. "Yes?" he repeated, obviously shocked. Cyrus matched his smile and nodded, "I can see it again. Next Friday?"

TJ nodded, "Uh, yeah. Yup! Cool, niceberg-" he sucked in a breath and winced as Cyrus tilted his head in amusement, "Please ignore what I just said - so, Friday?" he asked with a soft smile.

Cyrus nodded once more feeling heat rise to his face. The sound of Cyrus’ phone ringing pulled them out of their staring contest, causing him to jump and drop some trash in the process. "I should take this," he said, carefully leaning down for the fallen trash. 'Of course it had to be the popcorn diaper', Cyrus thought to himself as he kicked it back in the tub. "I'm expecting an environmentally friendly straw link, though." And with that, he directed one last smile at TJ and turned the corner.

Seemingly finding his voice again, TJ called out, "And I expect to see it in your cup next week."

Cyrus was grinning from ear to ear. He threw the trash into the dumpster, pushed through the theater door and dug his phone out of his pocket. Andi's face came into view and he quickly accepted it, "How'd it go?!"

"She said yes!" Andi screamed into the phone, the picture scrambled as she jumped around and Cyrus was positive that if faces could split from smiling so much, that he'd be screwed.

"Andi!" he beamed, "See, I told you you'd be okay," he took a deep breath, "Now, paint me a picture, I've earned it!"

"Okay, okay," Andi's jumping came to a halt and her smile came back into focus, "So I went up to her and-" she trailed off, leaving Cyrus confused as she brought the phone closer to her face.

"And???" he said nearly exploding with anticipation.

"Blue. Why are your teeth blue?" she questioned, curiosity nearly managing to take over her smile. 

"My what- oh, icees. Continue," the gears visibly turned in his eyes, "Wait- they're what now?!" he squeaked and clicked on the square so his picture expanded. Upon further inspection of his teeth, they were indeed stained blue. All around. "The whole time!?" he groaned and Andi giggled. "I guess he didn't mind," Cyrus mumbled to himself in an attempt to ease his growing embarrassment as he replayed their interaction. 

"What, who!?" Andi demanded. 

"I'll tell you after. Now what happened with Amber?"

Andi's smile quickly returned to its full bloom, "Right, so-"

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Bad Moon Rising - Part 5

Warnings: angst A/N: FRIDAY THE 13TH-- let that sink in folks  Word count: 1.9 K+ The photos and GIFs that I use are not mine. Credits go to the owners.

To be added to the taglist, DM me or send me an ask!

Sam Kiszka x O.C. [Jane Morrison]

Bad Moon Rising Masterpost // Fanfiction Masterpost

Jane was already on the bus on her way to Nashville, Tennessee. Her head was resting against the cold window and her eyes were halfway closed. She was tired, cold and just to top them all, she was starting to get carsick. She wished that Sammy would’ve come with her, but his promises from the evening prior that they’d go on a hike maybe in British Columbia once she’d come back home encouraged her to pull through it.

As she sat in the nearly empty bus, Jane couldn’t take her mind off Sam. The way how he had always been there for her and the way she made her feel – both of these were constant thoughts in her head, urging her to get off the bus and return home, in his arms. She already missed the taste and feeling of his lips on hers and the warmness, comfort and safe feeling of his arms. She wanted to go home.

Meanwhile, from the comfort of his home, Sam was thinking of Jane. He was thinking of skipping two or three days in the studio to go visit her, but then he thought that he would come off as too clingy in front of Jane.

He walked around the house aimlessly. He drove Jane to the bus station early in the morning. Now it was only 8 am. He looked around the kitchen, wanting to eat something. The fact that outside was pretty gloomy didn’t help elevate his mood in any way. Sam felt like now that Jane was away, the sun went away, too. With a sigh he pulled a can of beer out of the fridge and popped it open. He looked at the can for a couple of moments before taking a sip and putting it away. His mind was blank, covered in a thick layer of dullness. He got unused to it with Jane around him all the time, but now that she was gone, it came back, and it came back stronger than before.

Jane fell asleep and woke up only multiple hours later, when the guy from the seat in front of her poked at her shoulder because they got to their destination. Jane was slightly startled, but she forced a smile while whispering a “thank you” to the stranger in the dark coat that woke her up. She looked out the bus window. The sun was hidden beneath the grey clouds that were announcing that rain was on its way. She also saw a man, not that tall, standing in the station, his hands shoved down his jean pockets. He had a patch sewed to his jacket, but Jane couldn’t really make out any other words other than “club”, so she guessed that that was the guy waiting for her.

In no time she was off the bus, her small sports bag thrown over her shoulder. She approached the man as she took in a deep breath. “Hi, are you uhh – mister Curtis?” she asked with a forced smile.

“Yes, that’s me, you must be Jane Morrison. Call me Adam though,” he answered and shook her hand. “May I help with your bag?”

Jane softly shook her head, politely denying his request. It was much chillier in Nashville that day than it was in Detroit the day before. She wished she were still with Sammy, her Sammy, the person who opened her eyes to the beauties of this world.

On the way to her rented apartment, Adam couldn’t shut up for sixty seconds, but Jane pulled through it and tried to be as polite as possible.

The room was actually quite nice. The mattress of the bed was a little too soft for Jane’s tastes, but in rest it was all right. She sat down on the wooden floor the suitcase that she had brought from Detroit and started unpacking as a mean to pass the time. It didn’t take her long to finish unpacking since she hadn’t brought too many things, so soon enough she found herself overwhelmed with boredom. She wasn’t in the mood to watch TV, nor to read anything. She wasn’t sleepy either.

Then, she had an idea – what about going for a walk around the shopping center? There was enough time until that night’s gig started and she could use a little walk. Maybe she would get something for Sam from there. She instantly started making a list in her head of all the records that Sam had ever mentioned that he’d want to get and she smiled to herself.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Jane hung her camera around the neck and was out the door, strolling on the sidewalk.

“Hello ma’am, excuse me, where is the closest shopping center?” she asked politely a woman who was probably five years or so older than her. Jane really liked the way she dressed – with skin tight leather pants, knee-high boots and a leopard print shirt, with lots of jewelry around her neck and on her hands.

“Sure, darling. You cross this street and you keep going straight, until you reach the next street corner. There, you turn right and keep straight until you see it,” she answered with a smile on her lips.

The red light turned green and she crossed the street, along with the other people waiting to do so. There she parted ways with the woman who helped her; Jane kept going ahead, while the woman turned left. Jane kept the instructions in mind and strolled down, looking up to the sky from time to time. It looked like the sky was cornered from every direction by the skyscrapers that shadowed the streets.

A bling sound from her phone made her snap out of her thoughts and she slowed down her pace as she pulled out the phone.

Hi honey, hope you are having fun in Nash! Wish I were there with you :( I just left practice and I’m going for a drink with Danny and maybe some thrifting, too. Feel free to call me whenever you want! Kisses! Sam x

A smile bloomed on her lips and her heart fluttered as she re-read the text again. Sam called her “honey”; Jane didn’t know that he could get even sweeter than he already was, but yet there he was. She pushed the phone back in her pocket as she made a mental note to call Sam as soon as she gets where she set to go.

When she reached the next street corner, she remembered that she had to go right from there. She stopped at the red light and crossed her arms over her chest, softly tapping her fingers to her arm following a rhythm in her mind. When the light turned green, she started crossing the street. She always looked both left and right before crossing a street, just to make sure, but only this one time, she forgot to do so.

She was about midway on the crosswalk when the thought that she forgot to check the street crossed her mind. She violently turned her head right, and saw a car approaching fast, with no chances to stop before it reached her, but still too fast for her to back up to safety.

She felt as if time stopped as well as the things around her. In those moments she remembered all of her happy and sad memories from her life.

In no time she was back in the day she first stepped inside the new place she’d call home in Frankenmuth. She remembered seeing three boys and a girl peeking at her and her parents as they moved in all their belongings. She remembered seeing Sam for the first time, his first words to her being “Hey, wanna listen to some music with me?”. She then remembered her graduation from Frankenmuth High and that one time she went with the Kiszkas camping in Michigan’s wilderness.

She remembered meeting her ex-fiancé at a concert and their first kiss, then their breakup and all the heartbreak. Then she remembered Sam coming in the fitting room and staying with her while she bawled her eyes out and then she remembered the moment when she realized that Sam was the person she was actually in love with. She remembered their first kiss and the way her heart raced every time since then and the way his lips felt on hers and on her skin. She remembered everything.

“Sam, I...” was all she could whisper before the sense of reality came back to her and time started flowing again.

***

Sam looked down at his phone, nervously turning the screen on and off and wondering why didn’t Jane call or text him by then. It was getting late and he was starting to have a bad feeling forming in his stomach. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shrug it off.

He jumped on the couch as he turned on the TV and scrolled through his list of contacts until he reached Jane. He touched her name and her profile showed up. As a contact photo, he chose one that they had made together in last year’s summer, while on a trip in Washington State. She had a radiant smile on her face in that picture as she kept with one finger a strand of Sam’s hair over her top lip, like it was a mustache.

Sam smiled at the memory and pressed the call button. As he waited for an answer, his heart deepened in his chest.

A terrible accident took place earlier today in Nashville, Tennessee, mid-day on one of the main streets, downtown. A woman got hit by a car, driven by a drunk man. Thankfully, the ambulance got there quick enough to assure that the woman won’t lose her life, even though she is gravely injured.

Sam looked at the TV screen as in front of his eyes flashed images of a wide street and a car crashed a few meters after the crosswalk. Then the news channel played a video submitted by a vigilante showing doctors rushing to a woman lying on the street.

Sam let his phone fall from his hand on the couch as the video zoomed in on the chaotic movements of the doctors, rushing the woman to the ambulance. The face wasn’t seen, but Sam spotted it – Jane’s camera; the one she never left behind. To confirm Sam’s biggest fear, he also saw one of the patches that they had sown together to the synthetic camera strap.

Sam’s heart started pounding against his chest, making an unbearable noise, almost driving him crazy. “No, no, no,” he kept whispering to himself as he stood up from the couch absentmindedly and started pacing around the room in circled, running his hands through his hair.

He eventually reached the stairs leading to the upper floor where he had his bedroom, an extra bathroom and a balcony. He let himself fall on the bottom stair and grabbed ahold of his head in his hands. “Fuck…”

Tears started threatening to roll down his cheeks as soon as he let his head fall back. Bringing his knees to his chest and holding them there, a first tear fell, wetting in one spot his white t-shirt. The affectionless and dull voice of the TV reporter, the loud heartbeats, the clock ticking nonstop on the wall – it all drained out. It was silent, as if the universe wanted to let him remember, think, pull himself together and do something.

Tags: @myownparadise96​, @satans-helper​, @jeordinevankiszka​, @littlegeekwonder​, @songbirdkisses​, @pomegranatecurses​, @angelstraightfr0mhell​, @freeeshavacadoo​, @karrotkate​, @mountainofthesunn​, @bigthighsandstupidguys​, @november-rain-roses​

[sugamoonv]

You Had To Open Your Mouth

Like A Mate Should

Summary: Namjoon and Jin see you being attacked as a godsend. You see your attack and meeting them as a series of unfortunate events. How unfortunate that you’re their mate. 

Pairings: established NamJin / Namjin x Reader/ Jin x Reader

Word Count: 3,321

Masterlist > Previous > Next

The house is eerily quiet when you leave the room the next morning, the complete opposite from the loud, boisterousness of the boys you’ve already come to expect. A mop of dark hair peeks over the back of the couch as you walk into the living room. Jungkook is sitting, a small gaming device in his hands that has his whole attention.

“Where is everyone?”

The game flies from hand to hand as Jungkook jumps in his spot and loudly curses before the device finally falls onto the carpet with a dull thud. Jungkook rushes to pick up the device and he sets in on the coffee table before turning to you. He stares at you until you raise your eyebrows in a silent question and he’s reminded to speak.

“Oh, uh, Jimin and Hobi went into town. Suga’s probably still sleeping, and Tae probably went to the pond, and I um- I don’t know where Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung are.” He says the last bit of information as though he’s trying to keep a secret. An awkward silence blankets the both of you so your standing facing each other, eyes shifting around the room.

“I’m the one that’s bringing you back to town,” Jungkook blurts out. “Not that I asked to. That would be weird of me to ask because, you know, Jimin. Not to say that you’re not pretty-because you are- it’s just that I don’t really go that way and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter because Jin and Namjoo-wait.” The entire time Jungkook spoke, he kept his eyes to the floor and suddenly looked up as he remembered something halfway through his speel, face mortified.

You bit your lower lip before pursing your lips and standing on your tiptoes to lower yourself flat-footed again.

“....Okay. Are you good to go then?”

Jungkook rapidly nods, glad for the break in the conversation. “Are you okay to walk?”

“Uh, yeah,” you look down at your ankle mumbling, “I don’t think it’s fully healed but I should be good walking on it.”

Jungkook nods again.

You follow him out of the door onto the front porch. There’s a large space cleared that you assume is used as a lawn before the grass becomes shaded by trees. You see a large garden on one side of the yard and next to you on the porch is a dark, oak bench swing with a pastel blue cushion. You grip onto the railing as you limp down the small set of stairs onto the stone path leading into the woods. Jungkook watches from the bottom with worried eyes.

You’ve barely been walking for five minutes before you want to punch the younger man in the face. He’s already asked you about twenty times how you were feeling and if you were okay to keep walking. If it weren’t for his red face and the way his gaze would flicker to the ground whenever he caught you looking at him, you might have actually thrown hands. The tension between you and Jungkook built and there were only so many trees you could distract yourself with as you walked by.

“So how did you all meet?”

Jungkook stumbles in the path.

His lips split into a wide, nervous smile. The chubbiness of his cheeks with his slightly oversized front teeth and the softness of his nature at that second make you forget what exactly he is.

“Um, I’m half shapeshifter so my mom sent me away to school so I wouldn’t be seen in the clan and I met Taehyung there and he introduced me to everyone.” Jungkook’s eyes light up despite the heaviness of his words, perhaps from the opportunity to talk to someone new.

Jungkook takes a full breath before his face lifts and he begins speaking again. “I was really nervous at first because they were all older than me but Jin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung became like parents to me. Jin-hyung would actually drive me to school most days-Yoongi would sometimes drive me when he felt like it or he had to pick something up in town.”

Jungkook is looking at the ground as he talks but his expression is comfortable. You didn’t expect him to open up like this to you but his youthful aura begs you to stay silent and let him take advantage of you listening. Besides, it’s better than the solitary silence of the plant life around you.

Jungkook’s eyes squint in happiness as he reminisces, “It actually took me and Jimin awhile before we realized we were mates.” He looks up at you, a glint in his eyes. “I would annoy him a lot and I always looked up to him so I would copy him and for the longest time, I thought he was mated to Yoongi-hyung but then one day when he went into heat, Taehyung came running to me, yelling about Jimin was asking for me.” He laughs at the end as if he were sharing an inside joke with you.

Memories pop into your brain of the lessons your own mother taught you about werewolf mating and the brief touch on the topic in your high-school health class.

Jungkook hasn’t taken any notice to your mind drifting away. “And then it turned out that Yoongi-hyung and Hoseok-hyung were mates but they’re not as affectionate as Jimin and me and they completed their mark so they didn’t need to be around each other all the time when I joined the pack….You okay?”

Jungkook looks at you with wide, inquisitive eyes.

Your face flushes. “Yeah, I just- I just thought that it was uncommon for two werewolves that were the same gender to mate?”

If Jungkook has any issue with the word ‘werewolf’ or the question itself, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his eyes softened in understanding.

“I think it’s about the same as humans.”

“Yeah, but I thought you guys chose mates based on reproductive purposes.”

“Humans do the same thing, don’t they? And if you’re talking about us having mates based on how well we’ll be able to have children with them, then that’s a myth.” Jungkook sees your confused expression and continues on. “We don’t get to choose our mate, it’s just kind of, instinctual to us? Our nature subconsciously chooses partners it knows will most compatible with us based on scent so that doesn’t always mean whoever will give you the healthiest pups. It’s just who you’ll be most in sync with physically and emotionally, and then typically because of that our pups are extremely healthy and grow up sturdy.”

You silently nod in confirmation, absorbing all of the information thrown at you. Jungkook’s taught you more in 10 minutes than what you’ve learned about shapeshifters your whole life.

“Do you humans not feel the same connection?”

The innocence of his question draws out an unnatural amount of maternal sympathy. “Not really, no. Relationships like that usually take us a while to build.”

“In every movie with humans, they always find their mate though.”

“Yeah-those are just movies, Jungkook,” you look him in the eyes. “Nothing about them is realistic, especially the falling in love in three weeks.”

“So you’re telling me humans feel nothing when they meet their mate?”

“Nope.”

“I feel bad for Jin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung now,” Jungkook pouts at the ground and continues his trek.

Your eyebrows pinch as you follow behind him, mindful of the small boulders bulging from the section of the path you’re currently on, “Why?”

“Because Namjoon-hyung came back home when he ran into you and he couldn’t stop talking about you. I’m pretty sure him and Jin stayed up all night talking about you.”

You reach out and grab Jungkook’s arm to make him stop again. This time he looks just as confused as you do at your ministrations. “Wait, what? When did Namjoon run into me?”

“When he went into town.”

You shake your head to convey you still have no indication of when you and Namjoon crossed paths. “When did he go into town?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up as he thinks back a few days ago. “About two days before we found you and brought you back home.”

Your mind replays the week's events back to you until you get to the last time you were in town but your mind comes up blank. The only thing you can remember is the lunch you had with your friends and talk about the date before the date itself.

“We thought you were in the forest because you were looking for them.”

“No?” your eyebrows further deepen upon your face and Jungkook’s expression moderately shifts to mirror yours.

Both of you stand in front of each other, unsure of how to respond. Without saying anything, you come to a silent agreement when you look at your befuddled faces then with a shrug, begin walking again.

The rest of the walk is short and you and Jungkook don’t make much conversation for the remainder of it. You can’t get the thought of all that he’s said to you about Namjoon and Jin out of your head, especially the fact that you and Namjoon apparently already having had a run in before you ended up at their house.

There’s a park that the path opens into. It’s empty except for the woman jogging, pushing a stroller and another woman off in the distance untangling a leash from around the legs of her dog. The breeze is stronger here without the trees to halt it, but it’s still soft. You look behind you to see that the space you just came from is practically non-visible, as though you walked through a portal and the path was a mirage conjured up from days wandering through the woods hungry and dehydrated. But Jungkook is still standing beside you and the bandage is still snug on your ankle.

“So this is the central park. We’re pretty close to town,” Jungkook captures your attention, “You’re able to make your way back okay, right?”

“Mhmm.” You eagerly nod at him, ready to escape from the strange energy built between you two.

Jungkook takes a slow step backward, “Cool. Well-uh, stay safe and it was nice meeting you.”

He snaps his fingers and spins so he’s walking forward and you watch him disappear into the thicket back onto the pack. The moment you’re alone, the past week begins to feel like a fever dream.

Despite the plethora of questions from your friends once your phone was charged and you saw them in person and dodging demands to see pictures or souvenirs, the past two weeks have been relatively normal. Well except for the fact that no matter how busy you keep yourself, you can’t stop thinking about the pack of shifters that saved you. More specifically, Namjoon and Jin.

Jungkook’s conversation with you had been ringing in your head since the day he led you back. And the fact that he was the one to lead you back when Jin was the one that insisted that you stay. You would have thought that he would have wanted to be the one to see you off and make sure that your ankle was good before you departed for good.

You heavily sigh and drop your head back when you see the sign on the elevator letting all know that it doesn’t work. Of course, this would happen the day you have tests in all your Tuesday classes. You roll your shoulders as much as you can with the backpack containing your textbooks, planner, and laptop resting on your back.

You drudge your feet over to the paint chipped, metal door that opens to a shady staircase. You wish you could say you were the type of person who’s thighs didn’t burn after climbing three flights of stairs. The minute you enter your apartment, you throw your bag onto the small couch and make a beeline straight to your room. The promise of loose pajamas and a night in made you giddy and for tonight, you were allowing yourself a break from school.

You scroll through your social media and answer the occasional text as the characters on screen whined about the new issue of the episode. The acting was bad but the familiarity of it was comforting. You want to laugh at how close to home the current episode hits. It was a show from before the discovery of shapeshifters, where werewolves were seen as mythical commodities for entertainment and so anyone had free range to voice their interpretations.

The male lead of the show was fighting a group of people when hair started growing on his face and his eyes turned a bright yellow. As you watched the character’s claws swing at the faces of the other people, the now completely healed bite on your ankle began to ache. As though seeing an aggressive shifter on the tv screen was a trigger to your ankle, saying, “you should be in pain”.

You reach down and delicately rub the two puncture marks that were left behind. And with the reminder of your old wound comes the reminder of the creatures that caused it and the shifters that healed it. With the reminder of the boys comes the reminder of Jin and Namjoon. All that they did to help you and how they wanted to get to know you, the conversation you had with Jungkook about them and the conversation you had with Namjoon before you left.

A strange feeling bubbled inside your chest; something akin to guilt mixed another feeling you can’t quite determine. Now instead of your attention being put on the show playing in front of you and your phone face down on the arm of the couch, your legs are restless to move.

You sit up straight, leg bouncing and face screwed in concentration as you think to yourself.

“This is such a bad idea.”

You were able to maneuver through the park with the night sky blackening the sidewalk that ran through it. Yet here you are, in front of the mysterious hidden path Jungkook had led you out of some time before. You can’t see where the entrance is but you know you’re in the right space. The emptiness of the park around you is eery and sends chills up and down your spine so you have to swallow the thoughts of all the ways you could die being alone outside at night. What you wouldn’t give to see the woman from before whose dog got itself caught in its leash.

You almost turn around and go back home. In fact, you do that a couple times. Caught in a loop where you stare at the path then go to walk away only to swallow your nerves and turn back and be caught frozen before repeating again. You take in a deep breath and puff your chest to prepare to walk into the dark, unknown path when all of a sudden a loud rustling comes from in front of you and true fear clogs your throat. You want to turn around again but now you can’t.

You keep your muscles tense despite their natural shaking to prepare themselves to help you flee. Your heart has dropped into your stomach and your mouth is dry as the rustling grows louder and your mind conjures up images of red eyes peering from behind the fauna. You feel the phantom sensation of blood running down your ankle and you want so badly to look down to see if the intense ache felt is real.

“Y/N?”

If it weren’t for Jin saying your name, you would have no idea who’s standing in front of you due to the tears blurring your vision. Your diaphragm reanimates, allowing your lungs to expand and take in a deep breath of air that somewhat immediately stops the dizziness in your head.

“What the hell Jin? What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Each of your words become jumbled as you speak over one another. Jin reaches forward and places his hands on your upper arms as he checks over you for any injuries. You take a step back out of his grasp and his hands drop to his sides, but his eyes remain concerned on you.

“You scared me! Why are you even here!?” you scold Jin and place a hand on your chest over your frantically beating heart.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why are you here?” you repeat yourself, exasperated and drop your hand from your chest.

Under the dim street lamp, you can see a blush forming on Jin, starting from his neck and coloring his face.

“There was something I needed to do,” Jin tries to deflect the question, “Why are you here?”

You don’t want to admit that the reason you looked for the path to their house was to see them. Admittedly, sputtering at Jin’s question probably didn’t make you seem un-suspicious.

“It doesn’t matter why I’m here. What is it you needed to do at 11 o’clock at night?”

Feeding into this game of deflection probably didn’t help your case either.

Jin rapidly blinks as he formulates what answer to give you. Eventually, he resigns himself to telling you the truth and squares his shoulders to make himself appear taller and more confident. “I was looking for you actually.”

“Why?”

Jin sharply inhales then clears his throat a few times. His shoulders now appear more tense and uncomfortable than those of a confident man.

“I wanted to ask you on a date.”

Your lips slightly part as you gape at him. Nervous energy fills the quiet air and Jin shifts from foot to foot as he watches and waits for a response. His eyes have begun to rapidly blink again.

“You came all the way here to ask me on a date!?” your hands thread themselves through your hair and you half spin away from Jin. “You walked all the way here at nearly midnight so you could ask me on a date!? You don’t even know where I live! How were you going to find me? What were you even thinking? Are you insane!”

Jin visibly flinches back as each question is thrown at him and by the time you run out of breath, his face is a raging red and his eyes are wide. His lips move on their own accord trying to speak the words caught in his throat.

At last, he’s finally able to respond to you staring at him aghast.

“I know Jungkook told you how mating works and I just couldn’t let this be a missed opportunity.” Jin goes from bordering on terrified to pleading. “Let me and Namjoon take you o just one date,” when he sees your eyes grow wider, he quickly corrects himself, “Just me! Let me take you on a date. I promise you won’t regret it and if you do, I’ll leave you alone and you can completely forget about me.”

Jin takes a hesitant step towards you so he’s almost directly under the dim light. His eyes softly bore into yours. His voice becomes soft as he drops it to whisper, “Please.”

It feels as though your mind is completely blank. You never expected anything that happened tonight to happen and yet you’re even more surprised by Jin’s appearance and request. It seems to be a pattern with him and the other boys to make every interaction with them feel like something straight from a movie. And you don’t know whether it’s the way the light hits Jin’s face or the fact that your brain hasn’t fully comprehended what he asked, but you nod yes. You don’t exactly mind the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach when he smiles at you as though you made him the richest man on Earth.

Tags: @detectivebourbon @omgsuperstarg @eshika0102 @delightfulyoongi @boononx

[mikauzoran]

Adrienette Drabble Twenty-Eight: Shock

To be entirely fair, Gabriel would have finished the project earlier if he hadn’t been distracted by his concern over how Adrien was fairing at the party. Even after he’d received a text assuring him that Adrien was having a great time, Gabriel couldn’t seem to focus. There were just too many things that could go wrong. He’d almost asked Nathalie for his Miraculous back so that he could have Nooroo fly back and forth keeping tabs on Adrien.

“You’re still not done?” Nathalie blinked blearily at him from the atelier door a little after one in the morning. She wrapped the kimono-like dressing gown Emilie had bought her more tightly as she came over to stand next to him at his podium and rest her chin on his shoulder. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

“I’m almost finished. Go back to sleep.” Gabriel turned to press a fleeting kiss to the side of her head. “What are you doing up?”

“I had my phone on in case Adrien or you needed anything. Victor texted me a few minutes ago to let me know that he and Adrien were on their way home, and the text alert woke me up.”

“Go back to sleep,” Gabriel repeated softly. “I’ll finish up in a minute and be in shortly after I see that Adrien makes it home all right.”

“Very well. You know where to find me should you need anything.” Nathalie kissed her fiancé on the cheek and headed back to bed.

Ten minutes later, Gabriel was just shutting down his computer for the night when he heard the front door open.

“Adrien?” He caught his son halfway up the stairs.

“D-Dad. I didn’t think you’d actually still be up. I was just going to wake you,” Adrien explained, descending back into the foyer.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Gabriel fiddled with his glasses as he strode across the room to inspect his son. “How was the rest of the party?”

“Fine.” Adrien shrugged, blank-faced. “A bit of a rollercoaster. After I texted you, I was talking with a girl in my class, Alix, and that went pretty well. I was actually thinking of inviting her over to try out the skatepark in the basement, if that’s okay.”

“Alix…Chronogirl? The pink-haired skater girl?” Gabriel confirmed.

“Uh…yeah.” Adrien nodded, trying not to linger too much over his father being more familiar with his classmates’ names when they had been akumatized than their given names.

“I don’t see that being a problem.” Gabriel agreed easily. “Please discuss a time with Alix and clear it with Nathalie. What happened after that?”

Adrien winced. “Some jock guy was being a jerk. There was a misunderstanding about one of my ex-girlfriends who he has a thing for. It’s not a big deal, so you don’t need to hire a hitman or anything. It was just kind of upsetting. Then I ran into…” Adrien cleared his throat.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Gabriel guessed.

“Er…not yet.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you blushing?”

“Uh…I’m not. It’s probably just the lighting,” Adrien lied. “Your eyes are tired from looking at your screen all night.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “Is there another girl now?”

Adrien schooled his facial features into a nonresponsive mask. “No. No, there is not. Do you remember Luka Couffaine? Blue hair, my classmate Juleka’s older brother, I used to take guitar lessons from him until you found out and forbade it?” Adrien forced a smile.

“Silence. Yes?” Gabriel frowned. “You ran into him?”

“And got swept off his feet,” Plagg snickered.

“Plagg!” Adrien yelped. “That is not what happened!”

“The kid was feeling dizzy, and Prince Charming helped him outside so he could get some air. Then he sat with him and got him some water and snacks, and they talked and had a bonding moment over opera and classical music—apparently Prince Charming has a thing for Ravel—and then they danced, if you can call that dancing,” Plagg cackled, darting about so that Adrien couldn’t catch him.

“Plagg, if you say another word, I am never feeding you again!” Adrien threatened.

With a gleeful chuckle, Plagg landed and curled up on Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel stared at his son in concern. “What actually happened?”

Adrien blushed. He hadn’t intended to do more than mention Luka in passing. The whole “yes, I would kiss a boy, but you don’t have to worry about me dating them” thing was still extremely new, and Adrien really didn’t want to push his luck with this yet.

“So…some of the things that that jock guy that I mentioned before said to me were pretty hurtful and upsetting. They kind of triggered a panic attack, and I ran into Luka literally, and it turns out he knows someone who has panic attacks, so he’s really good at talking people through them. He took me outside and helped me sit down and loosened my tie for me and sat with me and got me something to drink and something to eat, and he talked to me, and he was really kind and really considerate, and he said so many nice things to me. Like, genuinely nice things. He wasn’t just sucking up and trying to get in good with me because I have money. He wasn’t being fake, and he wasn’t just trying to get into my pants. I’ve dealt with all of those kinds of people before, and Luka wasn’t like that. He was just being himself, and I was kind of just being myself, and now we might be friends.”

Gabriel pursed his lips and cleared his throat. “So…he didn’t…try to kiss you or anything?”

Plagg let out a sharp laugh. “Other way around.”

Gabriel and Adrien both went wide-eyed.

“That is a lie!” Adrien squeaked. “Why would you even say that?!”

Plagg held up his paws in surrender. “I must have been mistaken. I thought I saw you making eyes at him and leaning in.”

“You were mistaken,” Adrien grumpily assured, making a mental note to donate all the Camembert in his fridge to charity and replace it with cheap grocery store slices. “Making out with anyone—boy or girl—in public was expressly against the rules. I would never do something like that.”

“I thought you told Luka that it only counted if someone got it on camera,” Plagg hummed. “Or did I misunderstand the way that you winked at him too?”

Adrien’s face went white, and he buried it in his hands. “Why are you doing this to me?” he groaned. “Have I not had a bad enough night that you feel that you have to make it worse?!”

“I’m doing this because you’re in shock, and, pretty soon, the shock is going to wear off and you’re going to have another meltdown,” Plagg snorted.

Gabriel glanced back and forth between the kwami and his son.

“I think it might be helpful for your father to have the whole story straight,” Plagg explained.

“How is me flirting with another guy relevant?!” Adrien shrieked, glaring at his kwami.

As soon as the words left his lips and truly registered to Adrien, he clapped a hand over his mouth.

Gabriel grimaced in sympathy. “…Did Monsieur Couffaine flirt back?”

Adrien nodded, ears turning scarlet. He lowered his hand. “He said I was cute. That I was funny and interesting and someone he’d like to get to know. It wasn’t anything serious. We were just play-flirting. Nothing happened. It was just for fun.”

“I see.” Not for the first time, Gabriel did not see, but he wasn’t about to ask for an explanation because it was apparent that they were on a very sensitive subject and that something had happened with Marinette and that Plagg was positive that Adrien was going to be having an episode any time now. “And…you two danced?”

Adrien nodded.

“…Like those pictures of you dancing with Monsieur Lahiffe at the karaoke bar the other night?” Gabriel mentally winced at the thought of his son dancing so intimately with another man, a man that Gabriel did not know well, that Gabriel did not trust to act in his son’s best interests.

“A little like that,” Plagg answered on Adrien’s behalf. “A little more intimately, I think. They were both really into it.”

“Plagg, are you trying to get me akumatized out of sheer mortification?” Adrien groaned. “It didn’t mean anything. I was just having fun dancing with a friend who happens to be a guy, and we both think the other is attractive, but nothing is actually going to happen because I don’t sleep with guys, and he’s dating Marinette. Let’s talk about that instead please.”

Gabriel nearly fell over. “Miss Dupain-Cheng is seeing someone?”

“Apparently she’s been dating Luka for two weeks now,” Adrien sighed.

“When did she tell you?” Gabriel demanded. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“I found out about an hour and a half ago from Luka while we were dancing. He thought I knew. I didn’t. Now I do. It kind of sucked because this really nice, attractive guy has been paying attention to me and making me feel good about myself for the past hour, and then he goes and says that he’s dating my girlfriend, but he’s so freaking wonderful that how the heck can I even be mad at him?” Adrien rattled off. “He obviously doesn’t know about Marinette and me from the way he was acting, so, apparently, I’m not the only one she has communication issues with.”

“What happened after you found out?” Gabriel prompted carefully, not needing his Miraculous to sense that Plagg was indeed correct and that another meltdown would be coming on presently.

“I made my excuses and calmly walked away to find somewhere I could be alone.” Adrien shrugged, all of his earlier animation draining out of him. “Then someone went to go get Marinette because they were afraid I was going to throw myself over the side of the ship and drown.”

Gabriel flinched. “Was…this concern unfounded?”

Adrien bit his lip. “Yes and no. The Seine is filthy. I know because I’ve been thrown into it on several different occasions, and I would never voluntarily jump in without good reason. If I were going to drown myself, I’d do it at the Bois de Boulogne.”

Gabriel’s heart sank as he realized, “You’ve thought about this.”

Adrien averted his gaze. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I needed a therapist. …So…tonight, I was in a pretty bad place, and it’s probably for the best that Plagg got Marinette for me to talk to.”

“What did she say?” Gabriel didn’t really want to know. He genuinely liked Marinette, but it was difficult to keep liking her when she kept putting his son’s heart through the shredder.

Adrien shrugged again, slumping against the banister. “A lot of things. We talked for a long time about a lot of things that we should have spread over the years. It was all stuff that we needed to talk about at some point. Some of it really helped. Some of it made me feel worse than ever. We screamed at each other and then kind of made up, but then we yelled at each other some more and then sort of reconciled again. I think we both had some really good points, but we both spouted a lot of utter stupidity too.”

Adrien looked up at his father, not bothering to wipe away the tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. “I still love her madly, but tonight made me think that maybe I shouldn’t worship her so much. Yeah, she’s brilliant, and she works actual miracles, but she also makes mistakes and does really stupid stuff. Tonight, I thought, ‘God, she’s dumb. Like how does someone screw something up this badly?’ But then I kind of felt better because…I’m not the only screwup.” He scuffed thoughtfully at the marble floor with the toe of his dress shoe.

Gabriel tentatively rested a supportive hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

Adrien took a deep breath and continued, “I realized that she’s not unshakeable. She’s not infallible. She’s really messed up too; she just did a good job of covering it up. She doesn’t know what she’s doing all the time, and she doesn’t get it right every time either. Maybe…” He licked his lips nervously. “…she’s not so much better than I am after all. I think that’s…good…because that means she’s not as out of my league as I thought. She’s not unattainable…but…that’s bad because we’re stuck in this mess, and maybe she doesn’t know how to fix it either. I always count on her to make everything right again after I break something, but…maybe she can’t. Maybe I have to fix it myself, and that’s…scary. But I’m rambling. Am I making any sense?”

Adrien looked up searchingly at Gabriel for guidance.

Gabriel stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his son, pulling Adrien in tight. “You’re making a lot of sense. It sounds like it was good that you two talked, even if it was upsetting.”

Adrien crumpled into his father’s embrace, trembling as the tears started to come faster and more urgently. “She doesn’t love me.”

“You don’t know that,” Gabriel soothed as best as he could. He always felt so under water when it came to dealing with emotions. “Miss Dupain-Cheng cares about you a great deal; even I can tell…. Did she tell you that she doesn’t love you?”

Adrien nodded into Gabriel’s shoulder. “She said that she loves me as a friend but that she doesn’t think she knows what it means to love someone romantically the way that I love her. Before…she told me that she loved me, but today she said that she didn’t mean the same thing that I’d meant when I’d told her I loved her. I thought things were going to be okay because we were both on the same page with how we felt about one another, but… How can she not know what it means to love someone romantically? She sounded sincere, but…do you think she was just saying that to let me down gently because she’d changed her mind?”

Internally, Gabriel cursed. What did one say in situations like this? The guidebooks had not expressly dealt with these circumstances, and Gabriel was not confident in his ability to adapt advice for other situations to fit his own extemporaneously.

Gabriel was on his own.

“I think…it’s not very common for people your age to love as maturely as you do, Adrien.” Gabriel made his best attempt. “Honestly, when you told me you were in love a little over a month ago, I was shocked to hear you describe true love as taking care of sick children together and picking out shades of paint for a house and dealing with morning sickness. I don’t think most people your age really consider the quotidian minutia of sharing a life with someone when they say the word ‘love’. I think, at your age, ‘love’ means the euphoria of physical attraction and physical affection coupled with an emotional fondness. I am sure there are some exceptions, like yourself, but I would be willing to believe that Miss Dupain-Cheng was telling the truth when she said that she hadn’t meant the same things you did when you told one another that you loved each other.”

Gabriel bit his lip as he hesitantly added, “I’m sorry. I don’t know if that makes things better or worse.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien sniffled. “It hurts, but…at least she wasn’t lying to me…ostensibly.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Gabriel offered.

Adrien shrugged weakly. “I don’t even know. I’m so tired. I don’t… Everything’s still a blur. It’s all running together.”

“Do you want to go to sleep?” Gabriel tried. “Do you need me to sit up with you?”

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know what I want. It’s all… Dad, I think I lost her.”

Gabriel was tempted to tell his son not to give up, but he was afraid of giving Adrien false hope. “Why do you say that?”

“Because she doesn’t love me,” Adrien mumbled hollowly. “She didn’t promise me a relationship after she gets her thoughts and feelings straight. She told me not to wait for her, and it sounds like she’s not waiting for me. It’s like all the bonds that were keeping us together have been broken. And now she’s dating Luka, and she’s going to fall in love with him.”

Gabriel squeezed Adrien tighter. “I could…I’m not sure. There has to be something nefarious I could do to keep them apart with as much money as I have. I could bribe someone or have someone dig up something on his mother or—”

“—Dad?” Adrien sighed, pulling back to look up into Gabriel’s eyes. “Thanks, but don’t. Luka’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to have anything bad happen to him just because he stepped on some rich brat’s toes. I wish I could hate him and blame him for everything, but I can’t. I like him…and I want Marinette to be happy, even if I kind of hate her right now. If Luka takes care of her half as well as he took care of me, I’m glad that she has someone like that in her life. I’m just…kind of wrecked over the fact that it isn’t me.”

Gabriel deflated. “…That’s very mature of you.”

Adrien shrugged. “I’ve thrown enough jealous, petulant fits over the years that I’ve picked up on the fact that nothing good ever comes of them. I don’t know if resignation to misery is necessarily any better, but I’m too tired to fight this right now.”

Gabriel frowned sympathetically. “There’s nothing I can do to make this better, is there?”

Adrien shook his head, stepping back out of his father’s hold. “No. I think things are just going to suck for a long time…. I’m going to jump in the shower and head to bed. I’m probably not getting out of bed tomorrow. We’ll see about Monday, but I’m not optimistic. I’ll go to my doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, though.”

“Shouldn’t we see if we can’t get you in sooner?” Gabriel wondered. “You seem fairly…lucid, I suppose, right now, but…this calm feels untenable.”

Adrien shook his head. “I need some time to process things before I can talk about them. I don’t really want to deal with people right now.” To accentuate his point, Adrien pulled out his phone and held it out to his father. “Could you take this? I turned it off because Nino’s kind of blowing it up. I don’t want to talk to him.”

Gabriel pocketed the phone. “Did Monsieur Lahiffe do something wrong in particular, or are you just avoiding people in general?”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone…but, yeah, I’m kind of upset with Nino. I’m trying not to be, but…he knew about Luka and didn’t tell me,” Adrien grumbled, kicking at the floor. “Apparently, they were trying to decide who was going to do it and how they wanted to do it, but…I mean, a best friend tells you stuff like that right away, right? I know he probably thought he was doing the right thing by waiting, but…” He shook his head. “I’ve decided that I’m mad at him. If he shows up here tomorrow, I’m not home. I’ll talk to him again on Wednesday. Maybe.”

“All right,” Gabriel easily agreed. “I’ll let the others know he’s blacklisted. Is there anything else?”

Adrien bit his lip and twisted his ring nervously around his finger. “I actually have a pretty big favor to ask.”

“Of course,” Gabriel assured. “What is it?”

Adrien slid the Miraculous off of his finger and held it out to his father. “I need you to hold onto this for me.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back, shaking his head.

Adrien took a step forward. “I’m not giving it to you. It’s still mine. I just need you to hold onto the physical vessel for now. I’m in pretty bad shape. I can feel my composure cracking, and I don’t see how I can avoid being akumatized this time. When that happens, I can’t be wearing the ring. I need you to keep Plagg safe for me. Please, Dad.” Fresh tears welled up and spilled down Adrien’s cheeks. “I would never be able to forgive myself if Papillon got his hands on Plagg. I need you to protect him until Ladybug can get here, okay?”

Gabriel pulled Adrien back into his chest and squeezed hard. He was too choked up himself to say a word. He held Adrien for a long time before pulling back and tentatively accepting the ring.

“Don’t worry about Plagg. I won’t let anything happen to him…to either of you,” Gabriel swore. “You just worry about yourself for now. Go to sleep, Adrien. Come and get me if you need anything during the night. Or send Plagg or use the landline in your room to call me. If you need anything at all, all right?”

Adrien nodded, clapping his father on the arm. “Thanks, Dad.” He turned and slowly trudged up the stairs. He paused at the top. “And thank you for letting me go to the party. Yeah, parts of it really sucked, but I had a lot of fun too. I was glad I got to go, so thanks for trusting me.”

Gabriel nodded, voice stuck in his throat. He wished the whole party had gone better. He watched Adrien disappear into his room and then looked down at the ring in his palm.

“Funny,” Gabriel whispered, slipping it onto his finger. “I worked so long and fought so hard for this. Now, I don’t want it.”

“Life is ironic,” Plagg snorted.

“You should go with Adrien,” Gabriel urged.

Plagg shook his head. “Give him a moment of privacy. I’ll go in there in a sec to make sure he doesn’t space out and accidentally drown in the shower, but, for now, let’s give him a few minutes alone.”

Gabriel sighed, looking up in concern at Adrien’s door. “…Anything else I should know about what happened tonight?”

“He told you the important parts. I was concerned he was going to leave out the bits with Luka because you’re a little squeamish when it comes to romance between two guys,” Plagg mumbled.

“Is that why you bullied him into talking about it?” Gabriel wondered.

Plagg nodded. “I doubt there will ever be a relationship for you to worry about, but the kid really is drawn to that Luka guy. Maybe not right now, but eventually the kid might try to get closer to him. They’d make good friends, and Luka might prove to be a role model or confidant. I think it would be good for the kid to have Luka in his life, so I wanted you to know that there were feelings involved so you didn’t do or say anything to mess that up.”

“You could have explained it to me yourself later. You didn’t have to make Adrien talk to me about it when he obviously didn’t want to,” Gabriel scolded.

Plagg shook his head slowly. “Adrien needed to know that he could talk to you about guys he’s attracted to. He needed to know that you really meant it when you said you’d love him anyway if he were interested in other men. He’s in the middle of a crisis, and he needed to know that you had his back no matter what, especially when he’d just been let down by his close friends. He needed that conversation, even if he didn’t want to have it.”

Gabriel reflected silently for a moment. “…Well played, Plagg.”

“I get it right sometimes.” Plagg shrugged. “You got it right today.”

“I tried,” Gabriel snorted self-depreciatingly. “I don’t know that I was much help, and I still feel like it’s too little too late, but…he seems to appreciate that I’m trying.”

“He does,” Plagg assured. “He’s like a puppy. He forgives easily, and any kind of affection at all makes him ecstatic. He’s not hard to love…and you’re doing a lot better. I’m proud of you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed. “Thank you, Plagg…. Will you go check on him now?”

“On it. I’ll keep you posted,” Plagg informed, flying up and through the bedroom door.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Find My Way Back to You”

(I started this one shot before the episode "A Wondrous Place" aired, and therefore it picks up right where "Page 23" (6x14) ended. It allows for Snow to do more what I would have loved to have seen from her in 6x15 – encourage Emma that there is no way her True Love would leave her, and take action to help her daughter find out what is wrong. In general, I wanted the Charmings to be more concerned about Killian and know that his just vanishing after a fight didn't add up, so I wrote it. Also, my first thought at Gideon not wanting Killian around was that he had a curse planned for Emma. I still wanted them have an actual, magical whoosh of air, rainbow-tinged TLK as well, so needless to say, this is what happened in response to all of that going on in my mind. When I saw the post about reviving Self-Promo Sunday going around, I went back through my old stories, looking for one I hadn’t enjoyed in a while or that I thought folks might have missed, and this is the one that grabbed me. Hope you enjoy and I’d love to know what you think!)

“Find My Way Back to You”

By: @snowbellewells (or TutorGirlml on ff.net)

Three a.m. and still no sign of her pirate. Their huge two story house feels as cold and empty in the silent dark of late night turned early morning as it had during those nightmarish days when she had ensconced herself in it as the Dark One in her solitary lair. Just as those ghastly memories have begun to vanish for good, the foreboding tendrils wind their way back in Killian's absence. She did this; her eyes close as she once more stares out the window into the dark, deserted yard, forehead resting against the frigid glass, chilling her skin along with the cold she feels spreading through her chest. Unbidden, Killian's pointed, angry words as the Dark One himself ring in her mind – cutting like tiny knives – "you push away anyone who gets close to you…that's why you'll always be an orphan…"

Knowing now that he does not truly feel that way, that he hates she had ever heard those words from his lips, does little to comfort her alone in the still watch of the night. The remembrance of cold winter nights curled up together under heaps of cozy blankets as he whispered and kissed the very opposite into her skin – how bloody brilliant she is, how she is his match, his other half, how they will always have each other and never be alone again, how he will never leave her – is cold comfort now that she fears she has driven him away.

Listlessness overtakes the Savior as she paces a sleepless route from window to sink to the living room couch and back again, peace and rest as far from her as they have ever been. At last, she curls into the oversized armchair in the corner, the one which has become Killian's favorite place to read the piles of books that both Belle and Henry recommend and loan him, her eyes glazing over until she barely notices the dark lightening to grey, then streaking the sky with pinks and golds as the sun rises again. The new day dawns with her True Love missing, and though she still believes in him and clings to her faith that he wouldn't desert her, he isn't here. She had been justified in what she'd said to him – he does have to trust her, just as she must have faith in him – but the fact that he is out there alone somewhere hurting and drowning in self-hatred, that he didn't feel welcome in their home, makes the words, warranted or not, feel hollow.

When the door creaks open and her mother enters, there to pick Emma up for their near-weekly breakfast at Granny's, Emma barely flinches or even looks up at Snow's chipper greeting. It doesn't take long for her mother to gather that something isn't right when Emma gives no answer, and when she rounds the corner into the living room to find her grown daughter curled up as small as she can make herself in the chair, arms around her legs and chin resting on her knees, Snow's happily excited face falls rapidly.

She comes to kneel in front of her child, resting her hands over Emma's clenched ones soothingly, and looking up into her blank, unfocused face. "Honey?... Emma?" She chafes her hands up and down her daughter's forearms until Emma finally startles slightly and seems to register her mother's presence. "What is it? Are you alright? …Where's Killian?"

It is this last question which finally seems to snap her daughter back into the present, and as she turns to really focus on Snow, her stoic façade truly crumbles. Shaking her head, she finally clasps her mother's hand in return, and whispers in as fragile a voice as her mother has ever heard her use, "I don't know, Mom… I don't know."

"Well, come then," Snow soothes, pulling Emma to her in a hug, and holding her as she rocks back and forth slightly, comforting her princess as she aches to have done all those missed years Emma had been growing up. When she sits back slightly, gently brushing back the loose strands of hair that have escaped Emma's braid with maternal tenderness, "We need to go find him," she urges. "The way that man loves you? Whatever happened with the two of you, you'll work it out. He's probably on his way to you as we speak."

Emma knows her mother doesn't have the whole story, but despite all that, Snow's patent hope and optimism bolster her spirits enough to urge her to her feet as her mother pulls her up and for her to soon be leading the way down to the docks in search of her pirate.

So it is a sleep-deprived, fuzzy and anxiety-distracted version of herself who stands on the wooden planks, frozen in unprepared surprise and vulnerability when Gideon materializes behind them, malicious grin on his face and a taunt on his cruelly curved lips. "Looking for someone, 'Savior'?"

Emma scowls, feeling the heat in her blood rising angrily at the look on his face – just knowing without a doubt that this freak has done something to keep Killian from her, to keep him from coming back home. "You know that I am. What have you done with him?" she growls.

"Nothing really," Gideon shrugs nonchalantly, gloating at his power over the situation, much in the way his father always has. "He'll be quite alright, I'm sure. He's just several thousand leagues under the sea – well away from here and unable to disrupt my plans."

"Your plans?!" Emma spits. "Just what are you planning anyway, you sick little – "

But before she can finish, Gideon flings out a glowing hand, magic shooting toward her from it at top speed. Emma is quick and reacts to throw up a defensive shield, but not quick enough. She has been fighting nonstop for so long, one villain, realm, and catastrophe after another, to save everyone but herself, and she is just too tired. Her sleepless night, distress, and the lackluster concern for her own safety all work against her to let Gideon gain the edge, and she freezes for a second as what he has thrown at her makes impact. Then, her eyes glass over, fall closed, and she crumples senseless to the wooden surface of the pier.

Snow is stock-still and speechless at her side, too shocked to move at their robed attacker's sudden appearance, until Emma falls. On her knees beside her daughter instantly, a cry of distress escapes the Enchanted Forest's monarch as she shakes Emma's shoulder in futile hope of rousing her.

"That won't work," Gideon intones confidently as he watches her efforts. "You of all people ought to recognize the spell, Snow White. But I've tweaked it a bit for my own purposes. Take it from someone who – like your daughter – grew up painfully without a mother, whatever the reasons, I'm not sure you could waken her, even without my refinements. All the same, I've guarded against it, just in case. You will keep her safe though, until I decide what to do with her, won't you?" And with a sickeningly self-satisfied smile, he vanishes in a red column of magical smoke.

~ CS ~ CS ~ CS ~

Killian Jones is beside himself as the Nautilus finally resurfaces in Storybrooke's harbor once more. If it weren't for Nemo, Liam, and the once again fortuitously met Ariel, he would probably have pulled all his hair out or maimed his one good hand from punching walls in frustration. As is, it has been nearly a week since their ship had been sent forcibly from the Land Without Magic. In every waking moment since – and they've all been waking; he cannot sleep, only pace his quarters, stomach churning at the thought that he will have appeared to abandon Emma like so many before him – he has been struggling, racing against time, desperate to get back to his Love. Not only can he not bear the thought of her hurting because of him, of it seeming for even a second that he would desert her, but the more time passes and the more complicated it has proved to get back home, the more frighteningly sure Killian has become that Gideon needed him specifically out of the picture. Whatever the Dark One's spawn has in mind, it means danger for Emma, and he isn't there to fight at her side.

With hardly a backward glance, he tears from the hold and clamors up onto the docks. Running toward their shared home as if that wretched hell hound from the Underworld is on his heels once more, Killian barely calls a 'thank you' over his shoulder to his comrades before he is halfway up the street.

Bursting through the front door after clattering up the steps of their porch, Killian calls out Emma's name, hoarse with panic, even as he can clearly see that the lights are dim and the place is eerily still. When searching every room on the first floor in rapid succession yields nothing, he bounds up the stairs to their bedroom, still crying out for his Swan; still hoping against hope that she will rise from their bed to welcome him, arms outstretched and both of their sins ready to be forgiven with love.

Finding that room empty and cold as well is the battering ram which almost breaks him. 'Where is she?' 'What's happened to her?' repeats round and round in his head, as his adrenaline flees and he sinks on suddenly weak, shaking legs to the edge of the bed, praying she is alright, that she hasn't given up on him and left this home they dreamed of for so long – that he isn't too late. For a moment, he buries his face in his hand, a few tears leaking from his eyes here in this dusky quiet where no one else can see.

His despair does not last though – whether it is the small kernel of undefeatable hope, purpose, love for Emma – for his family – or just plain stubbornness; whatever it is that has kept him pressing on throughout lonely centuries, it pulls Killian Jones to his feet again. Soon he is back down the stairs, across the porch and moving down the street, instinct and his heart guiding him where he needs to go, and urging him forward as quickly as he can get there.

At Emma's parents' loft apartment, he hesitates only briefly, steeling himself with a deep breath for the anger and betrayal he may face, and the fist to the nose Dave may greet him with. But he doesn't have time to waste; he has already been gone too long. With every moment he is apart from his Swan, his desperation and fear for her grows, and he cannot help imagining worse and worse reasons why Gideon might have wanted him far away.

Knocking on the door, mouth dry, heart pounding, Killian only has moments to contemplate what to say, if he will have to push them aside to gain entrance, if he will be able to stand the harsh words he is bound to hear and the disappointment in eyes that had finally begun to regard him as a part of their family, when he hears the lock turn and then it swings open to reveal a rumpled-looking and red-eyed Snow White. To his shock, and throwing him completely off balance, Snow reaches for his arm and pulls him into the apartment, hugging him tightly with her voice muffled against his jacket as she says, "Thank goodness you're here, Killian! It was starting to look like something awful had happened to you…"

Killian sputters disbelievingly even as Snow pulls away, wiping her cheeks and sniffling a bit, and allows her to drag him further into the main room, even as he stumbles over his own feet. "But…I…You are? Did Emma not tell you what I've done?"

Snow shakes her head, dithering and waving her hand as if to bat his qualms away. "She didn't explain…just that she didn't know where you were." And here the rightful ruler of the Enchanted Forest gives him the smallest of sad little smiles, "None of that matters right now. We need you… Emma needs you."

"Doesn't matter?" Killian repeats, blinking and completely nonplussed.

Snow dips her head, hiding her expression from him as she leads him on by the hand, up the steps to the room Killian knows was Emma's for a short time.

However, if he had thought himself confused and troubled already, it is nothing compared to the sight which overwhelms him upon entering Emma's small boudoir. There, lying as if in peaceful, permanent slumber, is his Emma, stretched out upon the bed, eyes closed in seeming rest with her golden hair arrayed across the pillow in a spill of light and hands folded over each other on her stomach. Yet, having felt her curled against him many times in the tiniest possible ball, as if protecting herself even in sleep, and knowing how often she tosses and turns tangling her long legs in the sheets, Killian realizes immediately something is not right – Emma is never so still.

Even if that had not alerted him, the appearance of David, Henry, and Belle around the bed would have, Dave slumped in a chair by the nightstand, looking devastated and lost as he watches over his daughter, and Henry, head bowed and silent, seated on the bed by his mother's feet, while Belle stands near him, worried and torn, her hand on her grandson's shoulder. It flashes through his head that they resemble the mournful tableau around a glass coffin in the cartoon Emma and Henry had gleefully shown him some weeks ago, the one that supposedly told her parents' story. Except these were not somewhat cutesy hand drawn dwarves; these were the members of his family, and he had no such illusions that things could be righted as instantaneously. Surely if the immediately obvious solution could work, they would have done it already?

Slow, hesitant steps bring him closer to the bed where his princess, his True Love, lies. And though he wants to fall to his knees, rail and scream at the universe and the unfairness of her loss, he finds that he can only stare dazedly until he finally reaches her other side, and runs a tender, aching finger along a strand of her hair.

David looks up at his entrance, and though his mouth tightens in a hard, thin line, he says nothing, spews none of the accusations Killian had expected from him, nor does he order the pirate from his home.

"Dave…I…" Killian starts, swallowing hard and trying to offer any kind of apology that could possibly seem like enough. Even if the other man doesn't know the horrible discovery about his father's long ago murder, Prince Charming may well believe that Killian left his daughter without a word when she was in grave danger and needing his support.

But the prince shakes his head slowly, dismissing the need. "All of that can wait for later," he sighs, voice low and ragged. "I know something wasn't right with your disappearance anyway. Just… please … wake my daughter."

Killian is taken aback, jerking upright in surprise. "How can I?" he asks, reaching to twine his fingers with Emma's limp, cool ones, needing the contact whether she can press his in return or no. "If you or Henry couldn't wake her, why would I be able to, after how I've ruined what was between us?'

Belle speaks up then, her voice shaky with a clear mix of concern and guilt. "The best we can figure is that G-Gideon altered the Sleeping Curse. Possibly because Henry has shared a True Love's Kiss with her before, he is unable to repeat the action? And…" she trails off hesitantly, and David picks up the explanation.

"…And because Snow and I weren't there for her all those years, despite my best intentions, in some way I did fail her. At any rate, what we have with our own daughter must not be strong enough to be True Love either." His head bows again to rest on Emma's shoulder, the agonized emotion in her father's voice and the defeated curve of his strong shoulders unravels Killian that much more.

Then Snow speaks up just behind him, her voice soft yet full of hope as she prods him with a hand at his back. "You're the only one who can bring her back, Killian. I know it! I've never seen her look at anyone else the way she does at you. She wasn't herself without you, even before Gideon did this, and she needs to know you're here."

Shaking his head, Killian licks his lips nervously, going down on one knees at Emma's side, pulling her hand to his chest and looking at her son. Henry meets his gaze and gives his mom's other True Love a nod of urging encouragement, a tiny, watery grin lifting one corner of his mouth.

Bending his head to the pillow beside hers, Killian closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage and praying that the bond they have shared is still alive; for she does not deserve this fate. "Swan, I love you… more than I can ever express, despite how I must have hurt you unwillingly. Please… come back to us. Come back to me."

Then, with infinite adoration he leans forward, pressing his lips to hers once more in a sweet kiss. He has missed her so much in the past day and night that it feels instantly as if he is once more whole – like he has finally, truly come home. In the following second, a whoosh of air and light sweeps through the room, ruffling their hair and clothes, sweeping up and invigorating them all. Rainbow color seems to radiate out in a wave of electric power from where their lips meet, and it steals Killian's breath. His heart near ceases to beat as he stares in awe at his princess' face.

Emma's lashes flutter, then she blinks rapidly, sucking in a huge gasp of air as she stirs, and finally Killian feels as if he can breathe again. She sits up quickly, a smile lighting her face as she reaches out for him and pulls him close desperately. "Killian," she exclaims, "you came back!"

Tears threaten, and he has to swallow several times to answer in a rough murmur, "Emma…Love…of course, I did. I never wanted to leave you."

She nods against his shoulder, burrowing closer in his embrace, and neither of them even budge when first Henry, and then the rest pile on in relief and joy, making it a chaotic, clumsy six-person hug. The warmth and belonging spread through his veins and push out the chill loneliness Killian had feared taking over him once more. Laughing and breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of her, he buries his nose in Emma's hair, feels Henry and Belle at his back, and lets Snow's hope fill the last empty cracks hidden away in his soul. No more fear of being lost at sea. He has his harbor, and he means to stay.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @laschatzi @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @let-it-raines @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @aloha-4-ever @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 @linda8084 @branlovestowrite @effulgentcolors @kymbersmith-90 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @hookedonapirate @bmbbcs4evr

[jellidile]

Want him home (Vergil x reader)

I was tired for every second I wrote this, I don’t know how good it is, but if someone here enjoys it, then its good enough for me! (Also, again, AU where Vergil isn’t dead *wheeze* I just want him back)

Vergil goes missing, everyone is sad

You lay numb in your bed. Long having run out of tears. The blue sheets never seeming to warm without him. Vergil was missing now for a week. Dante had assured you the job would be simple. Vergil had assured you the job would be safe. He would come back in a day or two. In the privacy of his room, he gave you a last kiss. His unspoken way of proving his love to you. Then Dante came home alone. He avoided your eyes, and when Vergil didn’t walk through the door scolding Dante… You didn’t get many details. Not that you wanted them. You just wanted Vergil.

The door to the shop opened and you could hear Dante mumble something before the door closed. You weren’t going to sleep tonight. That wasn’t new. You had only been sleeping when it was halfway through the next day and your exhaustion would cause you to pass out wherever. Slipping on one of Vergil’s sweaters you headed into the downstairs of Devil May Cry.

On the couch sat a very familiar raven-haired hunter. Lady peeked up from her book and sighed as you walked past. Flipping on the electric kettle you grabbed a mug and tea bag. There was shuffling from Lady as she turned off the kettle and drew your hands away from the cup,

“Go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Bullshit.” you couldn’t even form a laugh. Lady sighed placing a hand on your back,

“You’ve got Dante worried sweetheart, and I won’t lie, I’m worried too. Everyone is worried. I understand you’re hurting, but wallowing in misery won’t help.” you knew that. Every time you felt the emotions bubbling up you couldn’t help but curse yourself. You held your breath. The same feeling creeping up your throat. You buried your head into the black sweater. Trying to block out the oncoming sob with tender memories. Lady tightened her grip into a hug. The memories did nothing and you held in a sob. You cried into Lady. Words tumbled out of your mouth, but they were too garbled to understand. It was a while before you stopped, but when your sobs turned into whimpers, and your eyes began to close. Lady sighed walking you back to your room. You could only mumble one last thought before the exhaustion of the week of misery caught up to you,

“I want him home.”

Dante punched a building. The brick curved inwards as he pulled his hand back. He’d been so stupid. His gut screamed that something was wrong. But the idea of quick cash… He growled placing his hands in his pocket and sulking. At night he could hear you cry. At night he could hear Vergil yelling at him,

“Dante! Get over here!” Vergil would never admit it, but Dante heard the fear in his voice. He sighed as he walked around. He had no idea where the thing had taken Vergil. A part of him hoped that it had just gone to another part of the city. But he looked everywhere, and he couldn’t sense his brother. Vergil had been wary of the entire mission. He managed to dodge the demons ambush attack, but Dante didn’t. So Vergil attacked, freeing Dante and leaving himself open. Ducking into an alley Dante slid to the ground. Burying his face into his hands, Dante sat alone in the dark. This was his fault.

Vergil groaned his eyes burning as they focussed. He remembered the fight only barely. Red clouded his vision and he felt numb. Something had grabbed Dante… then he? The buzzing ambience of the room blared in his ears. Muddled voices floated behind him. Something closed around his neck and began to choke him. He was confused as black dots clouded his vision. The tension released and he coughed. He let his eyes focus and grimaced at the scene before him. Blood covered the ground, seeming to have come from him. Blank stone walls stared back at him as voices spoke in hushed tones,

“Why doesn’t he speak?”

“Master won’t like that…”

“Wake him. Wake the half-breed.” He coughed out blood that had collected in his mouth and growled,

“Who the hell are you, to call me that?” There was a hiss as something seared his back. He held back a scream,

“Hush seed of sin. Where is the sword?” He huffed saying nothing. The burning sensation cut into his skin and he clenched his teeth. The whispered voice growled into his ear,

“Where is the sword?”

“I thought you said, hush?” Normally he wouldn’t be as petty as this. But you try saving your idiot brother only to be tortured. Torture that -much to Vergil’s dismay- lasted for what felt like hours.

His body burned and the chains holding up his wrists cut into his skin. Coat and shirt cut to hell, he tried to move, all of his energy drained. He’d been moved to this blank bloody cell a while ago. He wondered how much time had really passed. His refusal to scream left him weak and constantly passing out during the torture. They never changed their question. Vergil had no idea what sword they were talking about. A sickening voice grated on his ears,

“The Dante boy looks a little different from the descriptions we got… Surely we didn’t grab the wrong one…” Vergil saw two demons, they looked almost like Mephistos but their vaguely human heads covered in bandages left him unsure. The other spoke much softer,

“White hair, an aura like you wouldn’t believe. Incredibly strong and quick-witted, this is the one.” Vergil hissed loudly wriggling his torso as his legs still refused to move,

“Let go of me you wretches.” they turned to him. The one that sounded like nails on a chalkboard pulled out a pure white feather grinning,

“Hello, seed of Sparda! How do you like the lashes we gave you? Finding it difficult to move?” Vergil could feel his legs again, though weakly. He shook his head. The demon laughed,

“So brave… Too bad our master wants all obstacles gone. Well, I hope you liked the treat our friends gave you! I’ll be giving it to you again! Open wide filth!” Vergil tensed feeling his power rush through him. He waited for the demon to float closer before pulling as hard as he could on his restraints. With a snap, the chains holding his handcuffs broke. Forcefully his hands slammed onto the creatures head. He warped to the corner of the room, much to his delight Yamato sat waiting. Stumbling he picked up the blade and promptly summoned swords. The creatures shrieked charging at him. He weakly threw up spiral swords and warped past them. He didn’t know where he was going and he was blinded by pain. But one thought and one thought alone kept him moving. You.

Vergil stumbled blindly, you on his mind. He didn’t know how much time had passed. Were you okay? Was Dante taking care of you? Vergil felt sick, he hated thinking of you without him. He hated thinking that he didn’t even say he loved you before he left. Yamato buzzed in his hands. The sword wanted something.

Vergil could remember the voice in the sword. He would listen to its every beck and call. But one day the sword fell silent. Its energy still gave him clues, but there was no verbal communication.

Hearing screeches in the distance Vergil found a crevice to hide in. He huffed feeling himself slowly heal. Whatever he’d been hit with hurt. Whatever they did to him was severe enough for his healing to be delayed. Yamato buzzed again. Vergil coughed, his chest felt tight. He shrugged angrily,

“I don’t understand you, stupid sword.” Clattering to the ground, Yamato turned so the tip of its blade faced a long hallway. Quickly ducking into the hallway and picking up Yamato as he went Vergil limped down the hall. It was a dead end. Vergil glared at his sword. Unsheathing it and stabbing it into the ground. He didn’t even have time to let go when the floor fell away and he was sucked down.

Hitting concrete Vergil coughed. Looking around, the buildings were familiar. He was back in the city. He sighed putting Yamato away and leaning on a brick wall. Yamato got a free pass today,

“Don’t ever try that shit again.” The sword vibrated like it was laughing. Finding a street sign Vergil found his bearings. The shop wasn’t far, he had to get home. The welts he felt on his skin burned as they healed. Why they hadn’t healed when he was… wherever he was, he didn’t know. But he was glad they were now.

The lights of the shop were off on the downstairs. Vergil sighed stumbling into the alley. He hopped up to his window and slipped inside. Huffing he sat on the ground. His skin burned and he’d already thrown up twice walking back. He could feel himself gag, but there was nothing for him to cough up any more. Shuddering he lay on the wood floor. Just trying to breathe. For once he hated how cold he kept his room.

As he lay shivering and weak, his senses alerted him to someone else in the room. His muscles screamed at him to slow down but he had to know. Scrambling to his knees he crawled over to the side of his bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you. You were there. Asleep. Peaceful. He was about to assume you took his kidnapping well when he noticed your eyes seemed puffy. Then he noticed you were wearing one of his sweaters. The dark circles under your eyes, and when he felt your hair it was oily and tangled. Lying his head on the bed Vergil took one of your hands and held it close to his face. He would apologize in the morning. Gently he kissed your hand and got to his feet. Pulling the blue blankets over your noticeably thinner frame Vergil stumbled to the door. Silently he left and paused at the top of the stairs. He heard something he never thought he’d hear,

“I… I miss him. He’s my brother Lady. He’s annoying as fuck, but... I can’t believe I fucked up this royally.” The woman sighed patting his back,

“Dante. He’ll be fine. We’ll find him, and you can rest easy.” The unspoken bond between the brothers was clear when they fought together. Their unconventional tactics blending seamlessly into the others fighting style. The verbal confirmation of their tolerance for each other was… lacking. Taking a heavy step onto the first stair, Vergil huffed clutching the handrail for dear life,

“Dante… I’m never saving you again.” The look on Dante’s face was priceless. Vergil almost laughed but was interrupted by a coughing fit. When Dante rushed over to him, eyes filled with tears, Vergil found his own. He refused to let them fall. Dante lied him on the couch as the coughing stopped,

“Verge, what- What the hell happened to you?!” Vergil groaned,

“Dante, just… Torture you buffoon. Can I sleep now? Everything burns.” Dante nodded with an airy chuckle.

When Vergil woke he felt sore. He could barely move and he felt miserable. He heard voices,

“Don’t come downstairs just yeah darling. Dante has got a surprise for you.” Vergil almost cried out when he heard you speak,

“Okay… But… Last night… Someone opened my window.” He shot up and Dante was immediately covering his mouth as he groaned. The younger demon hissed quietly,

“Vergil!! Shut up!” Vergil grumbled. Resisting the urge to bite his brother. Dante sighed looking to the stairs,

“I don’t want her crushing you cause we both know she can. Also… I found this in your coat and I was wondering when you were going to mention it?” Dante pulled out the black ring box. Vergil glared daggers at Dante,

“Give it back!! I'm going to end you, Dante!!” Dante laughed pocketing the box,

“I’ll hold on to this for you.” there were heavy steps at the top of the stairs. Vergil and Dante froze listening to the two women talk,

“Lady please let me downstairs.”

“I can’t do that, Dante’s surprise…” There was a choked sob, and Vergil recognized the sound of Yamato unsheathing,

“He’s here Lady! If Yamato’s here! Please…” you sounded so broken... Vergil strained against Dante. The hand from earlier covering his mouth again. This time Vergil did bite Dante, and when Dante coiled back in pain Vergil called your name. In seconds you were hugging him. Sobbing into his bandaged chest. He sighed closing his arms around you. You squeezed him but he didn’t care how it stung. You were there,

“Hello, love. I missed you.” You smiled looking up at him managing a small laugh. Vergil pulled your head closer and pecked your forehead,

“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Vergil groaned pulling himself up to sit. You sat in his lap tears still pouring from your eyes as you slowly formed words,

“I should apologize Vergil… Look at me! I’m a mess… I should expect…” Vergil sighed holding your hand. He usually wouldn’t even cuddle when one of Dante’s friends were over. But Vergil sighed holding you close, he was too exhausted to care,

“I’m saying sorry because I didn’t tell you something before I left. Something I should always use words to convey.” You frowned looking up at him as he brought you into a kiss. He blushed pulling away and muttering under his breath, words meant only for you,

“I love you. My princess.”

[4k-cinematic-universe]

Flash Sideways

    Zach flicked the pan in his hand, the pork strips sizzling on it flipping over. He inspected them for a second and, determining them done, slid them off the pan and onto the plate next to the stove. They lined up nicely with the flattened bread and cut up boiled eggs.

    He turned off the flames and set the pan on another burner to let it cool off. Kris wasn’t home but he didn’t want another incident. There were still scorch marks on the ceiling and the burns left scars on her arms. Not exactly ones she likes to brag about unlike her others.

    Picking up the plate and the bottle of Tikena, he started up the rounded stairs of their home, leaning his elbow on the woven branch banister to keep himself steady. The steps creaked underneath his feet and he made a mental note to fix them later. Creaky stairs weren’t good for when any of them wanted to ‘sneak out’. Not like any of them did these days.

    At the top of the stairs, Zach walked to the first door of the short hallway. It was the only door without a mark on it, no etches or chipped paint from tape and nails. There was a sign next to the frame though; a light oak plank with Evans carved into it. He paused for a moment to stare. The letters were obviously chiseled with care, a single thick layer of black paint in the indentions to make them everlasting.

    He sighed and knocked lightly on the door with his knuckle, careful not to hit it with the bottle. “Cole? You awake?”

    No answer. Zach set the bottle on the floor so he could open the door just a crack, picked it up and nudged the door open some more. Inside, the room was near completely dark. Not a single one of the occupant’s many lamps were on and his curtains were drawn in halfway. The bookshelf and desk were neat and untouched, as well as the clean floor void of any papers, books, or tools.

    Zach felt a pang in his stomach and walked over to the desk to set his armful down. “I brought you some food. It’s your favorite, well it’s all of our favorite, but I made you it.”

    Again, no answer from the bed. A human sized lump of blankets was bunched together at the end of the mattress, thrown haphazardly away from Cole, who sat at the head. One leg was outstretched, the other drawn up so he could set his elbow on his knee. His hand dangled while the other was resting beside him, his communicator watch in a loose grip.

    What worried Zach most was his face. He stared at the end of the bed in front of him, eyes full of nothing and void. If it weren’t for him actually blinking, Zach and Kris would’ve guessed he was dead or a living coma.

    The older man shook his head. Kris said Cole was close, but not yet to a state of going into a living coma. Until he got to that point, they just had to help him best they could.

    “Kris went to town to pick up a shipment. It’ll definitely have those knives she’s been waiting for finally. Might also have that textbook from Utimia you requested ages ago.” He approached the bed slowly and sat on the edge next to his legs. “And Ms. Michaela has been asking about us, wondering when you’re going to come in again. We didn’t explain everything of course but we did tell her it’d be a while.”

    Cole responded as usual, a stare blank as a crossed out puzzle. Zach reached out and placed his hand on his knee. “We don’t blame you for any of this. None of us could’ve predicted what was going to happen, especially to Colour and Zoel.” He leaned forward, touching his forehand to the back of his hand before sitting back up and standing.

    “Take as long as you need, frate. We’re always here.”

[whitelightning9999]

Button Kids, Part 4

Previous

He could no longer feel the solidness of the other’s girls mind. Instead it felt like a popped balloon, the gas swirling all around him.

Music slowly drifted to him. Growing louder with each second.

Goggles opened his eyes to muted colors of a city. The music turning into a distorted 80’s sound track, skipping every so often.

The boy took a step back from the unfamiliar environment, feeling the edge of a cliff beneath his bare feet. Behind him stretched an endless chasm filled with black bubbling goo.

“F-Fire?” Goggles shouted. “Whisper?”

No answer.

“Coraline?” He whispered hopelessly.

The Other Mother’s laugh echoed from every direction.

We never saw them again. Fire’s words replaying in his head.

Without thinking he ran into the city, turning randomly to throw off the Beldam. He couldn’t let her catch up to him. He had been a bad boy. He had left the room. He had followed Coraline. He had learned about the sun.

Goggles slammed into the oddly plushie road face first, tears flying off his face. And the boy stayed like that, shaking, not bothering to get up.

“Hellow?” a voice said.

Goggles turned his head to face the darkened alley way. Two pairs of cartoon eyes stared back.

“Hellow?” the voice said again.

He pushed himself up, ready to bolt.

The eyes blinked. “Hellow?”

“He- Hello” Goggles answered, his eyes making out a giant yellow and black star. No, he shook his head. The star was covered in that black goo from the gorge.

The eyes blinked at him.

“Do- Do you know where I am?” Goggles tried, only to get blinks. “Do you know how I can get out? I want to get back to my…“

What are they? We’ve been living in the same room but… Goggles questioned.

The star stared at the boy before slowly speaking. “Mabel”

“Maple?” Goggles repeated.

The star blinked twice, before its color started to darken and it’s body stiffened.

The boy frowned picking himself up. Ahead stood a tower and with no better place the boy started toward it.

Coraline stood up, cracking her back. Next to her Wybie eyed her.

“You- you be careful okay.” Wybie said.

She smiled before punching his arm. “You too. Can’t have you getting caught now can we.”

Coraline squinted, was that blush on Wybie’s cheeks?

Wybie awkwardly laughed. “Yeah don’t want to be eaten by some fake mother. Ha ha.”

Coraline watched him as he walked up to the door. Then a thought struck her. “Wybie wait!”

He stopped.

“I need somethings, can you get them?”

Wybie nodded determinedly. “S-sure what do you need”

Coraline listed a group of items.

“Y-yeah should be pretty easy. I’ll bring them to you to-tonight.” Wybie said before slipping out the door.

She stood there, staring at the door, counting to a hundred, then left the room in the opposite direction.

It took her a while, but she finally made it back to the mirror without being spotted. With any luck, Wybie would be home asleep by now.

Pushing her hand against the liquid surface, she walked through into the chaos.

It took a few U-turns but finally Goggles made it to the white sand beach where the tower stood. He looked around nervously. The beach was devoid of any life or sheltered. It was nothing like the cramped space he had been in for the last number of years. Should he choose to cross the stretch of land he be an easy target.

Maybe too easy. He looked up at the darkening sky. What would Coraline do? He thought looking at the sole light coming from the tower.

Taking a deep breath, he ran.

The tower coming closer and closer to him, as he solely focused on running. He was halfway when the sand exploded, launching him into the air.

He landed on his back.

Groaning he watched a misshaped clay version of a giant boy with a hat emerged from the sand.

Goggles looked back. He was too far to run back to the city.

The giant boy yelled, blowing up sand into the wind. Forcing, Goggles to cover his buttons.

Be like Coraline. Be like Coraline. The boy thought to himself as he clamped his namesake over his buttons.

The monster rose his fist into the air before bringing it down onto the boy.

Goggles jumped out of the way, using the opening to hit the monster with his own giant hand.

The monster howled before swinging its arm. Goggles could only watch as the arm hit him dead in the chest, knocking him a few feet away.

The ground shook as it started to lumber towards the boy.

Goggles, slightly stunned, chose to run. In the background the Other Mother’s laugh rang out once again.

“Mabel?” Goggles skirted to a stop. Ahead of him stood the star.

“No, we have to run! There’s a mon-“ Goggles never got to finish. A hardened lump of clay fell from the sky, crushing the star. Splattering black goo onto the pavement.

Goggles just stood there, stray black drops sticking to his face.

The monster roared in aggravation.

Goggles whipped around. The star hadn’t been a part of this, yet it still paid the ultimate price.

With his own roar, Goggles unleashed a raw wave of psychic power.

Drained the boy looked up. His attack had blown up the sands. The few remaining trees lay uprooted. And the monster was now just a lump of clay. He looked back down with a small smile.

“Embrace your gift huh?” He said out loud remembering Fire.

He froze hearing the thick sound of liquid moving. Ahead of him the lumps of clay had begun to move together.

Goggles stumbled forward. I can’t fight that thing again.

A steadily as he could, the boy limped toward the tower. Ignoring the roars of the misshapen monster and the pounding of the ground as it came closer.

He had just closed the tower door behind him before he felt the monster throw his weight against the wood.

Goggles could only brace against the rotting wood as the monster slammed into it again and again. Praying that the door held up.

“Mabel!” The monster roared, finally giving up.

Goggles breathed in relief, taking in the room. Black goo hung everywhere, leaking from the ceiling and walls. Ahead of him was an elevator with a crooked out of order sign. A glowing light with the words ‘stairs’ pointed left.  

It took the boy a few tries to get his feet under him. On the way up he almost face planted several times. In the end, he had to rest at the top of the stairs, too exhausted to keep walking.

What am I doing? This Maple might not even be here.

“Hello?” the boy yelled out, listening to his voice bounce off the walls.

The laughter of the beldam started again, and the tower started to violently shake.

Tiny pieces of ceiling fell onto his face. Goggles groaned, peeking up at the red tinted ceiling.

With a yelp the boy threw himself out of the way just before a large boulder crushed his spot.

Slowly the tower stopped shaking but his attention was left solely on the boulder.

That could have killed me. He thought darkly.

That would have killed me. He started to chuckle, before full on laughing. He took no notice of the tears dripping down his face.

She leaned against the window, looking out through the dirty glass at the dead gray colored city. Had this been a movie it would be raining now.

She continued to pick at her sweater numbly, slowly looking through every window of every building in the lifeless city.

That’s all it ever was. That was all anything ever was. Numb and lifeless. No happy music. No happy people… No happy family.

All she would ever do was stare.

And deep inside her she knew it was all she was ever good for.

“Mabel” someone said behind her.

She blinked away from the city window. John used to live there with his wife. They had been expecting a baby. She got to feel the baby kick.

“Mabel” They spoke again. “Mabel”

“Go away” Her voice badly cracking from lack of use.

She was met with silence.

Robotically she turned her head. Her long hair falling into her face.

No one.

She turned back to the window, not bothering to push away her hair.

Cruel laughter echoed around the girl. Flinching, she curled up, her memories taking over.

She was at school. The teacher had stepped out and everyone was quietly drawing.

She looked down at her desk, crayons were scattered around a blank piece of paper. She didn’t feel like drawing.

She looked over at ‘him’. He was happily drawing something, humming quietly as he worked. His happiness, his warmth made her almost feel like smiling. Almost.

She sat there, watching ‘him’. Watching how happy he was.

He turned to speak to her before his paper was ripped away.

“Hey!” he screamed at another boy.

“Hey, everyone look what Stupid made”. The bully announced, waving the paper high.

She could see the paper clearly now. ‘He’ had drawn a werewolf dressed in a mailman outfit.

Around her, other students laughed at ‘him’.

“Don’t you know we’re supposed to draw something real, Stupid” The bully said.

“It is real!” ‘He’ replied.

The class laughed harder. Around them, she could make out taunts being thrown at ‘him’.

“It is” ‘He’ insisted. “Ma-Mabel believes in it too.”

The class grew silent. “Is that true?” The bully asked harshly.

In front of her, ‘he’ looked at her with hopeful eyes.

And she wanted to. She wanted to agree with ‘him’. But someone else spoke through her body. A cruel someone.

“Pfbtt, of course not” She said.

The class raged into laughter and taunts, but she paid no notice. No, all her attention was on ‘him’ and his heartbreaking expression.

She blinked.

She was back in the gray city. Back to the numbness.

Her hand picked at her sweater.

She hated it here. But she didn’t deserve to leave.

Mabel looked out the window again. Focusing on a new window. Bone’s lived in that room. He used to try to make her laugh, using his rib cage as a musical instrument.

A roaring caught her attention. The guardian? Mabel thought.

Stiffly she swung around, slowly walking toward the door.

She made it to the hall when the laughter came again, bringing another memory.

She chewed at her lip. She was in her house this time. ‘He’ was storming up the stairs with his school backpack.

She reached out to him. “Will you just talk to me!” her voice screamed.

He kept walking.

“As your older sister I command you to stop!”

‘He’ paused. “That’s just it, Mabel. You’re not my Sister.”

She watched as he disappeared upstairs. Tears running down her face.

Her memory-self moved. Stomping down the hall to their father’s study. Wasting no time throwing the door open. It didn’t matter anyways their parents were never home. It was always just her and her brother.

She sat down at the nearly-new desk and took out a sheet of paper. Carefully, she started to write.

It took her awhile, crossing out words and rewriting everything. Her eyes full of tears the entire time. When she was done she folded the letter in half, sliding out of the chair.

She was ready to leave forever.

But something caught her eye. In the corner, next to a small door, was a doll. A doll that looked like her.

Curiously, she pushed the doll away and opened the new door.

She was back in the hallway. Leaning against the wall. What had she been doing?

She should be back in her room. Back where she can’t hurt anyone.

Mabel started to turn back, but the sound of crying caught her attention.

Numbly she turned around heading toward the sound.

Mabel paused, ahead of her was a boy, younger than her possibly, in his pajamas, red goggles covering his eyes. He was curled up against the wall crying.

Something told her to comfort the boy, but she just stood there, staring like a horrible person.

It was only when the boy wiped his nose with his sleeve did she move.

“Here” Mabel said, holding out a tissue box she had summoned.

The boy flinched before looking at her. Shakily snatching a tissue.

They just stood like that, both of them not saying a thing.

“He- Hello” The boy finally started. Mabel knew he was looking at her buttons.

“Do- do you know where- where we are?”

“Sweater town”

The boy gave her a confused look. “Do- do you know where my friends are?”

Mabel blinked. “Friends?”

“Coraline and Whisper.” The boy said before mumbling, “At least I think they’re my friends.”

“There’s- there’s no one here- uhh”

“Goggles”

“Goggles?” She repeated.

He nodded. “It’s the only name I know.”

“Oh…” She noted that the boy seemed to be recovering.

“Do you know where I can find Maple?”

She blinked, how odd. “Mabel?”

He nodded.

“I’m Mabel” She pointed to herself.

“Mabel?” the boy oddly questioned. “Oh.”

A roar came from downstairs, startling Goggles.

Mabel tiredly walked toward the stairs. Ignoring the boy.

“Wait!” She heard the boy cry, but she continued.

Behind her she heard Goggles start down after her.

Then the laughter started.

She was in the middle of the ceremony. Choosing sparkly pink button eyes instead of that ugly black.

That’s when her brother came in with a bat.

After knocking her mother to the floor, he grabbed her hand. The thread still hanging from her unfinished eye, preventing her from seeing.

“Come on Mabel we have to leave.” He yelled.

She pulled back.

“Mabel, what are you doing come on!”

“I don’t want to leave!” She yelled back.

“What?” Her brother sounded heart broken.

“I don’t want to leave. I like it here.” She had smiled at him.

“Mabel what are you saying? You have to come home… you- you’re my sister”

“But I don’t know you” she had said that. She had said that to the best person in her life.

He looked like he was going to puke. “Mabel, sis, please, please come with me.”

“Ok” she said in response to his hopeless tone.

She awoke to Goggles holding her arm, keeping her from sliding down the stairs.

“A- Are you okay?” Goggles ask from above her.

She was too tired to respond.

Everything was so heavy, so she just sat there.

“Mabel?” Goggles asked.

“Go away”

She heard the boy shift on the step above her.

“Ma- Mabel… I- I’m here be- because…”

“I said go away.” Mabel said harshly.

He released her arm.

“I just want to be alone” she mumbled.

She was met with silence.

She had pushed Goggles away.

She had finally pushed the boy away.

And like always she was alone.

Just like she wanted.

“Cora-“

Mabel jumped.

“Coraline wouldn’t leave… she wouldn’t leave me… and- and I won’t leave you” Goggles voice came from the step above.

“Now- now let’s’ get out of here.” She heard him stand.

She turned, looking through the curtain of her hair.

Goggles had his hand outstretched to her.

“I’m… I’m a terrible person.” She started. She thought of her brother’s back walking up the stairs.

“I’ve- I’ve hurt people” She thought of how her brother looked at her when she broke his heart.

“I- I shouldn’t-“

“Leave?” Goggles finished. He sat down on the stair next to her. “I know how you feel.”

She stared into his goggles.

“We’re- we’re freaks. Freaks that- that no one wants. That’s why Mother took us in, right?”

Mabel curled into her sweater.

“But… but I don’t care. Be- because I have Coraline, and- and maybe Whisper. And Fire has been… well she’s getting better.”

She watched as he put her hand on her shoulder. “And may- maybe you too?”

He suddenly pulled back. “I- I mean if you want to I- I guess.”

It started slow, at first but before long, her tears became a waterfall. She latched onto the boy, trying to suck in enough breath as she wailed.

Throughout it all, Goggles just let it happen. Patting her back, keeping her grounded with his presents.

She eventually cried herself out, just staying there laying against his shoulder.

“Goggles?” She asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can- can you be my brother?”

He shifted and she felt her heart drop.

“Are- are you sure you want a freak like me as a brother?”

“… only if you’d have a monster for a sister”

Goggles started laughing. “It’s a deal then”

Mabel smiled, standing up. Then a thought entered her head.

“Goggles? You- you said you wanted to get out of, here right?”

She watched him nod.

“Mabel. Do you know how?”

She nodded.

“Then- then we can get back to Coraline and the others.” The boy brightened, running down the steps.

“So, what do we do Mabel?”

She opened her mouth to begin speaking, when a roar came outside the tower. Goggles flinched.

“That… we have to defeat…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Goggles hesitated, looking down the stairs.

“He’s- he’s trapping you in here, right?” Goggles asked.  

“Goggles”

He looked back at her, and through the red tinted goggles, she saw a tiny flickering flame burst to life. It almost looked like-

A large boom echoed up the staircase.

“MAYBALL” A distorted yell followed the bang.

The two kids just stared, watching the dust rise from the floor below. It was only when the giant misshaped hand of clay reached upward did Goggles start to run.

“Go!” He yelled grabbing her hand.

The monster yelled, pounding the staircase. Mabel fell down from the shock wave, catching herself on the step.

“Goggles!” She yelled, watching him tumble down the stairs.

The boy, using the momentum of the fall, jumped up. Slamming a giant orange hand onto the clay-version of her brother.

“Mabel! Run!” he yelled.

Then the laughter started, and she fell into her memories.

They had run to the garage after finding the door locked.

Her brother, determined to ‘fix’ her had said they needed to remove her button.

“It’s not even fully in, we just have to take it off.” He said, slightly stuttering.

She had let him. She had let him crack her button. And that’s when the memories came back. She remembered the bully, the fight, the letter, everything from the past week.

When she came she was kneeling in a pool of blood.

“Leave her alone!” Her brother was yelling, standing over her protectively.

“Brother?” She whispered. She had wanted to say his name, but that was still missing.

He flinched, all of his attention on the spider-like women in front of them.

“I mean it!” Her brother cried.

“Oh, but I can’t.” The women said. “Don’t you see your sister already belongs to me.”

He fell silent before speaking. “Take me then.”

“What?”

“Take me instead of Mabel!” He cried.

The spider woman accepted and weakly she watched as the woman sewed buttons into her brother’s eyes. She watched as he flinched every time the woman touched him. She watched as he started to cry.

When it was done the woman turned to her. “Now dear let’s finish you up.”

Numbly, she let the woman go back on her word.

Numbly, she let the woman lead them through the house.

Numbly, she heard the woman says that she was their mother and they were her children.

It was only when they had entered the room did she break out of it.

She had turned to yell at her brother. Telling him that everything was his fault. How she hated him. Because blaming him was better than admitting that this was her fault.

She had told him to go away.

She had run away after that. Taking a one-way trip to sweater town. And never coming out.

Hope you enjoyed and don’t forget to leave a like!

Next

[transbuck]

The Fallout (2/?)

Summary: The Fake AH Crew are at the height of their career, lead by notorious crime boss Geoff Ramsey of the legendary Roosters, and they’re about to pull off the heist of the century, the Strauss Museum heist. Everything is going exactly as planned until an explosion goes off too soon, just in time to kill Geoff. The Fakes are thrown, and the joy of the heist is cut short. The Fakes retreat to a safe house in the hills to deal with the fallout of the Kingpin’s death. But can the Fakes keep it together without their leader?

AO3

The sun was sinking below the horizon as three cars raced toward the Strauss museum, a motorcycle following behind. The cars split, two sliding into a parking lot rear the Strauss museum with the motorcycle, the other jamming itself into the alley beside the Maze Bank across the street. Ryan slid off the bike, meeting up with Jeremy, Michael, and Gavin. They all wore tuxes, hair combed neat, or as neat as they could make it in Michael’s case, with bow ties hiding mics. Gavin grabbed a backpack from Michael’s car and they snuck around the back of the museum, Gavin bouncing in excitement, holding a grappling hook.

“Team Lads plus Vagabond is in position.” Jeremy said, nodding at Gavin, who fired the grappling hook at the roof. He swung from it to make sure it held.

“Okay, Team OG in position. Scaling the bank now.” Geoff’s voice came over the comms, and they began to climb. Jeremy and Ryan split off, slipping through a small window on the second floor into a bathroom, as Michael and Gavin continued to the roof. They set up by the vent, Michael watching over Gavin’s shoulder as he pulled his laptop out and finished the hack into the security system.

“First system hacked.” He pulled another laptop out of the backpack and started another hack.

“You have to have different laptops for this?” Michael asked. Gavin nodded in reply. “Why?”

“Michael, I gotta focus Michael.” Michael rolled his eyes and turned so his back was leaning against Gavin’s. Michael watched as the sun finally disappeared below the distant horizon, glinting off a few buildings as it slipped into the sea. The city lit up as lights flicked on in buildings and streetlights flickered on. Michael smiled slightly as he looked over their city.

“Gavin my boi. We own this town.” Gavin typed out a few last commands before closing the laptop and turning around, hugging Michael.

“Sure do, boi.” He grabbed his backpack and slid the laptops away, keeping his phone out, where the security feeds were broadcast to. “Both systems hacked. Team Nice Dynamite ready to enter.”

“Battle Buddies are ready to enter as well. Please. This bathroom smells terrible.”

“Alright, Team OG is in position. Go ahead.” Michael and Gavin slid down into the air vent, Gavin leading them from the blueprints on his phone until they reached a broom closet. Gavin jumped down out of the air vent and froze until Michael jumped on top of him.

“Hey idiot, why didn’t you move!” Michael smacked Gavin lightly before looking up, directly into the face of a startled security guard, who started reaching for a red button. Michael snapped to, grabbing the guard’s arm, twisting it up behind his back. Michael kneed him, just below his twisted arm, slamming him into the wall. He grabbed the guard’s head and slammed it into the wall before letting him slump to the floor, unconscious. “What the fuck?” Michael turned to Gavin.

“The blueprints said this was a broom closet Michael! I don’t know!” Gavin held his hands up in defense. Michael shook his head.

“Whatever doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here.” Michael grabbed Gavin’s hand and led him out into the hallway. “Battle Buddies, you guys make it to the gala?”

“Uh, not yet. We’re lost. Vagabond here doesn’t know how to read a blueprint.”

“Yes, I do, I followed it. The blueprint is wrong! Why don’t you try to read it? Oh wait, Rimmy couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag!”

“I was drunk! And it wasn’t a paper bag, it was a giant plastic tarp you wrapped me in!”

“Guys. The blueprint’s wrong, Gavin fucked up.” Michael dragged Gavin behind him, trying to find the stairwell.

“Michael!” Gavin squawked at him.

“Shut up, this is your fault. Should’ve checked your sources.”

“We found the stairwell. Meet you downstairs in a bit.”

-

The Battle Buddies slipped seamlessly into the party, Ryan sliding his arm over Jeremy’s shoulders, handing him a glass of champagne.

“Let’s find these paintings. If Gavin’s intel about the layout of this museum was wrong, the paintings are probably somewhere else as well.” Jeremy nodded, leaning into Ryan’s side.

“They’re supposed to be in the next room, because this is the one with the window facing Maze.” Jeremy slid his arm around Ryan’s waist, and they strolled casually through the crowd, all smiles and warm greetings to anyone who talked to them. Once in the next room, they both breathed a small sigh of relief to see the three paintings hanging exactly where they were supposed to. A small crowd milled around them, gazing in awe.

The paintings were recently recovered, as they had originally gone missing during World War II during Nazi raids. They had fortunately escaped destruction, only because the Nazis managed to misplace them. Or so the story goes. The history of the three paintings is mysterious and clouded in controversy, and some claim that they carry a curse. Utter nonsense of course, but the controversy and rarity of the art drove the value through the roof, meaning they were now worth about three hundred million dollars each.

Jeremy stood in awe, eyes full of stars, in front of the paintings. Ryan looked down at him, smiling. “Maybe we don’t sell all of them. Maybe we keep one.”

Jeremy snapped his head to look at Ryan. “We can’t. They’re worth more as a set.” Ryan could see the sadness in his eyes. Jeremy wanted them.

“Ehhh, whatever. We pull off the heist, we get the fame, who needs that much money anyway.” Ryan waved his hand.

“No, we gotta sell them all. I can’t screw the team like that.” Jeremy looked back at the paintings. “Besides, they’re cursed.” Jeremy wiggled his fingers at Ryan, laughing. Ryan grinned and led Jeremy away, keeping him close.

“Let’s go find the back room.” Ryan whispered to Jeremy, who nodded, and they slipped out of the room, just as Gavin and Michael finally made it down the stairs. They strolled into the crowd, Gavin easily plastering on a smile, schmoozing his way through the crowd, laughing and blending effortlessly. Michael shuffled along behind him dutifully, doing his best to look somewhat friendly.

“Team Nice Dynamite in place.”

“Battle Buddies in place.”

“Alpha One in place.”

“Alpha Two ready. Blow it.”

The twelfth floor of the Maze Bank exploded, fire blazing out of the windows.

“Oh my god! The bank’s exploded!” Gavin pointed out the window, his voice spurring the crowd to run to the wall-sized window facing the bank. The guards followed suit, abandoning posts as they rushed to the window, already calling 911. Michael hovered around the back, ready to turn any stragglers to the window. Gavin was at the front, doing what he did best – freaking out. Michael glanced over his shoulder to see the Battle Buddies carrying three boxes out of the stairs and into the adjacent room.

The Battle Buddies placed the boxes on the ground, moving swiftly to swap the false paintings from the boxes with the real ones on the wall. Jeremy stepped back to admire his handiwork as Ryan secured the paintings in the boxes. The paintings were similar enough that it would take time to arouse suspicion, but upon closer inspection would reveal differences pointing to the Fake AH Crew, including Rimmy Tim’s signature in the corner. Ryan placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, smiling at him.

Gavin glanced back at Michael, giving him a wide smile. Michael grinned back, watching the flames lick at the bank as sirens roared in the distance.

“I’ve lost Geoff.” Gavin’s smiled dropped instantly, as did Michaels. “His comm went dark when the bomb went off.” Michael whirled around to see the Battle Buddies, frozen halfway out the door, eyes wide. He waved at them, mouthing GO, GO. They snapped to, hurrying down the stairs. Michael turned back to Gavin, who was staring at the fire, his fear real now.

“I’m on the way. Gavin, go with Ryan to the airport.” Michael sprinted out the door, leaving Gavin behind. He sprinted across the street, behind the building next to the bank to avoid the prying eyes across the street. He turned and ran into the bank, running up the stairs, fighting through the smoke. “Jack, where are you?” Code names had gone out the window.

“I’m running down the stairs. Elevator’s shut down because of the fire.” Michael rounded the final flight of stairs, stopping short of the door to the twelfth floor. He could hear Jack a few floors above him. He pulled his undershirt over his mouth, taking a deep breath, before kicking the door in. There was nothing but flame in front of him. If Geoff was in there…

Jack ran up beside him, stopping just shy of running directly into the fire. He held a fire extinguisher. Before Michael could stop him, Jack ran in, spraying the fire extinguisher at the growing flames. Michael stared helplessly through the door, the flames slightly less. A few seconds later, Jack burst out of the flames, dragging a charred body, silver army ID tags around its neck. Michael’s heart fell. Jack dropped the body in front of Michael, who bent down and examined the dog tags.

RAMSEY

GEOFF L.

735-16-7238

O NEG

NO PREFERENCE

Michael sat down, face blank. He shook his head when Jack looked at him. Jack carefully lifted the ID tags off Geoff’s body before holding his hand out to Michael.

“Come on. The police will be here soon.” Michael took his hand, letting Jack pull him to his feet, and he followed him out of the bank.

-

“Gavin, let go of me and go with Ryan!” Jeremy shook Gavin off, who was clinging to his arm.

“But Jeremy, we can’t go! We have to find out if Geoff is okay!” Ryan took Gavin’s hand, pulling Gavin to him.

“He’ll be the same amount of okay if we’re here or at the airport. We, however, will be less okay if we stay here.” Gavin hung his head and followed Ryan to his bike, climbing on behind him.

“I’ll see you guys at the safe house. I’m turning off my comms to meet with the buyer.” Jeremy placed the boxes in the trunk of his car, waving to the other two as they sped off into the night. He slammed the trunk closed and slid into the driver’s seat of his car, leaning his head against the bright orange steering wheel, tears blurring his vision. He clenched his fists, biting his lip, holding back a scream. He tasted blood. He furiously wiped his eyes, starting the car. The radio blared at him and Jeremy punched it. The drive into the mountains was silent, save for the faint sirens Jeremy left behind.

He parked the car next to the black sports car on the mountain side. The cliff was dangerously close. Jeremy eyed it. He slid his sunglasses down, masking his red eyes. He stalked over to the other car, banging on the window. A tall man slipped out. Jeremy scoffed at his suit, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You got the paintings?” Jeremy nodded, leading the man to his trunk. The man opened the trunk, nodded at them, turned around and pushed a gun into Jeremy’s chest. “Thanks kid.”

Jeremy’s eyes flashed behind his glasses, grabbing the man’s wrist and spinning around, the gun balanced over his shoulder, facing the cliff. Jeremy flipped the man over, slamming him onto his back, before kicking him. The man tried to get up, turn his gun on Jeremy, but found his face broken, bruised, and bloody as Jeremy slammed his fist down. Jeremy grabbed him, dragging him over to the cliff. He threw the man down, his head hanging over the precipice. Jeremy pressed his knee into his chest, leaning down so his face was inches from the other man’s.

“You picked a bad day to kill me.” Jeremy pulled his gun from his waistband, holding it to the man’s forehead, his face stone. “Where’s the money?” The man’s eyes were wide as he struggled against Jeremy’s weight.

“There’s some in the trunk. It’s locked.” Jeremy dug his knee in deeper.

“The key.” The man pulled a key ring out of his pocket and threw it on the ground away from them. Jeremy grinned.

“Thanks.” He pulled the man halfway off the ground. “Not enough to save you though.” Jeremy said before shoving him over the edge of the cliff. He stood up, grabbing the keys and striding over to the sports car, unlocking the trunk. He opened the briefcase, glancing over the money. It didn’t look like quite enough, but it didn’t matter now. He had the paintings and the money. He flicked his comm on.

“Any news guys?” His voice wavered.

“He’s dead. Jeremy, he-“ Jeremy flipped his comm back off. He tossed the briefcase in his passenger seat. He sat on the hood of his car, facing the cliff, looking over the city. He ripped his comm out of his ear, throwing it over the edge. He didn’t move until sunrise.

As the sun rose, he slipped back into his car, driving back down the mountain. He drove through Los Santos, glancing briefly at the ruined floor of the Maze Bank. He kept driving, straight out of Los Santos, away from the safe house. Away from all he’d known for the last five years.

[sbstokes]

My Real Life Ghost Story

I was living with my girlfriend Karyn and her Mom in a 1930s stucco in Martinez, California. It was going to be Karyn's and my first night home alone together in over three months, and we were understandably excited. Our school and work schedules and the nature of living with her mother had prevented us from having too many intimate nights at home alone. Karyn's Mom had taken off for an entire week to help Karyn's sister Debbie settle into her new Humboldt State dorm room. And Karyn's other sister, Wendy, had moved out of the house's converted basement less than a week previously. The whole house was finally ours! After work, we went to the store and bought everything we'd need to cook an amazing dinner. Then we picked up a nice bottle of wine and some decadent ice cream, before heading to the nearby video store to rent "Willy Wonka", our favorite movie. When we got back to the house, we put on some music and turned it up as loud as we wanted. We went through the swinging restaurant door between the living room and the kitchen and got to work. We ate and drank and talked together at the small kitchen table. Dreamed about our future together, when we'd have a house of our own, all to ourselves, all the time. After dinner was finished and we had washed the dishes, we scooped up the ice cream, heading back through the swinging door to put on the movie and enjoy our quiet evening alone together on the old leather couch. As I went to sit down, my girlfriend, who was already curled up with her bowl of ice cream sheepishly asked, "Honey? Would you bring me a glass of water?" I smiled, put my bowl of ice cream down on the coffee table, and happily pushed back through the swinging door. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I stopped dead. Every single cabinet, drawer and door was open, but only halfway. I hadn't been out of the kitchen for more than thirty seconds--nowhere near enough time for a person to open EVERY one of the eight to ten drawers and five or six cabinets. Even the oven doors and the refrigerator were open and both taps in the sink were running. The door to the laundry room and the door to the adjoining bedroom, which I had closed while we were cooking dinner, were now both halfway open as well. Every hair on my body stood up as I backed up and pushed open the swinging door, calling Karyn to join me in the kitchen. I didn't want to leave the room, for fear that when we came back everything would be closed again and the water turned off. Karyn paused the movie previews with a playfully annoyed, "Ho-o-o-oney!", then hopped up and jogged over to the doorway. "What the hell is THIS??" I asked, with more than a little fear in my voice. "Oh, shit..." she whispered. She stood for a moment in the doorway, a blank look on her face. "Must have been the cat," she blurted, then turned quickly to go back into the living room. "Wait a minute," I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward me. "Seriously, Karyn, what IS this?" I put my arm around her waist and looked into her eyes. "This didn't just happen by itself. And there is no way the cat did this." Her shoulders fell and her face crumpled as she began crying uncontrollably. I pulled her to me and kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair. As she buried her face in my chest, she cried, "He just won't... He just... won't... leave me alone." There was a loud crash downstairs before I could ask who or what she was talking about. She lifted her head and we looked into each other's faces, fear matching fear. I turned off the faucets and we closed the refrigerator and oven doors in silence before heading through the laundry room to the door to the basement and the converted garage/workshop. We flipped the switch to the one bare bulb over the basement stairs and unlocked and opened the door, listening intently for any sign of human or animal. "HELLO?!" I shouted down the painted wooden stairs. "Who's down there?" Nothing. No response. No sound. Karyn squeezed my arm with both hands, her nails digging into my skin as we took our first tentative steps

down the stairs. Still no sound. The old wood of the stairs moaned and creaked with each step, making Karyn squeeze my arm even harder. We reached the bottom of the stairs and the bay of light switches, which would illuminate the entire garage and basement bedroom and bathroom areas, quickly flipping every switch. Light flooded the downstairs, which was always colder than the upstairs, despite finished and insulated walls and double-pane windows throughout. The contents of only the middle section of the topmost shelf over the washer and dryer had been knocked onto the cement floor. Several glass Mason jars filled with screws and washers and other odds and ends lay reduced to shards in the middle of the garage. Nothing on any of the other shelves was moved or touched, not even the layer of dust covering them. Nothing on either side of this one center section of the top shelf was disturbed. None of the broken glass or small hardware pieces were on the horizontal tops of either the washer or dryer, which sat directly beneath the shelves. Just in the middle of the floor, as if thrown from the near-ceiling-height top shelf. For the second time that night, I was covered in chills and every hair was standing on end. We decided that we'd leave the mess where it was on the garage floor and come down and deal with it in the morning when the basement wasn't quite so creepy and dark. Then we quickly made the rounds of each room in the basement. All the doors and windows were closed and locked, every closet and cupboard and cabinet was as it should be: closed tight with nothing and no one inside. We checked every small drawer and cubbyhole too, just in case a mouse or a rat or some other small animal had somehow gotten trapped. Nothing. We did all this as quickly as we could, feeling horribly nervous and completely freaked out. We flipped all the switches, once again bathing the downstairs in pitch darkness, and ran back up to the kitchen. Thankfully, all the drawers, and all the cupboards, and the refrigerator and oven, and the two spigots were still closed and off. We were shaken, but were also finally beginning to calm down and feel ever-so-slightly better. We held hands and smiled nervously at each other. As we came through the swinging door from the kitchen back into the living room, the master bedroom door slammed so hard that the floor shook and a picture fell from the living room wall, glass shattering on the floor and the frame breaking into pieces. "Let's get the fuck out of here," I said to Karyn. She stood next to me, weeping silently, her whole body shaking, her eyes nearly closed. "Honey? Karyn? Cummon, we're going right now," I said taking her hand again and pulling her toward the front door. We stepped over the broken picture frame and pieces of glass. "I need a fucking cigarette..." she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she stood woodenly on the front porch. I locked the door and we headed down the front stairs toward my car, and then toward the nearest, cheapest motel.