#first name is shorter but I doubled up on middle names so my chosen name ends up being longer overall

[male-reader-requests]

Unknown

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,351

Warnings: This is a little short story so not a one-shot. This talks about Serial Killer stuff, specifically the Zodiac Killer. So uh, blood and gore. Be careful. I am also in the middle of getting together an actual update so don't worry!

-

I would not know them.

They would be chosen at random, by pure coincidence.

The game, the most dangerous game would be my game. The most dangerous game, the most dangerous prey, the most dangerous predator, they would become my prey. 

I do not know my target, so they will not know me. I will go at night, not caring for the dangers of being caught, for I would not be linked to them. I would not care for my appearance, for I do not need to impress them. 

I would find a couple, maybe they are together for a passionate night, or perhaps I've caught them just as they decide to split ends, but it will not matter, for no one will ever know. They would be alone, at a beach or on a lover's lane, but I would make sure it was clean, that there were no witnesses and no survivers. This will be my design.

I will shine a light, maybe my headlights or perhaps just a floodlight, at them so they are unable to see me. The light, if a floodlight, will be tapped to my gun. I will have a silencer, to make my act a bit more privet from prying ears.

 Whoever is in the passenger seat, whether a man or woman, will be shot once in the neck, and the driver I will shoot twice in the head. If the passenger lives I will shoot them again, perhaps in the chest, maybe in the stomach, I do not care is they survive anymore. 

I will shoot the driver again in the chest and again perhaps in the stomach, then I will shoot the passenger as many times and as recklessly as I want, for I do not care. In the end, I will unload an entire magazine into two people, and I will leave, leaving the two of them to rot unnoticed until morning. If either survives then that is their problem. 

In the morning, at around 6 AM, I will call the police, reporting a double homicide. If one of them survives then that will just be a blip in the system, a single count of homicide and a single count of an attempt at homicide. 

I will tell them I did it, but I will call them from a burner phone. I will proceed to crush said phone and throw it into a river, never to be seen again. 

I will be familiar in all the wrong ways, and I will be an ever-recurring nightmare.

I will become the Zodiac Killer of the 21st century.

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

Marissa sighed, looking at the mass of paperwork before her. Being a detective in California was surprisingly boring, especially when all you ever see is a one on one gunfight between rivals. Currently, the last thing she'd done that seemed even slightly interesting was her divorce, and that had been four years ago.

Light hair fell onto the desk before her, her head following. It was slow for some reason, there was nothing for her to do. Well, that was a lie. She could answer the phone ringing on her desk, she could fill out the paperwork before her, and she could go actually eat something, but here she was, debating.

She was drifting in and out of sleep, dozing as her partner August would say, but it was a warm afternoon, who could blame her?

A sharp crack came across her back, the pale woman yelping as her partner snapped her suspenders. August chuckled at her, obnoxiously slurping at cheap coffee in hand. Marissa glared at him, but it was halfhearted, holding no true anger.

"What was that for?" she asked, but she was eyeing the coffee in his hands, not really listening. She didn't really care, the snapping of her suspenders had become a greeting of August's ever since they were paired up, so she's grown used to it.

August just hummed, putting the coffee mug down on the cluttered desk, having to push a few papers so make room. The two of them hardly cared for germs, so when Marissa cupped the mug to herself he hardly batted an eyelash.

"We've got an assignment," August mumbled, his voice shadowed by drowsiness and a slight speech impediment. Marissa didn't move, truthfully she wished that August hadn't said anything. 

August, bless his heart, normally dealt with all the paperwork. This meant that they were almost completely ready to head out to wherever they were needed, and as much as Marissa just wanted to sleep she knew that this was probably important.

They would have to talk to the head of their department, an older man named Louis Ridgway before they could go, and Marissa truly wished they didn't have to. Ridgway wasn't a bad person, but he liked to make things seem far more interesting then they are. 

Marissa struggled with her jacket as the two of them made their way to his office, dodging interns, other detectives, and officers. Their department was always busy, considering so many people died in California, but it seemed there were even more people here now than there ever were.

August, used to Marissa's struggles, helped his shorter partner into her jacket, then opened the door for her as they entered Ridgway's office. Ridgway, all bushy eyebrows and droopy mustache, waved them over. 

He ignored the normal "sit down and listen as I tell you about the case" and made the two of them stand behind him as he pulled up a few things on his computer. Marissa, ever the nosey person, saw a few crime scene photos, the kind you'd expect to see with the yellow number cards and a bit of blood on the ground.  

The thing that really got her attention though was the other set of photos, ones that looked like carbon copies except that they had been taken with an older camera, the photos themselves obviously being older if the dates on the bottoms of them were right. 

Ridgway turned his monitor off, cutting Marissa's view. "There's been a murder," Ridgway said gruffly, ignoring how lame that sounded. There were tons of murders in California every day, even more, if you count car crashes and accidents.

"I want the two of you to check it out, see if it matches." Marissa blinked a few times, confused and tired, but August nodded, grabbing the pale woman by the shoulder and steering her through the crowded office area. 

Actually back to herself, Marissa looked at August in confusion, but the taller man just got into the driver's seat of the car, motioning for her to also get in. Rolling her eyes she complied, not that she really wanted to, buckling herself in.

She didn't know where they were going, who was murder, how many had been murdered, but she blamed that on her pension for spacing out. August probably knew. .....probably.

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

It was a 2-hour drive. It was a 2-hour drive for only 38 miles, San Francisco to Benicia, and Marissa slept the entire time. She knew she wasn't looking her best, but that never really mattered to her. 

Sleep rumbled hair and bags under her eyes the short woman got out of the car, accepting the lukewarm coffee August handed her with silent gratitude. The two of them got a few odd looks from local police, but that was more of their own fault, being in a completely different county tended to do that. Police were oddly territorial.  

One young man though, obviously just out of training from how much younger he was than the other officers, offered to bring them to the scene. He was all polite and charming, and Marissa was thankful, she and August had to deal with enough rude officers back at the department. 

The younger officer brought them through the yellow tape and through the mass of officers mostly loitering. The first thing Marissa got to see was a shit box car, obviously older than average and painted in a fading teal that patched out to show a bit of rust. She then noticed the blood. 

There was blood smeared on the passenger door, backseat door on the passenger side, and in the window of the passenger door. There was a pool, or what was probably a pool at one point, of dried blood on the gravel at the backseat door, but Marissa couldn't look further for her view was blocked by a stocky man.   

The man himself she didn't recognize, once she'd actually looked up, but she could tell by the way he held himself that he was the head honcho here, and that he wasn't very happy with the two of them being there. 

He was tall, taller than Marissa but then again almost everyone was. He was older than the two of them, his face was saggy in a way you only get from heavy drinking and it was twisted in a sarcastic sneer.

"Well, what do we have here?" His voice, like his face, had a strangely saggy aspect to it, and Marissa hated it immediately. As rude as it was she wished she could zone out now, but August had put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her focus.

"Detectives Shultcher and Lynn, we're from San Francisco." August and Marissa pulled their badges out from their pockets, Marissa ending up holding hers upside down. 

The saggy faced man seemed to sneer a bit less, but it never left completely. He smiled down at Marissa, then moved to look up at August. His smile was fake, holding no joy or happiness, only restrained rudeness. 

He stepped back, letting the two of them through, but you could see the hesitation in his motions, the way he didn't want them there. Police were oddly territorial.

At the actual scene itself, there was a woman and a young man, both of them must have been part of the forensics force. The two of them were collecting samples from the blood, off the car and off the gravel. They had a chest next to them, full of little sample bags. 

Marissa hated dealing with Forensics specialists. It may just be a bit of prejudice, but every single Forensics team she's dealt with in San Francisco were rude beyond beliefe and treated her and August like they were stupid, like they hadn't gone through any training.  

The two of them hardly even noticed August and her, quietly talking to themselves as they worked. The guy apparently said something funny, making the woman laugh lightly. They left the two of them alone. 

Splitting up August went to talk to the first responding police officers, leaving Marissa to survey the scene. This is how they always did it, this is why the two of them worked so well together. August always talked to suspects and officers, leaving the scene to Marissa. 

Marissa walked a perimeter, looking around at different angles, knowing that anything could help. As she looked around something started to bother her, this scene, this crime itself, was oddly familiar, oddly something she felt she should know. 

With furrowed eyebrows and confusion Marissa continued to look around, but as she got closer to the Forensics team she started to see all the things that looked familiar, making her even more confused. 

On the other side of the car, Marrisa saw that the driver's windowsill was covered in blood, so was the seat and steering wheel.  It was odd how familiar all of this seemed, but there wasn't much she could do until the Forensics told her about what they'd found.

Walking back over to August she zoned out, trying to place why all of this was so God damned familiar, but she was getting nowhere, only getting frustrated in herself. She drank the coffee that August had given her early, she zoned in and out of August questioning, and she debated on falling asleep as she stood there, but as per usual when she wanted to sleep she wasn't able too.

August, finally finishing up, guided the two of them over to the Forensics team, who were started to clean up. The guy noticed first that they were coming over, lightly pushing the girl in the shoulder.

The guy was all smiles, skinny with a pair of wireframe glasses. The woman was also skinny, but very tall, looking like a beanpole. The two of them told them about what they'd found, what they thought may have happened, and about the two victims.

Victim one was a young woman named Stacy Lamburdas. She lived not that far away, she was married, worked at a little restaurant, and had been the driver. She had been shot 4 times and did not survive.

Victim two was a young man named Darcy Monroe. He was one of the many people that Stacy had been having affairs with. He also lived not far away, working as a deliveryman for the post office. He had been shot 8 times. Miraculously he survived. 

Marissa was furiously scribbling into a notepad she had, taking down all the details she thought was important.

"It's funny isn't it?" the guy said, pushing his glasses up. Marissa raised an eyebrow in question, but she didn't look up.

"It's the 51st anniversary, and it's a complete carbon copy." Marissa now looked up, more confused, the woman seemed to notice.

"It's the 51st anniversary of the first killings of the Zodiac Killer, and this scene is very similar," Marissa stalled, his vision tunneling. The two Forensics kept talking, August keeping the conversation going, but Marissa wasn't paying attention.

This is why it was so familiar, why this all looked like something she knew.

The 51st anniversary huh?

Lord help them if this was a copy cat.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 12

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: bucky gets sad? that’s always a warning

A/N: i finally finished my coursework, wild thought, and now i have exams (*crying on the inside*). however, i got myself the time to write this for you and i promise the next chapter is gonna be someeeething which i’m already apologising for in advance. feedback is always appreaciated, enjoy xx

Next Chapter >>

(gif not mine, credits to the creator)

     - You look very beautiful, Y/N. - James was relishing in how she looked as she grabbed the sandwiches from the bodega seller, a man named Sal. She had her hair pushed back but her hair’s texture made sure it kept falling away from her hair tie. She was wearing an oversized, perfectly white t-shirt tucked into her denim jeans and a pair of black shoes that were stained with what he guessed was paint from the kindergarten. She rolled her eyes at him, wrapping her hand against his wrist to walk out of the store. - What are you rolling your eyes at? It’s true. 

    - Really? - she untucked her shirt from her jeans, showing him the perfectly shaped yellow hand shapes on the right bottom. He inhaled in a laugh, hand settling on her waist as he pushed her towards his chest. - One time it was on my bum, destroyed a good pair of jeans and every single person I encountered on the way home had an opinion about it. 

    - Well, can you really blame the kids when you look like that? - he eyed her up from head to toe, almost as if turning on her blushing switch. Nevertheless, she had decided she wanted to go home and change away from her toddler handprint T-shirt. The sun was still up and shining and he could see how her hair and skin glistened in the sunlight, it made him want to never leave her side but he knew he only had until the next sun rose. She took off to her room so she could change, leaving him in her living room. James found himself looking at her book collection once more enjoying how her taste was all over the place, from her parents’ mythology books, classical books to some cliché over the top romances. He was so interested in what she enjoyed to read, he didn’t even notice her walking back into her living room, only turning to face her once she lightly tapped him on his shoulder.

Y/N would always be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, there was nothing she could do, no matter how long she aged, there was nothing and no one that could convince the God of the Underworld, someone who knew beauty and love itself, that Y/N wasn’t the most beautiful thing ever created. However, he was not expecting to see what he saw once he faced her. She had her hair half up and half down and was sporting a white satin like dress that hit the middle of her thigh. James did not know what to say or what to react, maybe if he were a mortal again he could have found the sweetest of lines to tell her and swoop her off her feet, however, right now, all he could do was stare at her as if she were a modern Greek statue brought to life in full colour. 

Her chest rose with pride as she left him speechless, if only the young woman knew who she had gotten speechless, she probably would burst into a serious blush. James slowly raised his hand, resting it on top of her hip, and slowly pulled her towards him, the immediate flower notes of her perfume invading his senses. He leaned towards her, kissing the corner of her mouth which made her disguise the disappointment. Nevertheless, she gave him her traditional soft smile, her hand coming to intertwine against his free one, her fingers lightly tracing the metal ridges of his fingers.

    - We should probably go. - he threw himself off his daze where everything was about Y/N and Y/N only. He only had a few hours with her and he’d be damned if he couldn’t spend quality time with her. - You look very beautiful, Y/N.

   - Where are we going? - she had to walk away from him for a bit, grabbing her purse, phone and keys, swinging it over her shoulder. Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, walking with her down her street. The sun was close to setting, the golden hour enhancing just how stunning he was. Y/N still wondered why he had chosen to be with her when she was sure he could go into a catwalk and take any model he wanted. - You still haven’t told me where you’re going?

    - You’ll see. - he smirked at her as they entered a small restaurant. Y/N took a look to the walls seeing a variety of black and white pictures of a period she guessed belonged to the 30′s and 40′s. James took forward to the balcony, asking the cashier for something Y/N really didn’t listen to as she was too busy looking at the pictures. One of the pictures specifically called for her attention. She had to take a double look because she was 100% sure it was James, it was her Bucky in that picture sat next to a blonde buffer guy and a petite woman with victory curls and a very polished uniform. His hair was significantly shorter with an army cap hanging from it as he held a glass containing a liquid that due to the nature of the photo she couldn’t guess what it was. 

As she was about to ask him if he had an unknown twin or family member who looked exactly like him, he grabbed her by the hand, a brown paper bag on his other hand, as he mostly pulled her out of the shop. She definitely was either going insane or he had to be way older than he said he was which was impossible considering he looked to be in his mid 30s and if the picture was taken in the 40′s, he would have to be over a 100 so Y/N stuck with the first theory. 

He didn’t say much, walking with a purpose towards an abandoned building which made her furrow her eyebrows. Her parents had always told her never to let someone take her to a second location but here they were in a building that looked to have been locked for ages with wooden boards covering most of the windows that weren’t completely broken or vandalised. Bucky took her by the hand around the back onto a very worn out fire escape ladder. She gave him a concerned look wondering if he would rather flirt with death than her but James was rather confident and so far hadn’t given her an excuse to not trust him. With her heels clicking against the rusty reddish metal of the stairs which led to the rooftop of the building. She quickly understood why they were there, it had a stunning view. She could see the top of the city and the sun slowly setting just from the first look at the horizon.

   - C’mon, before the food gets cold. - he waved the bag in front of her face, dusting a corner of the floor with his hand before settling his jacket on the floor so she wouldn’t mess her dress. He kicked himself mentally for not having brought a blanket. Y/N took a seat near him, cuddling against his side as he unpacked a few black containers, handling her his. - It used to be my favourite pasta, let’s see how good your taste is. 

   - Well, it better be good pasta. - she settled the black take away container on top of her lap, cutlery on one of her hands as she prayed it wouldn’t fall on her pristine white dress. She opened the lid to see a nice pasta in a red sauce. As the meal hit her tongue she realised why Bucky liked it so much, it was the most delicious sauce she’d ever taste. - Oh my god, how come I never heard of this place?

   - It’s an hidden gem. I used to go there with my pal when I was younger, the owner knew us and would give us the day’s left overs. We once had so much garlic bread, we had a tummy ache for a full week. 

   - I didn’t know you had friends in Brooklyn.

   - Not anymore. - he sighed, the slightest tinge of sadness creeping in as he looked onto the horizon. Everyone that had once been in his life was lost and gone, lives fulfilled with kids running around the world. 

   - I’m sorry. - she nuzzled her head against the space between his shoulder and neck, placing a kiss on the exposed side of his neck. - I didn’t mean to upset you.

   - You could never upset me. - he kissed the top of her head.

   - I’m unsure of that. - she smiled at him, her goofy nature shining through.

   - I’m sure. I adore you. 

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​  @keithseabrook27 @inlovewith319

[dameronology]

rockstar {s.r x reader} - 1

summary: you and steve rogers are famous for two extremely different reasons - you’re a famous rockstar, and he’s a superhero. your main personality trait is sarcasm and he’s a squeaky clean super-soldier. it takes him exactly one night to fall in love with you. what could possibly go wrong?

this part one of my first series! enjoyyyyy

- val xx 

length: 2.4k 

warnings: swearing, implied smut, me not knowing anything at at all about 1940s records lol i’m so sorry

You were absolutely shit-faced the first time you met Steve Rogers.

It was a charity ball for...you couldn’t remember. You’d been guilt tripped by your publicist into attending. Something about improving your public image after trying to punch someone in a club the week before (in your defence, he’d tried to grab your ass). You’d put on your fancy leather jacket and a nice, black dress and smiled for a few pictures. You’d even made an effort to wear your less scuffed Doc Martens. That took effort. 

Steve spotted you from across the room almost immediately. He was sat on his own at the table, bored out of his sane mind. The sneaky bastards he’d come with - namely Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes - had both buggered off to the open bar. They’d sworn that they wouldn’t be long but his two best friends and free alcohol had never been a good combination.

You were sat three tables away; your thickly lined eyelids were hazed with tiredness and you had an unlit cigarette resting between your painted red lips. Your leather jacket was slung across your shoulders, but his immediate attention was drawn to the tangle of intricate drawings and illustrations that filled your arms. Your nails were decorated with chipped, black polish, and each finger had a different ring on it - all in a dark shade.

Steve knew who you were straight away. Your face was everywhere, all the time - if your face wasn’t on the TV, your band’s music was playing on the radio or in an advert. There was a lot of drums and guitars. He remembered reading somewhere that your group had saved modern rock and roll. It seemed like a big title to live up to - and he knew what that felt like.

You spotted him staring at you; cocking your head to the side and thinning your eyes with a curious gaze. ‘You got a lighter, Captain America?

Before Steve could respond, you stood up from your chair and sauntered towards him. Your thin dress fell around your legs as you rose, revealing more animated images on your skin. He could see them through the rips in your tights. Was it a fashion choice? It looked amazing either way. 

You took the empty seat next to him, placing the cigarette down. ‘Well?’

‘Uh,’ c’mon Rogers, use your words. ‘No, sorry. I don’t smoke.’

‘Yeah, me neither.’ Your scarlet lips twisted into something that might have resembled a smirk. 

You were shorter than he imagined in real life - not that it was something he gave much thought. It’s just - you were Y/N. Your musical talent and showmanship had been compared to that of Bowie or Mercury. It didn’t mean that you weren’t intimidating, because you certainly were. 

What was it that Sam had joked about? Big dick energy? He didn’t know what it was, but you definitely had it.

‘So, Mr America - tell me,’ You used the melting candle in the middle of the table to light the cigarette, taking a long draw, ‘do I have something in my teeth?’

‘No, definitely not, why’d you ask?’

‘- cause you've been staring at me for ten minutes.’

‘Right. That.’ Steve stared at the floor, trying to ignore the red creeping up his cheeks. ‘I just...you’re really beautiful.’

Dammit, Rogers, way to go! he heard himself scream internally, what kind of fool leads with that?

Your cool demeanour faltered for a split second - not long enough for anyone to notice. But Steve wasn’t anyone; he was staring at you intensely, examining every detail of your face. Because damn, you were fucking stunning. 

‘I haven’t heard that pick-up line,’ you quipped. ‘Why didn’t you come over and say hi? It’s rude to stare, 

You bit your lip, tugging at the thin metal ring that rested in the middle. It was the only piercing on your face; it was dainty, elegant. The gold stood out against the blood red you had painted your lips. The lips that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.

‘Are you meant to be smoking inside?’

‘No, probably not.’ You cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky wink. ‘What are they gonna do? Kick me out?’

‘They could.’

‘Then my plan will have worked perfectly.’ You leant across the table to stub it out, purposely moving closer towards him as you did.

Steve caught a whiff of your perfume; Chanel, of course. He watched as you took his drink out his hand, your cold fingers briefly brushing his. You finished the remains of his red wine with a singular gulp, placing the glass back down on the table.

‘Your glass is empty. We should get another drink.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ He stood up, extending his arm out to you.

You tugged your leather jacket over your shoulders and hooked your arm through his, leading him across the dance floor to the bar. You weren’t all dolled up like the rest of the women in your room. They were all equally gorgeous, but you had his full attention; almost hypnotic.

Steve spotted Sam and Bucky at the bar. They were both clutching a glass of something, and Sam almost did a double take when he saw you attached to his friend. He hadn’t seen you in person before but as Steve as observed, you were intimidatingly beautiful in a mysterious sort of way. 

‘Is that-’

‘- yup.’ Bucky could answer Sam’s question before he’d even fully asked it. 

‘With-’

‘- yep.’

'These your friends?’ You asked him, raising your brows at the two star-struck men before you.

‘Bucky, Sam, this is Y/N.’

‘We know-’

‘-big fans-’

‘ - the biggest.’

You chuckled, releasing your grip from Steve’s arm as you leant against the bar. Despite the large crowds of people, you managed to hail the attention of the server as though it were second nature. Something told Steve that you spent a lot of your time in establishments like this; probably filled with more leather-jacket wearing, cigarette-smoking people in the rock industry.

‘I’ll have a double vodka coke,’ you glanced at the empty glasses in the three men’s hands. ‘And refills of whatever these guys had.’

--

A few hours later, Steve had barely left your side. He wasn’t sure why you’d chosen to spend the evening with him of all people, but it wasn’t something he was going to question nor complain about. He was enchanted by you; entranced by your silky smooth voice and natural charm. 

‘It’s getting late,’ you said at one point. ‘Wanna dip?’

You were still stood by the drinks, meshed together somehow. Steve was sat on a bar stall; you were leaning against him with his arms around your front. He occasionally squeezed your sides whenever you said something that made him chuckle, and you miiiight have been resting your hands on top of his. He kept taking a second to remind himself that this was reality and you were choosing to show him physical affection.

He’d met confident women before. He was Captain America; the man was surrounded by them. But, there was something different about you. Perhaps it was the way you composed yourself, or the way you gave away just enough in conversation to keep him wanting more. If the night was going with you going your separate ways, he would be okay with that. This was more than he could have imagined when he spied you across the room four hours earlier.

‘Dip?’ Steve frowned. ‘God, I must seem so old.’

‘It means leave.’ You chuckled, twisting around to face him. ‘Urban Dictionary is your friend, Captain America.’

You hadn’t actually called him by his name the entire night. He noticed that it was always Captain America or Mr America - but, really, when it came from your mouth, he didn’t care what it was. 

‘Where were you thinking of going?’

‘My place is up the road. I have more alcohol there and a few old records you might like.’

‘I’m sold.’

You took Steve’s hand and lead him across the room, winking at Bucky and Sam as you passed. You both grabbed your jackets from the table you had ditched earlier, heading out the exit. You flashed a grin at the door-man as you passed, leaving the large building and into the streets.

It had been raining all night. The ground was wet and shining, reflecting the watercolour of city lights back up at you as you walked down the road. There was a slight nip in the air, and the post-rain city smell lingered in your nostrils. 

Petrol. Pizza. Piss. The smell of the New York that you loved so much.

‘Should I call a cab?’ Steve asked.

‘No need,’ you casually said, turning a corner into the parking lot of the ballroom. ‘You know how to ride a bike, right? I’ve had too much to drink.’

‘You have a - wow.’

The Harley Davidson that you were leaning against was almost as beautiful as you. He felt like he was dreaming - maybe he was. In his experience, people like you existed only in movies. 

‘It was a gift,’ you said, tossing the helmet at him. ‘The usual - share a picture of the bike to my Instagram followers and it’s mine.’

‘That’s a thing for you?’

‘It’s not a thing for you?’ You shot back. ‘I don’t know what superhero PR is like.’

‘I’d probably get free things if I joined Instagram,’ He reasoned, unclipping your helmet and placing it over your head.

He popped up the visor, grinning when he saw your face beaming back at him. He lifted you onto the back of the bike and took a seat in front of you, taking a minute to admire it. You obviously looked after it; the silver was shining and it was well oiled. He couldn’t say the same for his own bike. It had seen better days. 

‘I live on the corner of East 50th and 3rd.’ You said, dangling the key in front of him.

He took it from your hand, twisting it in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and you wrapped your arms around his back as the bike took off. It was a smooth ride - if not a little cold - but you got to your apartment building quickly. Steve was good at weaving in and out of traffic - not that there was much on the roads at 2am on a Tuesday morning. 

He parked the bike in the assigned spot in your garage; it was a fancy, underground affair below the high-rise apartment building. It was no surprise that you could afford such an extravagant place. There was a door-man who welcomed you, and a lift that took you right up to your flat. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but the place was undeniably you. It had floor to ceiling windows and marble counters, but it felt homely. There was a large black chesterfield couch parked in the middle, piled high with fluffy pillows and blankets. A deep-purple Persian rug took up most the floor, housing a vast chestnut dining table. The entire place was crammed with trinkets; books and candles and magnets from all the places you’d toured. 

‘This place is beautiful,’ Steve commented, glancing at the record placards on the wall; gold, platinum and silver. 

‘And expensive,’ you replied. ‘Wine?’

You were holding a half-empty bottle of red; slightly less expensive that the stuff they’d been serving at the gala. Alcohol hardly had much of an affect on him anymore but Steve shrugged and nodded all the same, taking the glass as you handed it to him. 

You kicked off your boots and padded across the floor, dropping down onto the sofa. You patted the space next to you, moving a few pillows so that a seat was visible. 

‘Why did you invite me back?’ Steve found himself asking. ‘I mean, I’m not stupid but there’s not normally not this much talking-’

‘- I didn’t invite you here just to have my way with you, Captain America,’ You snorted. ‘It’s on the itinerary, but it’s not the only thing.’

You leant across to the coffee table, fumbling around a pile of magazines. A triumphant grin crossed your face when you produced some dusty old records; he immediately recognised them. He’d had the exact Frank Sinatra discs way back when. 

‘I got these at an old record store in London on my first tour.’ You explained. ‘They’re first editions, and they were just lazing around the bowels of Camden Market. Most people didn’t see what a big deal it was, but I figured you might.’

‘God, I haven’t seen these in ages,’ Steve chuckled, turning the vinyl sleeve around in his hands. 

You took the record from his hands, carrying it over to the old record player by your TV. Your vinyl collection was vast; it ranged from 1920s singers to stuff as recent as today. It was easy to find and source rare records when you had a big name. 

You put the vinyl in place, letting the needle fall onto the A-side. A few seconds later, a crackly sound began to flood the high walls of your apartment, filling the cold, empty air with a sound that Steve hadn’t heard in a long time. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Were you even real? How could someone as beautiful as you, someone who owned the perfect bike and the perfect records, actually exist? Had someone spiked his drink? This might have been a hallucination.

‘You know, I said to myself earlier that this night was gonna suck,’ He said to you. ‘I was wrong.’

You chuckled, taking a step closer to him. ‘So wrong.’

‘Even if it ends here, I’m pretty happy.’

He took you in his arms, and in a move that surprised even himself, he grabbed you by the waist and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was something between a sweet kiss and a desperate kiss; the kind that steals the air from your lungs and takes a second to process. For the first time that evening, Steve was the leading one, the domineering one.

And, it was safe to say that the night did not end there.

[deliberatelyvague]

This Too Shall Pass(obey me)

Prologue (1/?)

Started: April 15, 2020 at 9:47pm

Ended: April 15, 2020 at 10:54pm

Word Count: 2,069

Pairing(s): none yet

Trigger Warning(s): mentions of an eating disorder

Author’s Note: man I didn’t know where I was going with this one, either, but it seems like I’m making a series now. I was pretty much just ranting at the beginning about my life, and decided, yeah, that’s a good place to start, and viola, here we go.

Request/Prompt: nope, just my mind telling me to do it.

————

You had always been on the heavier side when it came to your weight. Ever since you were in elementary school, you always weighed more than everyone else. It was never a big issue to you until you hit middle school and your doctor started saying something about it.

You knew it was for your better health, so you didn’t try to take it to heart. She laid out a plan and you, along with your family, tried to stick to it.

But the gnawing, guilty feeling in your gut made you want to just stop the diet. It was obviously weighing hazardous on your parents, then being forced to buy ‘healthier’ options which in turn made them more expensive options, and your family was never the most rich, just having enough to live moderately comfortably.

So, the next time you went to the doctor and you had lost around 30 pounds, you were praised. Your doctor was proud of you, your parents were proud of you. And you thought all was fine.

But you gained the weight back. By eighth grade you had gained it back and more, by ninth grade you weighed 20 pounds more than your original weight in sixth grade.

“Are you stress eating?” Your mom asked you. Around this time of your life was stressful, you were being thrust into a new school, a whole new teaching environment, not to mention any clubs you had decided to join. Your depression and anxiety has also ridden you. But you told her you hadn’t, because you really hadn’t been stress eating, you just didn’t think much about what you ate.

The doctor wasn’t as nervous about this weight gain, though, because you had joined a ‘sport’, and you would most likely be losing some of that weight.

But you didn’t lose that weight, you stayed the same. So you made your new year’s tradition to lose weight. You started counting calories, making yourself a minimum of 1,300 and a maximum of 1,500. It worked great! The next time you went to the doctor, which was when you had a sickness and needed to get medicine for it, you had lost 15 pounds, and you were proud of yourself, and your parents and everyone around you were proud.

You didn’t feel like you needed to lose weight. But, the next year rolled around, and you were trying to get closer to your crush. You tried to text them and just talk to them, but they eventually just said

‘I’m just putting this out there, there isn’t anything going on between us and there never will be’

It stung, oh it really stung. You hadn’t even implied anything, and they still told you that. You played it off like you were trying to get anything, but you knew you were lying to yourself.

Then you found out they had a crush on a girl that you were friends with, who was noticeably skinnier than you. You took that to heart. They wanted a skinny girl, not one that was double the size of her.

So, you started counting calories again. But this time, you didn’t set a minimum, you were eating at most 1,300 calories, but some days you were eating less. Nothing below 500, but then you noticed how quickly the weight dropped. So, you cut out breakfast, snacks, and lunch.

Your friends were worried, but your parents didn’t notice. Your mom and dad knew you were counting calories, and they cheered you on, thinking you were eating the proper amount, and you didn’t tell them anything different.

But then, your mom started making little remarks here and there. You didn’t think she meant them to be actually mean or hurtful, but they were like a dagger in your already sore back.

“Yeah, she just measures her food, and half the time she has more on her plate than I do!” You cut your meals in half after that. Her saying that made you feel fat. But she was right, a lot of the time you did have more food on your plate, but not anymore.

Then you hit a wall in your weight loss.

“It’s probably because all you do is lay in bed all day. You need to start exercising.” Again, she was right. You were just laying in bed all day. So, you started going on walks, using an app to help you keep track of how many calories you burned.

Then you realized how easily you can cut down more calories and also burn fat off, so you continued to exercise. The weight started to come off again.

But you were still fat. You were still heavier than most people your age. You hated it.

You had gone on your daily run. You were tired of being trapped inside, so you put on your shorts and a tank top and grabbed your phone, some sunglasses, and your earbuds and went running.

Now here you were, standing in a new environment after being zapped from your world. You wore a black jacket, with an almost turquoise turtleneck underneath, a skirt that hit your mid-thigh, tights, and flats.

Your eyes met with a pair of golden ones, and a man wearing almost the exact same jacket as you but in a crimson color was looking at you. A grin adorned his face, and you couldn’t help but give a small smile back.

“Welcome to the Devildom, [Y/N],” he greeted, his voice coming out younger than you thought it would.

‘Wait, Devildom?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I must have passed out due to low sugar, I knew I should have drank a Gatorade before I went on my run, but-’

“Oh, pardon me, feeling a bit shocked, are we?” His smile was quickly replaced with a frown. You had just met this man and already you felt your heart start to flutter a little bit at his concern. “Well, that’s understandable, you’ve only just arrived, after all.”

‘Calm down, [Y/N], he’s not interested in you.’ You told yourself.

“As a human, it will probably take a little while for you to adjust to things here in the Devildom,” he said, his face going stoic again. You stayed quiet, just choosing to look at him. You sure as hell were not going to feed into this low-sugar induced dream. “I suppose I should start by introducing myself. My name is Diavolo,” he gave a smile again. “I am the ruler of all demons and all here know of me. And someday soon, I will be crowned king of the Devildom.”

You had a flash to a vision outside, a city outline met your view and a bunch of dark shades of red, blues, and purples flitted across your vision.

“This is the Royal Academy of Diavolo, though we just call it RAD. You’re standing inside the assembly hall, the very heart of RAD. This is where we officers of the student council hold our meetings and conduct our business. I’m the president of said council.” He tells you, looking directly at you after admiring the room.

“Why am I here?” You questioned, your arms crossing over your chest.

“I will explain everything to you,” another male voice sounded next to Diavolo. This man was shorter, leaner, and had a black jacket on like yours. He had black hair and an almost angry look on his face, but he seemed like he was one to have a resting angry face.

“[Y/N], this is Lucifer. He is a demon and the Avatar of Pride.” Diavolo introduces him, and you shake your head. This isn’t funny anymore, you just wanted to wake up.

You weren’t going to let your subconscious guilt-trip you into believing in that stuff anymore. Your church had cast you out, and you vowed to do the same to them.

“He’s also the Vice President of the student council and my right-hand man, and not just in title, I assure you.” Diavolo explains more, and you looked between the two of them. Were they lovers? You weren’t going to judge them, they would make a cute couple, but that’s one of the worst ways to tell someone that someone else is taken that you think you’ve ever heard. “Beyond that, he is one of my most trusted friends.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Diavolo,” Lucifer says with an uninterested look on his face. He turned to you. “Speaking on the behalf of the entire student body and this great and storied school of ours, I offer you a most heart full welcome, [Y/N].” He smiled after you.

You only frowned.

“On behalf of the students?”

“Diavolo believes that we demons should start strengthening our relationships with both the human world and the Celestial Realm.” No, you refused to believe this is real.

Maybe you had died? You had always been told that you were going to hell, maybe you pushed yourself too hard and you hit your head when you passed out and died. That would make much more sense than this being a dream. It seemed too, lifelike almost.

“As a first step toward this goal, we’ve decided to institute an exchange program. We’ve sent two of our students to the human world and two to the Celestial Realm. And we’re welcoming four students to ours: two form your world and two from the Celestial Realm.”

You purse your lips. Yeah, you had to be dead, there’s no other way to explain this. You guess when you die, you just become an ‘exchange student’ and your place gets taken by another being. Is that some twisted type of reincarnation that your church never taught you about? Your church falsely taught you a lot of things, so that was probably just something they hopped over because it didn’t fit their agenda.

“So, I take it you’ve probably put two and two together at this point, right?” He asks. “You’ve been chosen from among the people of the human world to participate in this program of ours. You are our newest exchange student.”

A feeling settled into your stomach. No, this was real. You weren’t dead, or passed out. This was real.

“Your period of stay is one year. You will have to work on the tasks that you will receive from RAD. After one year, you will write a paper about your exchange here in the Devildom.”

You were taken aback. Hold the phone for a moment.

“Write a paper?” You questioned, taking a step back.

“I am not telling you to write a doctoral thesis. You can take it easy,” he tried to semi-comfort, hit also giving you a ‘tough luck’ look. So you gave him one back, and glared at him. “Don’t glare at me like that. It’s not like I will abandon you all by yourself here in the Devildom. You need someone to look after you, and I think that someone should be my brother Mammon.”

He took a breath, almost as if to collect his thoughts.

“He’s the Avatar of Greed and how should I put it..” he paused again, thinking, with an unamused look on his face. “Oh, well you’ll understand soon enough.”

You opened your mouth to say something, a frown yet again covering your face, but you couldn’t get anything out before a phone-like item was thrust into your grasp. You just now realized that you didn’t have your phone on you.

“Take this device, it’s called a DDD. It’s a lot like the cell phones of your world. This will be yours to use as long as you’re here. Now,” he says gently. “Go ahead and try calling Mammon with it.”

You eye him suspiciously before going and tapping on the icon labeled ‘Mammon’.

————

This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 5)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE: bit of backstory in this chapter, warning if you don't like blood, theres some but its not overly descriptive. Other than that, bit of Carrillo, bit of OC. bit of everything really. shorter chapter

WORD COUNT: 2.4k 

CHAPTER:   5 OF ?

TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

Greyson stayed slumped against the wall longer than necessary, hopelessly trying to bring her heart rate back to normal after the frankly, overwhelmingly hot, interaction with the Colonel. Yes she was ecstatic that she had been chosen for his team, but she wasn’t really able to process that information after the mess he had left her in. She was panting like a dog in heat, unbearably turned on, and sticky in places she hadn’t been in a very long time. Whatever he had just done to her, she wanted more of it. Lots more of it. He had opened a gateway into all things filthy and it frustrated her to no end.

Pushing herself into the upright position was no easy feat, but she knew she needed to work out her frustration even more after that interaction with the Colonel.  No, she thought, maybe from now on I should call him Carrillo, since he is now my boss and all. The thrill of that settled low in her stomach and had her heart jumping at the thought. Grunting she pushed herself towards the gym with haste, before she could follow the mounting temptation to follow the Colo--- Carrillo, down the hallway to finish what he started. 

Glancing around the gym she made note of the equipment. A few boxing bags, a couple of dumb bells, a bench press and other various things she could not name. Not the best of gyms but it would do. Stripping out of her long sleeve camo shirt she was left in her army issue green t-shirt, a shirt that was usually reserved for occasions such as this. She made the hasty decision to shuck off her boots and socks leaving her barefoot, before rolling her pants legs up a few inches to rest a rough inch below her knee. A much more practical workout attire. 

Forgoing the weights as they weren’t her style, Greyson focused on the bags hanging in the middle of the room. Now this is where she would have fun. Coming from a generational military family had meant that her father had wanted her ‘fighting fit’ as soon as she was able to walk. By the time she was five years old she had been enrolled in martial arts and kids cadets. By age twelve she had won three championships in the sport and taken home the drill trophy at the cadet school. She couldn’t have made her father prouder, until the moment she won nationals for kickboxing, taking home the trophy and quite substantial prize money. That was the moment she knew she wanted to fight for a living, not as a pro kickboxer but as a soldier like her father was, she was only fifteen at the time. 

At age seventeen she enlisted in the army, only to be denied on medical grounds and put on a two year stand down. From then on out, her father didn’t pay her any notice, always stealing himself away from the ‘disappointment’ of the family and being deployed for months at a time on purpose. Being the only child, and being denied access into the only service her family thought fit to serve in, made her feel like a useless waste of space. 

Even while feeling like the worlds biggest disappointment she still pushed herself to her limits, training seven days a week for up to four hours a day, trying oh so desperately to make her father proud of her. At nineteen she didn’t want to become a regular soldier, she wanted to become an officer, but that would require her to wait another two years to be the minimum age to enlist. So she waited, kept training hard. She took shooting lessons at the local range, would do weighted pack runs three times a week and spend hours out in the bush at night teaching herself survival techniques. All the things she could hope would help her when she finally made the cut. 

When she enlisted again at twenty-one, they denied her on the grounds that ‘she didn’t have enough life experience’, so this time, instead of letting it get to her, she doubled down on the training. And finally, when she reapplied again at twenty two years of age, she was accepted and began her first day of training a mere week after her twenty third birthday. Yet, she was still one of the youngest of the cadets she enlisted with, the eldest, Cadet Monroe, being thirty two years of age. It baffled her why someone would join as a cadet at that age when she knew the LT. Colonel, and possibly the Colonel himself, was younger than the cadet. 

Pushing those thought from her mind Greyson began her workout, spending a small amount of time to warm up, before jumping straight into combination drills on the bag that she had learnt many years ago. She was able to switch off at this point, the years of doing the same routines over and over had drilled this into her muscle memory. She was all fluid motion and hard calculated strikes at her age. Briefly her thoughts return to the situation that had occurred mere minutes ago in the hallway. The way the Colonel’s body had been so tightly pushed against her had her breathing increasing, far from being exhausted  she threw more weight into her strikes. 

Damn that handsome bastard of an officer for working me up like this. This is the kind of shit that shouldn’t be getting to me anymore! , and with one last frustrated huff Greyson threw her hardest punch yet, yelping from the force of landing on the bag. She pulled her hand towards her chest to examine it. From the look of it, there was no damage done other than a few bruises covering her knuckles, not an unusual feeling for the cadet. She just wish she had been quick enough to land a hit of that smug face that was now haunting her thoughts more so than ever. 

                                                       -------

Carrillo had finally made it to his intended destination, Lt. Colonel Sinclair's’ office. There was small doubt in his mind that the man residing within the office had been playing upon His cadets’ emotions during the course of her training. He wasn’t a stupid man by any means, he had put two and two together after witnessing the moment that occurred between himself and Greyson at the training yards. The smug smirk the Lt. had sported while walking past him that   day had planted a seed of disrespect towards the man. 

Carrillo didn't bother to knock on the man's door before barging in, he was in fact the senior officer in this situation so the LT. could suck it up. 

Sinclair stood up in a hell of a rush, not really sure as to who would be bursting into his office at this time of day, he had half expected to see Cadet Greyson standing there waiting to apologize and finally accept his attention, instead he was greeted with the stone faced Colonel from Columbia.  “Ah Sir, good to see you again, I gather that your time on the base has been productive, congrats on forming your team. Now, what can I help you with, Sir ?”

“It has been brought to my attention that you were not forthcoming about the information regarding the cadet that I have selected, rather you lied to the cadets while claiming you had not yet been informed yourself, is this true Lieutenant?”  

“I... uh... what Sir. I don’t know where you got that bullshit from but that is not the case, I held Greyson behind to give her the good news but she stormed off before I could tell her” The lieutenant cleared his throat to cover his mounting embarrassment at the situation before him. He definitely wasn’t above lying to cover his tracks and throw the Colonel in front of him off the scent of his essentially illegal advances at the cadet mentioned. He was greeted with a raised eyebrow and a knowing look on the Columbians face.

“I think it's safe to say you can cut the shit, Sinclair. I know all about your advances toward Cadet Greyson. I fail to see why you would lie about it considering the rumors' brewing in the Cadets barracks tonight. That and might I mention the encounter I witnessed between you and Greyson just a few days ago. There was nothing professional about that!” 

“Look, Sir” The Lt. Colonel spat, making his way around his desk to make himself look bigger, “Frankly it's none of your damn business which cadets I chose to associate with or not. Greyson can make up her own mind about what and WHO, she wants. And let's face it, they graduate in a little over a week now. The cadets are fair game to the rest of the corps now” The borderline insubordination coupled with the hungry grin cemented exactly what the Lt. Colonel was trying to obtain. The realization had Colonel Carrillo’s stomach turning at the thought. If he was this open and honest about his intentions then HIS cadet was in a very rocky situation. 

Clearing his throat and taking a rather large step toward the lower ranked officer before him, the Colonel fought off the need to punch the smug man in the face. But there was no point in doing that, lest he chase off the Cadet from his team, he still was unsure of her exact feelings for the man currently before him. He tilted his head back to stare down his nose at the perverse man before him.  Crowding just ever so close to the man to make him uncomfortable.

“I suggest you stay the fuck away from that recruit, Lieutenant. She is part of MY  team which now makes her, MY  responsibility and henceforth, MY cadet. Keep your filthy hands off her or I'll have you charged for unwanted advances, then it will be goodbye senior rank and back to junior officer you go. Understood?” The Colonel declared, fully expecting the man before him to back down, except defeat and allow him to carry on with his evening. The exact opposite occurred.

“I think there is something you just don’t quite get, Sir” the Lt. Colonel scoffed, “That girl out there, that stupid young cadet, will believe anything that is fed to her. How do you think I got her wrapped around my finger in the first place” He laughed off the end of his sentence, pushing at the Colonels’ shoulders in order to get past him to sit back down behind his desk.  “As far as I'm concerned, you don’t have a single claim on that cadet until she accepts your proposal to join your team..” he trailed off before delivering the most sarcastic “SIR!” he could muster. Shoulder shaking as he chuckled away to himself. 

                                                        -------

Greyson had pushed herself to the point of over exertion. Working out at a hundred percent capacity would do that to a person, even if she was used to endurance training. Combining the work out with her mental and previous physical exertion had been enough for her to drop to the mats after a solid hour of hammering the training bag. Her knuckles of her left hand were thoroughly bruised but the knuckles of her right hand were a bit more worse for wear. A deep gash had formed over the knuckle of her index finger, the bloody pouring steadily from the gash, the rest of her knuckles on that hand were marked with much smaller gashes, a minimal amount of blood coming from the cuts. It looked like she’d killed someone. 

Cradling her hand to her chest she made her way to the bathroom adjacent to the gym. She turned the tap on, waiting for the water to run clear before thrusting her hands under it to clean off the blood, barely flinching at the sting that came from cleaning out the gash. The sink turned a faded crimson from the amount of blood being washed from her hands. She felt numb, unbearingly so, it seemed the week had finally caught up with her, she felt as though she could curl up in a ball right now  and wake up a week later. So lost in her own thoughts and mesmerized by the blood flowing from her hands and into the sink, she failed to notice the presence behind her until it was too late.  One minute the cadet is watching her blood flow down the sink, the next her vision is fading to black. 

                                                      -------

Carrillo was fuming, muscles taught, hands curled tight  and ready to release upon the man before him. His jaw was clenched so tight he could hear his teeth grinding together. He took a step towards the man with the full intent of knocking his flat onto the floor, black out cold. And he would have too, if it wasn’t for the frantic knocking followed closely by Cadet Calliope all but throwing himself into the room. 

“Sir, come quick, it's Greyson” Calliope exclaimed. There was a frantic tone in his voice that snapped both men out of their grudge match. 

Carrillo spun to give the young man his full attention, before nodding at the recruit, “Lead the way Cadet” . They followed the cadet through the twists and turns of the hallways leading towards the medics bay. Upon seeing both officers the nurses rushed them through to her room. And there, laying almost deathly still, was Cadet Greyson. Gash above her eyebrow being stitched together as Carrillo watched on from the door. She looked nothing like the strong cadet he had seen perform all week. She looked fragile, too fragile. Not wanting to watch any further he pushed past Sinclair who was standing directly behind him, mouth agape, hands shaking and look like he might collapse himself.

Carrillo grabbed Calliope by the arm, pulling him down the hallway and into a spare room. He rounded on the cadet, finger pointed and eyes ablaze, as he hissed,  “Explain to me exactly what you know Cadet, and don’t you dare leave anything out” 

Cadet Calliope gulped, mouth suddenly dry. Well here goes nothing,  he thought

[stainandscribble]

Revenant (Part 1)

Pairing: Baekhyun X OC

Genre: Baekhyun Witch AU; fluff; fantasy; angst

Summary: To witches, names hold power, and Eleonora happens to have a very dangerous gift, one that can be deadly when misused- she has the ability to read names, true names that the witches and warlocks share only with people of utmost trust. It is a secret she hopes to take to her grave. Baekhyun had left his coven, and joined one with Suho’s. They too, possess unspeakable gifts. When Junmyeon warns him of his marriage, Baekhyun begins preparing, but so does Eleonora. With the veil thinning, and the darker half approaching, will their secrets stay safe? Or will the world burn?

PART 1    PART 2    PART 3   PART 4   PART 5   PART 6   PART 7

Word Count: 3907

October started as the beginning of a golden autumn. Cast in sunlight and warmth, with the leaves turning from vivid green to various hues of oranges, yellows and reds. It came as a time for harvest and a time to accumulate food for the winter. It was going to finish the week of Samhain, as the festival of the harvest’s end was approaching. The days were turning shorter, the darkness of night falling upon the cooling earth faster than during the lighter half.  The darker half was approaching and with it, the opening of the veil between the worlds. The darker half was nearing.

The Veil between the worlds was Thinning, he could feel it in the air, the way it was cooling, in the faint waft of wood smoke and the unmistakable scent of decay that lingered if you had a good inhale of it. He could see it when the bells on his door jingled on their own.  Soon enough Baekhyun would have to prepare wards for his house. Real wards. The kind which keep evil at bay through ancient magic. For now, he was content with burning sage and hanging garlic at his front door. For now, that was enough.  

This year, unlike all the other years, he was also clearing out space in his home. That space would soon find a new occupant. Baekhyun knew he should be content. This time, during the darker half, he would not be alone. He would have someone to share steaming hot tea with, and someone to bake with too. Junmyeon had given him a Warning. It was a tradition among witches, to give Warnings before marriage. It allowed for time to clear out space and prepare a dowry. A witch’s dowry was harder to prepare than the mortal one. It was not monetary; it did not involve giving away the wife’s property to the husband. Witch’s dowries included the wisdom of their covens, spell books, recipe books, bringing food for the winter, gifting your chosen one something warm. Those things had no monetary value, and they were certainly not coveted by any one person. They were shared, as life was shared when they became family.

 Eleonora was also preparing for Samhain. The lavender standing at her windowsill warded off the evil spirits passing through the holes in the veil. She had spent the month preparing preserves for her dowry. Witch weddings that happened during the darker half were celebrated quietly, and both parties had to get preserves ready, as well as something warm for their chosen one- witches and warlocks gave each other scarves, hats, jumpers, often made by hand, with charms sowed into their designs, or attached as beads or tassels or as talismans hidden away inside of pompoms.

Her elders had given her a Warning, foretelling the marriage that was to take place after the celebrations of Samhain were over.  She knew that once the elders predicted her marriage, it was inevitable. That was just the way it always was- the elders would give a Warning, and soon enough she would meet the person she was fated to be with.

It just so happened that they gave her this Warning late. Normally, the young members were warned years before their weddings, she, as they told her, was warned weeks prior.

Just as her future husband was clearing out space for her in his home, she was busy packing. Over the last few weeks, less and less of her things littered her family home. Gone were the books with soft spines, and the little trinkets she brought back from her travels. Her mother helped her make their family’s apricot jam, and her father helped her put together all the family spell books and recipe books he had been copying the last few years. It was all a little melancholy. She was leaving her old, established coven, for a small, new one. All its members were the first generation of their coven, despite coming from different ones themselves. She heard rumours the leader of her future husband’s coven was going to lead his family’s coven but left for a new life with the people he trusted.

That meant their coven was small, compromising of only nine members, and their three wives. So far, only the coven elders, if you could even call them that, were married, and the fourth in line was next. It was him she would marry.

 -----------------------

Baekhyun had known he would marry to tie two covens together, Junmyeon had warned him years ago, and when he finally told him that this was the year, Baekhyun was deeply worried, seeing as in a few weeks’ time he would marry him off to a witch in a different coven, for an alliance. He wished this marriage would be a happy one, just like Junmyeon’s marriage was, and like Minseok’s and Yixing’s were. That was the only thing he asked for when he lit candles in the evening, and it was his one hope when he cleared out more cupboards of useless knickknacks.

 ------------------------

“We are meeting today.” Eleonora’s mother told her over breakfast, eyeing the letter on the table in front of her. She dressed in her best green silk dress, braided her hair put in the pretty golden hairpins, the ones that looked like stars.

She walked to the coven house with her parents, where the elders were already waiting, their coven gathering around the large round open hall, leaving the middle as a space for their guests. She stood with her parents to the right of the Crone, waiting for the arrival of the new coven.

When the double doors opened, nine men walked in, three of them had come in hand in hand with their wives, and Eleonora could have sworn she knew them- they were the oldest unmarried daughters of the covens her own one was allied with. The leader’s wife, she noted, was a friend to her, one she has not seen in a while, as she had left a year ago to further her study.

“Winnie.” Eleonora’s lips moved soundlessly around her name, but Winnie had noticed, as her eyes widened at the sight of the young woman, with her true name on her lips. 

Here was the thing with witch names; no one introduced themselves using their true name. Not on the first meeting, and not until an alliance was made. Names were a powerful thing in the witch world. Knowing a name meant another witch could curse you, summon you, possess you. Knowing true names was an act of truest trust. Names were dangerous when in the wrong hands. That was why witches kept them a secret. That was also why disputes between covens were often deadly. Knowing a true name was a dangerous game that gave the one in possession of such knowledge great power. It was a great power witches did not want to give out without reassurance.

Eleonora was another case entirely.

There was one thing no one knew. A secret she had never told, and she didn’t know if she would ever tell. She could read names- the real ones, hiding behind the fake ones. She could take one look at a person and know their name. And that was the most frightening power of all. Witches believed everything revolved around their true names. The havoc she would wreak if they knew she knew all their names would be incomprehensible. Eleonora had power. A terrifying one never seen before within their magic. A power so dangerous she was afraid of it. Eleonora had spent her life keeping it a secret, allowing it to weigh on her like a burden she would never let go of.

So, when the leader introduced himself, she knew it was a lie, and she also knew the truth. 

He stood at the front of the little procession, dressed in all black, his hair dark like the night. With an unyielding stare, he first bowed lightly to the Crone, and then looked straight to Eleonora, sending a chill running down her spine. Next, he moved his gaze to her parents. She thought he noted her father’s displeasure. She could taste the sourness on her tongue. Her father knew that in established covens, joining in with smaller, newer ones was a normal occurrence-that was how him and her mother had met, but it was not how they married. Eleonora’s parents got married after the alliance was made, when her father’s cousin got married to a member of her mother’s coven. Even then, they received a Warning.

Eleonora could tell right away that the ties between their coven were strong. They were the ties of choice, and she knew without looking, that they were not like her coven- there was no blood ties, they were young, building power. So, they sought out her coven, an old one, spanning back centuries, back to the original Salem women. And Eleonora were the oldest daughter of the generation that was still unmarried.

“My name is Suho.” Eleonora looked at him, and then at Winnie standing to his right, as the next oldest stood to his left.

Behind them, the rest of the coven lined up neatly. Some had their hair dyed unnatural colours, and your eyes caught onto the man with white hair.

He wasn’t the tallest, but she knew that in the coven, he was one of the elders. That was the man she knew she would marry. Eleonora could feel it in her bones, she could see it in his eyes as he looked at her with a gentleness in his brown eyes, that contrasted the hard and unyielding stare of the coven leader.

“I am Vesta. Welcome to our coven.” The Crone had smiled at Suho’s hard expression, and the cold look in his eyes. She had seen many young men with that look, and it had stopped fazing her well before he was born. The young were distrusting, she knew that. Even so, she smiled and offered a warm twinkle in her eyes, rather than the cold expression of the young witches and warlocks surrounding them on all sides of the hall.

“This is Baek.” Suho introduced, pointing out to the man with white hair, as he stepped to join the leader a step behind the second oldest.

“He is the one we chose to join our coven with yours.” Suho continued, eyes peering to see the expression on Eleonora’s face, as she surveyed the white-haired man from head to toe. She had given nothing away. There was no shy smile when he watched Baek’s and Eleonora’s eyes meet. There was no looking away in haste. No blush on her cheeks. No fiddling her hands in anticipation. She was simply observing, and Suho did not know whether that was a good or a bad omen.

Baekhyun on the other hand, was not too fazed about her lack of smiling. She had not averted her eyes, but held his gaze, and he thought she was mesmerising. Her eyes started deeply into him, and he felt like she had stolen a secret from him. He just could not tell what she had stolen. There was a feeling of unease bubbling in the pit of his stomach, making him a little wary of his wife to be.

“Did he receive his Warning?” The Crone asked, and it was Baekhyun who responded in place of his leader, his brown eyes never leaving the girl’s he was meant to marry.

“Years go.” His voice was melodic, ringing out clearly through the quiet hall, just like his leaders had been.

“When did she receive hers?” Suho asked, eyes falling from the Crone to Eleonora, whose bright green eyes remained indifferent as they peered back at him.

“The last full moon.” The answer shocked Suho. It had shocked the rest of his coven as well.

The elders turned to one another, murmuring questions and sharing their disbelief. The younger members, the ones standing behind the leader, had shared their surprise with one another, a few exclamations of disbelief etched through the hall, muffled by the buzz of conversation between the guests. Eleonora’s coven said nothing. They had all known she was warned only about a month ago, and it had caused an uproar then, but it only created an understanding silence now.

“As is tradition, they will marry a full moon cycle after Samhain. That leaves them with two months to prepare. That is enough time to prepare everything for their wedding.” The Crone had continued. Their guests had quietened down, but she could see the slight anger that was now bubbling under Suho’s skin, and the disbelief that bubbled under Baek’s.

“Why was she only warned a month ago?” Suho asked, a demand for an explanation carrying his voice through the hall.

“Before your coven stepped foot into our Circle of Influence, she had no Warning, because she had no reason to have one.” It was a simple explanation. Before they stepped foot in their Circle of Influence, there was very little chance of her meeting Baek, and so there was little chance of marriage, if there was any, between them.

Suho wondered whether that was also why Baek’s own coven had not given him a Warning when he was younger, and why it was Suho who had given it to him once he joined.

“Many witches never marry.” Suho tried to remain nonchalant.

“The greatest often do not.” The Crone said, looking down at Suho with kind eyes, ones he did not fully reciprocate. He did stop staring at them with hard eyes though, allowing himself to relax a little. Something Eleonora and the Crone were sure came to him with great difficulty.

“The Mother keeps them as their own people.” Suho answered.

“Does The Mother not keep all witches as their own people?” The Crone asked, rising one of her eyebrows. She knew he was still young; but she also knew he wasn’t a fool.

“She does. But that does not mean She keeps them lonely.” Suho responded. And the Crone wanted to laugh. He was still young. He was young and married, and she hoped, in love. He was not lonely, he did not know what lonely was. Not yet anyway. No husband did not mean they were lonely. Many witches never received their Warnings but married. Many witches received Warnings but never married. Not being married did not mean you were lonely. What was the coven? What were friends, chosen by you to love and cherish and support? What was family, who had cherished you from birth, who would cherish you till death? No, The Mother did not leave them lonely.

“Were the greatest witches lonely?” She prodded.

“Was she, who was not destined for anybody, going to be lonely?” She asked, eyes falling to Eleonora herself.

Baekhyun watched the exchange in silence, eyes falling to his wife to be, as she straightened. He watched in awe as her eyes hardened, and the expression of cool indifference left her features, only to be replaced with silent rage. She looked mesmerising.

“Life should be shared.” Suho responded, and the moment his mouth closed, Baekhyun watched his wife to be open her mouth. Split seconds she let out her rage.

“You chose who to share your life with.” She said, and her voice carried through the hall, silencing any background noise, making all eyes turn to look at her. Despite all the attention, she did not falter, and for that, Baekhyun respected her.

“I could have rejected my Warning. I could have rejected my lack of Warning too. My fate, is decided by me.” She told Suho, without any fear or hesitation, speaking her truth.

“Why did you not reject him?” Suho asked, and Baekhyun tensed, bracing for the answer he was curious to hear.

“Should I?” She asked, a small smirk on her lips. She had power now, even if Suho was a coven leader, she had power now. In this moment.

“And what will you do then? Without an alliance with this coven, you will have to leave.” She told him, and there was a finality in her sentence.

“Where will you go?” She asked, and it almost came out mocking. Almost, but not quite, because it came out like a sincere question instead. She wanted to know. If this failed, what would they do. Honestly, Baekhyun himself did not know. And by Suho’s silence he figured their leader did not quite know himself.

“What’s your name?” Suho asked instead, and Baekhyun listened desperately, as the milliseconds stretched for an eternity before she answered.

“My name is Alethea.” She spoke, and Baekhyun could not give her a better name. The truth, she called herself, and she was right.

 -------------------

Moments later, the elders had ushered them to a separate room, Baek’s whole coven, since there was so few of them, her parents, her aunt and uncle and her two cousins, and the elders of Eleonora’s coven, settling everyone onto the cushioned sofas surrounding the small coffee table in the centre.

They had made sure that she and Baekhyun sat opposite each other. Still, when she caught his eyes, and he smiled at her a little shyly, she smiled lightly, but it never quite touched her eyes. Eleonora could feel his slight disappointment in the air, tasting the bitterness on her tongue.

She just could not concentrate on him right now. Not when the names of his coven rang through her head, as if they were announcing them all at once. The distance was gone, and the space was smaller, and what was murmurs before, were now similar in magnitude to a siren.

Finally, when the names stopped, and Eleonora realised that all the members of their covens had introduced themselves, she was able to focus.

The tall blonde man with large ears and an even larger smile had tried shaking her hand, but she moved away in shock, still a little dazed from the onslaught of sound inside her head.

Eleonora wanted to apologise, but she had realised that she did not know any of their names, at least not the ones they had introduced themselves as to her coven. She could not call the man Chanyeol. She could not call the man she was to marry Baekhyun. The only name she could use was Junmyeon’s because she had already heard him introduce himself and Baekhyun before.

Her father noticed the confusion in her eyes, and the uncertainly floating around her, and came to her rescue.

“Our Alethea is an Empath. This is such a small space she must have tuned it all out when she began feeling all your emotions.” He had explained, and Suho had a moment of realisation when he said that, looking at you with caring eyes. Eleonora could taste the good intentions on her tongue, like candy.

“Do you know our names?” He asked, and when she shook her head, he nodded, prodding his brothers to introduce themselves again.

“Is that why you are called truth? Because you can actually feel it?” Lay asked, and she shook her head.

“I can’t feel it.” She told him, and the look of confusion on his face prompted a laugh out of her.

“I can taste it.” She clarified, and all the members of Baekhyun’s coven leaned in closer, waiting for her to say something more. Baekhyun, she noted, looked the most interested, an encouraging smile on his lips, as his eyes shone brightly with wonder.

Eleonora could taste their curiosity. It tasted like apples. She never figured out why feelings tasted the way they did. She only knew why anger tasted like it did- of metal, the taste of blood, and love, which always tasted like apricot jam, because that was her favourite preserve, the one her mother always made.

“Your curiosity tastes like apples.” She told them, and the looks of confusion that crossed their faces made her smile, the taste of oranges bright on her tongue.

“What does happiness taste like?” Baekhyun had asked, and Eleonora met his eyes when she answered, looking right into the soft brown, drowning in them momentarily, before replying.

“It tastes like chocolate.”

Baekhyun laughed, happy with her answer, before their elders rushed them out, to another room, as they went on to discuss the conditions of the alliance.

 ------------------------

Eleonora sat next to Baekhyun, who had scooted so close to her on the sofa their knees were touching, and his shoulder bumped her own.

“You should tell me your name.” He told her, his warm breath fanning her face when he turned to look at her. She turned towards him, looking straight into his eyes. Eleonora had decided she liked their colour. And she liked the sound of his voice too.

So, since she decided she liked him, she also decided to tell him her name.

It was tradition after all, for the husband and wife to be, to tell each other their real names. It was an exchange of power and trust. To the witches, it was also an act of intimacy and vulnerability. It did not happen often, and not between just anyone.

She took a deep breath, averting her eyes from Baekhyun for a moment, before reconnecting them a second later. Her shoulders were tense, and her heart was beating a little faster. It was odd. She had always known the true names of those around her, but none but her family and the crone, knew hers. Telling her name to a stranger was a task she never had to perform before.

Baekhyun noticed the strain of her shoulders, he noticed the fear and uncertainty mixing in her eyes. Using one hand, he draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her a little closer, until their lips were almost touching, and there was no space between them on the couch. His body felt warm against her, and as if this moment could not have been any more intimate, Baekhyun had managed to make it even more so. She could feel his heartbeat on her shin, and she had no doubt that Baekhyun could feel her own, racing heart. Almost shyly, she took Baekhyun’s free hand, intertwining their fingers together, thankful for the reassuring squeeze he had given her.

“My name is Baekhyun.” He told her, and she could feel the way his lips curled around the name over her own.

“Baekhyun.” She murmured, knowing the name already, but still being a little fearful of it leaving her lips.

“Mhm.” He hummed, looking into her eyes, the soft look replaced with something more serious. He liked the way she said his name, like it was something familiar, like she already knew it. He looked into her green eyes, urging her to speak her own name.

“Eleonora.” She whispered, her name leaving her lips with confidence, and without further hesitations. Names were powerful, she thought, and she wielded all that power.

When her name left Baekhyun’s lips, she did not flinch, and when he moved away, allowing them both room to breathe, she did not look away.

“What does romantic love taste like?”  he asked, and she could taste it, faintly, the taste of oncoming feelings that have not yet settled, the foreshadowing of love that was yet to happen.

Eleonora licked her lips, before looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know yet.”

[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 03

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: none summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 5K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

At the peak of dawn, merely a sliver of burgundy illuminating the glass and metal giant, Choego indeed resembled a ghost town. There were no people around, not a single proof of living creatures without the buzzing of a city with cars and pedestrians. Even the flickering electricity disappeared from few sections of the town.

Park Jimin, older son of the Park Genetic Industries’ CEO, was so used to the nightlife of the capital city, he found the calm quietness way too eerie. It was surreal and unnatural and yet, he felt a pang of pride to be one of the first ones to explore its labyrinth. However, he found it rather embarrassing to compete with people who complained about having to wake up without enough of their beauty sleep. That said, he agreed with Jungkook on the missing girl’s case. It wasn’t the younger boy’s fault that Little Miss Perfect took too long to get ready. They were better off without her anyway. It was a competition after all and despite the importance of their team work, it wouldn’t have hurt to get rid off the weakest links. Born into a wealthy and prestigious family, Jimin had always known what he was expected to do: to reach for the stars and achieve more. So it was the perfect opportunity for him to show that he was worthy to be the heir of the company.

“Can someone explain in detail what the hell happened and why we had to leave the dorms?” Hoseok, one of his supposed-to-be roommates groaned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The group of eleven stood in the middle of the street packed with luggages, staring ahead of the road with dim artificial lights while the other end of the road disappeared into darkness. It was a good question because even though it was quite obvious to anybody that something happened, not everybody could figure out what exactly was wrong. What was the researchers’ plan with all this? Setting the beginning of the simulation in the middle of the night when they were supposed to be sleeping? What would have happened if nobody had woken up? Where were those damned cameras watching each of their moves? And what were they supposed to do without instructions?

“The electricity got cut off in the buildings next to ours and the following ones were those near our dorm building. I guess the simulation tries to imitate an evacuation,” the eldest boy, Seokjin, said and if he was any good in what he was majoring in, they could trust him.

“So we should get out of the city? That doesn’t make sense,” the lilac haired, quite temperamental Taehyung spoke up posing the question that had been on everybody’s mind. But if not out, then what were they supposed to do?

“Do you have any better idea?”

“Okay what about we all calm down and I call dr. Han?” Jimin suggested already fishing out his phone from his back pocket. He didn’t like to stay in the dark for too long. He needed answers and normally he had his own methods to get them. Money and power weren't nice things to take advantage of, yet why wouldn't he use his privilege when he could? 

While Namjoon murmured something like that they should be figuring it out by themselves, Jimin had already pressed call on the lady's contact and waited… fruitlessly as even the annoying beep sound remained silent. He double-checked the signal on his phone and let out a frustrated sigh at the sight of the saturated bars of the icon. “What the hell.”

His disappointed reaction didn't went unnoticed and Hoseok, who stood next to him, raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “What?”

“There’s no signal and no internet either in the area like we were totally cut off the outer world,” the boy answered, his fingers twitching to check his emails and social media despite knowing that without internet he wouldn't access anything for now. Even his mobile data was somehow disabled on this land which was ridiculous. What kind of test was it? Lexical knowledge was so outdated and old fashioned. Isn't their analytic thinking and resourcefulness should have been rewarded? However, not everybody agreed with him on this matter. Seokjin for example took the news with a short nod as if it was a known fact. He wasn't the only one.

“Well it’s only fair. They don’t want certain people asking for help from the outside,” Taehyung mumbled under his nose barely audible but certainly loud enough for Jimin to hear it.

“What are you trying to say?” the chaebol guy straightened his back trying to look intimidating as he strolled to the mocking boy of his age. It wasn't the first time he was judged because of his family's influence but this was one of the times the accusation left a nasty taste in his mouth like swallowing a bitter pill. Of course, he knew these people were often just envious of his background, so usually he didn't care about them but under the careful watching eyes of the miniature cameras and the surveillance of researchers reevaluating their every move, he wasn't willing to be ridiculed by somebody who had the manners of a caveman. No wonder why the guy had the strong dialect of Gyeongsang Province.

“Oh nothing. I’m just saying that it might be better this way. Equal chances for everyone,” Taehyung shrugged with a challenging look in his eyes.

Jimin's hands itched to punch him straight on the nose, wipe off that shit-eating grin off his face but he couldn't let himself lose his cool over the stupidity of a rival. As a marketing major, being an expert in manipulating people, maybe it was Taehyung’s ultimate goal from the beginning: to rile up and provoke everybody he could. He was nothing more than a kid with a big mouth from the countryside. Only bark, no bite, Jimin was sure and he was smarter than to play this game.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he stared down at the tanned guy - which was quite bold on his part being the shorter one. Then as arrogant as he could, he took a step back with a huff and turned his back on Taehyung. The others stared at their intermezzo expecting it to blow up and most of them seemed relieved, relaxing their tensed shoulders as they saw nothing extraordinary was going to happen under the dim lights of street lamps so early in the morning.

"Let's not argue, guys, we need to work together," Seokjin said in a parental voice which earned a few eyerolls on the youngers’ part. Even if according to the conservative Korean age system, it was polite and a must-do thing to respect their elders no matter what, Jimin didn't plan on playing the role of the perfect dongsaeng.

"But if we cannot leave the city, then what should we do during an evacuation simulation?" one of the girls with baby face spoke up and Jimin recognized her as the Psychology student from the introduction they did on their way to the dorms.

For a while, her question fell on deaf ears but her patience was rewarded with an answer after a whole minute of utter silence.

“We need to keep moving,” a dark haired figure said quietly but still bringing all the attention to himself. Min Yoongi, the mysterious postgrad student, majoring in some fancy named IT stuff, had a cold demeanor and he certainly didn't get on the good side of anyone present after boosting his own ego at the meeting. But if he was so smart, how could he not have any better idea than ‘to move’?

To be honest, Jimin eyed him quite suspiciously because unlike everybody else the guy barely had anything on him. He only threw a small backpack on one shoulder but nothing else which was stupid, wasn’t it? They didn’t knew how long they were going to be gone or what they would need, so his confidence was either recklessness or arrogance.

“Why?” Hoseok whined trying and failing to suppress a long whine. “Can’t we just stay here and rest a little? Not even the Sun is up.”

“Sure. If you came for having fun, be my guest. I won’t shed a tear when you won’t be one of the chosen candidates at the end of the test,” Taehyung said in a mocking tone and to his own dislike, even if he didn’t voice out his opinion, Jimin had to agree with him. They all came here with a purpose and if the researchers woke them up in the middle of the night, they must have had a good reason behind it.

“Oh you have a big mouth on you, don’t you? Then tell me what the fuck is happening because I’m quite sure you’re just as clueless as the rest of us, Mr. Know It All,” Hoseok had enough of being the clown everybody made fun of and told the younger guy off easily. He was right, kind of. They could only guess the cause, some better than others though.

“The technology behind it is pretty simple,” Jeon Jungkook spoke up in a low voice, almost shy but confident in his knowledge. Of course, he knew. Among all of them there had been three other engineers apart from Jimin whose bioengineering knowledge couldn’t help much in this case. However, this was the time for the others to shine. The chaebol boy hated it, the feeling of being useless and depending on others but he was also keen on cooperating if Jungkook had anything useful to say.

“And will you tell us, Golden Boy?” Taehyung crooked an eyebrow at him, voice sounding harsh and impatient.

“Normally complex security systems similar to this have a timer and every certain minute, it goes off in different sections of the place, so if we assume that the city has districts or any kind of separated areas with different electricity panels, they will turn off one by one. The dorm’s was the last one to go, so maybe where we are right now is the next one. Whoever is controlling this, they can easily guide us anywhere they want to unless we find a city map with the sections and their order to know it beforehand.”

After Jungkook’s explanation, Jimin hummed, considering. The whole situation reminded him of those old escape games he used to play on his father’s computer when he was little.

“What happens to the sections that got turned off?” he prompted.

It was time for Namjoon, majoring in mechanical engineering, to have his part of the conversation:

“Those sections are cut off electricity that’s for sure and since basically everything runs with electricity here, that can be pretty dangerous if you’re in a closed area like a building.”

“But they wouldn’t do anything that could possibly hurt us, right? The researchers don’t mean harm to us,” Joohyun’s lips quivered and she looked cold even in her light blazer pulled over the pretty blouse she wore. She seemed worried about Sooyoung being left behind but even the hypothesis was ridiculous. Who would dare to hurt them? Even if the simulation was discreetly kept as a secret from the country’s common netizens, the whole committee that chose them for these roles, knew about them. And their family - including Jimin’s influential father - were aware of their whereabouts and would never let anything like that happen. “It’s just a psychological test, right?” 

“I guess,” Seokjin nodded with a lazy shrug as his gaze wandered to his little sister. “They test our reactions, skills and boundaries. They want the five best, so they need to push us a little over the edge.”

“This isn’t the kind of test I signed up for to be honest,” Hoseok admitted while scratching his nape. He looked tired already and the day hadn’t even started yet.

“Well, it’s apparently too late to turn back and give up. Or maybe you can just chill out here and wait to see for yourself what happens when this section is switched off,” Taehyung snorted which was nothing new and Jimin realized fairly quickly that the marketing student cannot be trusted. He was obviously here to win, ready to step over anybody in his way.

They kept snickering in hushed voices but the chaebol guy had rather looked around than to pay attention to them. Maybe it was the early time or just the personality of the group’s other members but they were all uncharastically quiet. Wendy almost dozed off on his boyfriend's shoulder a bit, Joohyun and Seulgi stared ahead of them into the distance at the hundreds of glass buildings reflecting the amplitude of light. And there was the journalist girl, too young to even be there in Jimin’s humble opinion, walked around as if she was on a vacation in a museum and even took photos. She was lucky that her brother was with her or otherwise she would have been in quite a trouble without a chaperon. Too young and too naive to think nobody would notice her secretly snapping photos of the youngest engineering student.

Love has no place in a competition, they said and a part of Wendy agreed, sadly. If you were as ambitious as her, you were bound to lose something even if you won. Sure, she loved Namjoon, they had been dating for more than two years now after that fateful frat party at SNU, but she treasured her dreams more. Being here was a huge step towards becoming what she had always wanted to be: somebody in charge of big chances, helping people, being more than a cog in the system. She couldn’t let herself get distracted but at times like this, nerves tense and breathing shallow, she leaned onto her boyfriend.

Namjoon was a kind soul, a big softie who liked to think of everything in black and white. He could talk about the stars for hours and sometimes he lost track of his own train of thought. He built small robots in his free time and once when Wendy’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere, he drove all the way there and spent an hour single-handedly fixing the gears. But in spite of his huge love for physics and the theory of relativity, he loved Wendy more and they both knew it.

That was the root of all their problems. Wendy thought they were too young to settle down, they had time, a whole life ahead of them and she would have been willing to sacrifice a relationship for her career. On the other hand, Namjoon was a hopeless romantic claiming that she was the one for him and he would have given up everything for her.

This competition was a challenge for both of them. They were majoring in so different fields that their application didn’t endangered the other’s and heck, who would have thought that they both make it there? There was such a slight chance and yet, here they were, fighting for one of those five contracts. One for both of them which seemed even more impossible.

“You up?” a calloused hand nudged her shoulder gently and snapped her out of the crazy theories. Namjoon’s voice had always soothed the girl, so she was able to sigh content despite the circumstances.

“Yeah, just needed a breather. I wouldn’t have thought it’d be so hectic already.”

And it wasn’t even that bad. They have done nothing but wake up and leave the building as soon as it was possible. The most difficult part was to cooperate with others. A system’s weakest point was always the human variable.

Namjoon hummed, agreeing and for a few precious moments they could enjoy this soft bubble around them. It was a fragile little thing, bursting out with the first question thrown into the pit.

“What are we going to do now?”

It felt like the million dollar question in a game show and nobody knew the right answer, the one that they should have figured out, earning points by the researchers.

“I’d pay a visit to the main lab. They have lots of stuff there and maybe we will meet somebody there who can help,” Jimin suggested, fingers adjusting the hem of his Gucci shirt. Wendy had to stop herself from snorting. As if the researchers wanted them to seek help. She firmly believed that they were on their own because that would have made it the perfect trial. Trial of what? That was the good question actually.

“Good idea,” another guy supported the cause but the med student also had a reasonable suggestion:

“We need to find food and water, too. We never know when we need those,” she claimed and as the only medical assistance in the team, Wendy felt like she had to think of everybody’s wellbeing.

Maybe if she weren’t so stubborn and earnest, they would have all gone to the center in that instant, but she couldn’t bypass Joohyun’s nervous behaviour. The eldest girl had been pacing up and down like a lot of others not knowing what to do with themselves. However, unlike the others, she was looking around quite panicked, glancing backwards at the dark dorms on the other end of the street. It was enough for Wendy to take actions and pry herself out of Namjoon’s loving arms to rush to the other girl.

“Hey... what’s wrong?” she asked gently, a soft hand on the shoulder, massaging it with reassuring circles. Joohyun’s breathing became irregular and hasty as the panic settled deep in her bones.

“Insulin. I forgot to bring my insulin,” she replied and incoherently mumbled something about putting it into the common kitchen’s fridge the previous day. They still had hours until breakfast time when Joohyun would have to take the insulin shot before eating, but the thought of not having the medicine on her seemed enough to freak her out which made it worse.

“Oh no, why haven’t you told us before?” Wendy sucked in a breath with a little shake of her head. Of course, nobody would go around announcing to have diabetes since none of them had any idea something like this would happen. With one of her hands still rubbing on the shoulder blades of the other, Wendy raised the volume of her voice to call out to the whole team.“Guys, we need to go to the hospital. Joohyun needs medicine.”

“Fuck it, she can just go alone,” Taehyung growled unimpressed without even sparing a glance at the pale girl resembling an eerie ghost under the moonlight.

“Actually we should go. The hospital must have food in the canteen and if I remember correctly it’s not far from the researchers’ headquarters,” Seokjin stepped in to soothe the uptight nerves.

“It’s right next to it,” a soft, quiet voice supplied and a few heads snapped towards the girl with heart-shaped face and almond eyes. Kang Seulgi, as far as Wendy knew, had majored in architecture and was currently continuing her studies in environmentally-friendly architectural engineering. So at least nobody doubt her word.

“Okay, so you wanna split up? Or do we need to vote?” Seokjin who seemed to be good at managing the team work and handling conflicts looked around. Wendy admired him for his collected, calm words and the way he dealt with even the roughest reactions. He was great in damage control and without him they would have been struggling still to get out of a shutdown area. “Great so who doesn’t agree on going to the hospital for food and then checking out the lab?”

Not a single soul protested, not a single hand flew into the air.

In the end, without much commotion, all eleven of them started walking towards the general direction of downtown. Yet, without a map or GPS signal, it took them almost an hour  from the dorms in the residential area to collectively get to the canal dividing the island into two. From the shore at least they could already see the U-shaped building of the hospital and directly on its left, the prestigious building of the researchers.

“We’re here,” Namjoon breathed and pointed at the stocky, glass-walled building with the universal red positive sign of hospitals. Wendy who walked beside Joohyun to keep a careful eye on her looked up relieved.

“Thank god, I really need to pee,” Hoseok let out a sigh and despite the weight of his backpack and suitcase, he jogged ahead to search for a toilette in the building. The two-winged glass door opened as soon as he touched the control panel with his bracelet.

“Nobody wanted to know,” the med student murmured with an eye roll.

Each of them followed Hoseok without precaution into the hospital which was the first open building they found at the break of dawn. Even illuminated by the orange hues of the rising Sun, the city was still so lonely like an empty shell. They all wondered: where were the researchers? Have they gone home into their commonplace houses on the mainland? Or were they in a very different dorm, safe from the turned off electrical circuits? There was nothing like this in their schedule that was placed on their bunk beds. According to that, they had nothing to do until the meeting at nine o’clock.

Inside of the building, they split into smaller groups in search for the canteen, toilettes or just so they can drop off their heavy bags.

“Come on, let’s find insulin for you. Then we can eat,” Wendy nudged the older girl in the side and a slight discomfort settled in her throat as her boyfriend followed them.

“You don’t have to come with us,” she said sulkily like a child angry at their parents for sending a guardian even though they were old enough to be by themselves. That was exactly what she feared when both her and Namjoon’s application was accepted. She needed her own space, the alone time while the boy like physical closeness. He wasn’t touchy but he liked to be there with her even if it didn’t meant for her.

“I know, still I’d like to. But I won’t if you would prefer me not to,” Namjoon’s steps halted and Wendy immediately felt guilty as she looked at the sincerity on his handsome face and heard his genuine voice. She knew Namjoon would always agree to her terms if she voiced them out, but that became a burden after some time. Shouldn’t he have learnt that by now?

“Whatever,” she shrugged and didn’t turn around to watch her boyfriend’s smile fade as she walked towards the pharmacy of the hospital with Joohyun by her side.

Of course, it was closed, like everything normally at 5am, but they didn’t have time to wait for the opening time. Wendy’s empathy was greater than her sense of justice anyway, so she didn’t waste time to climb over the counter.

“What are you doing?” Joohyun questioned furrowing her neat eyebrows.

“Getting you insulin. I won’t wait and sit around. They want us to prove our resourcefulness. Here it is,” the girl flicked her red hair behind her shoulder.

On the shelves there were regular vitamins and medicines, nothing that needed prescription which was understandable. It wouldn’t have been wise to let those be out in the open for everyone to take. The med student’s eyes scanned through the names of the boxes but quickly realized she won’t find the insulin here. Gosh, how could she be so stupid?

“Don’t you see a fridge or freezer?” she asked Joohyun who eventually followed her suite. They were both looking at every corner they could until the psychology major squealed.

“Here.” She squatted down to the small refrigerator hidden under the counter. “It won’t open.”

And she was right. No matter how much they tried to move the metal door it didn’t nudge for god’s sake until…

“Wait!” Joohyun stopped suddenly, looking down at her wrist and the glimmering silver bracelet on it. Lightly she touched it to the small screen next to the fridge and waited. A few moments later the panel displayed Authorification accepted and the door opened with a beep.

Luckily, inside there was the desired insulin to both of their relief and they found syringe right on the next shelf. Injecting the serum was a piece of cake after all this.

“Thank you. Really,” Joohyun whispered, words a bit broken as she looked up at the dishevelled haired girl. Wendy, taken aback by the gesture amidst the supposed to be fierce competition, blinked dumbfounded at first.

“You’re welcome,” she nodded and hoped she wouldn’t have to regret helping her later.

Jimin grimaced at the pre-wrapped food in the hospital canteen. They had found a storage behind the empty stools that opened under the touch of their identifying bracelets but its content couldn’t satisfy the chaebol’s taste. Sure, he knew he wouldn’t get caviar or any other fancy food but sandwiches? Dry waffles and bottled banana milk? What was he, a freaking child?

He forced down a few bites of a ham sandwich just to fill his grumbling stomach with something but deep down he hoped that the evacuation test either ends soon or people start to fill the city with daylight and they can have a normal meal like they did yesterday evening. He had already finished when he saw the cyber tech guy stand up from one of the tables where he had eaten alone and wander down the hallways. It was suspicious enough for him to get up and follow him.

It took a few turns until he managed to catch up and since he wasn’t even trying to be subtle, he was certain Yoongi knew that he was being followed. Yet, the older guy didn’t question him nor he seemed surprised when Jimin spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi looked at him from under his dark lashes. 

“The main nurse desk or the offices. Somewhere in here there must be something about the evacuation plan. They also have to have extra generators and torches,” he said and it seemed so logical. Why hadn’t anyone else thought of that before? And why he didn’t tell anyone about his little plan? Did he intend on getting all the good points for himself?

“I can help,” Jimin offered not wanting to be left out and Yoongi gave him a stern glance. He looked a bit wary but sighed, giving in.

“Okay.”

The two guys followed the maps on the corners of the walls to find the main reception of nurses but looking through the closets, they couldn’t find anything useful. Only when they arrived to the camera control room on the sixth floor, did their pursuit turn out to be fruitful.

“Ah huh,” Jimin remarked as he pulled out a set of torches, batteries from one of the drawers. They also found a huge but not too detailed city map on the wall of which Yoongi took a photo of before he sat down in front of the computer. As soon as it booted up, a nice robotic female voice greeted them.

“Good morning, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin. How may I help you today?”

“How the-” the chaebol wanted to curse as he jumped back in surprise.

“Artificial intelligence, dumbass, we used the bracelets to get in, remember?” Yoongi groaned under his breath and then cleared his throat raising his eyes to the six black computer screens on the wall. “Uh... hello. Can you tell us the purpose of this simulation?”

“Keyword: simulation, purpose. Searching… One search result found within 0.563 seconds.” The computer decoded his question and a few moments later a video footage appeared on each monitor. It played a recording of them from yesterday when they talked to Miss Raina.

“Don’t forget, even though we evaluate you individually, you have to work together in teams to succeed the simulation. Any questions?”

“What is the simulation about exactly?”

“I can’t tell you, sorry. It would change your natural reactions and the results of our research would be false.”

Yoongi sighed.

“We already know that but...”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. There’s nothing more in the database that you can have access to,” the computer interrupted his protest in a calm, soothing voice but it couldn’t ease neither of them. Jimin’s jaw clenched as he watched the whole situation unfold, the still picture of the video of them on the screens.

“Great.”

“Can I help you with anything else?” the strangely real voice asked nicely and the IT guy didn’t even have to think about the next question.

“What’s happening in the city?”

“The main computer is shutting down the sectors one by one. But you have already known this, didn’t you, Min Yoongi? You graduated Computer Science on the top of your class a year ahead-”

“Enough,” said boy hissed and Jimin had to admit: it was scary, that this computer knew so much about them. It must have been in their files for the application but still… What else did it know? Did it have access to their social media, too? Because fuck, then he was screwed.

“Shutting down… Have a lovely day in Choego, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin!” the computer said goodbye because it interpreted Yoongi’s earlier harsh word as an order and just as he wanted to make it more clear (Hey, wait…!), the monitors’ screens changed to live video footage of different parts of the hospital. Currently it showed the others heading towards the eastern wing of the experimental labs in the basement.

“Shit.”

“What? What’s happening?” Jimin leaned closer confused because he didn’t see anything wrong. Yoongi typed on the computer so fast he could barely follow with his eyes.

“The lab room, they are going towards for god knows why, is specially guarded. It has some messed up defence system if they don’t have the right authorization,” Yoongi whispered and the chaebol couldn’t decide what was the scarier: the flashing red exclamation mark on a certain part of the screen or the tremble in the usually collected older guy’s voice. “We need to warn them.”

[ai-suru-hito-yo]

Waiting For Someone To Release Me (Pt 1.)

Pairing: one-sided Roger x Reader, John x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You met the boys of Queen while working at a pub during one of their gigs. You didn’t expect them all to be so ridiculously talented and attractive (of course that could simply be the fact you hadn’t seen any action in months talking) and you especially didn’t expect them to become a constant part of your life in any way.

Warnings: none really, alcohol (this part takes place in a pub), terrible summary, tags will change as the story progresses

A/N: I started writing this as part of @rogerina-deacon‘s 1k challenge, and y’all, she got away from me. I’m gonna have to post it in at least four parts, the second of which I should have up tomorrow (Saturday). Based on Christina Aguilera’s “Genie In A Bottle”, which is also where the title comes from. This first part is a little shorter, and is mostly just setting the scene. All mistakes are mine. Also, to all you Roger stans, I’m sorry. It gets better, and then it doesn’t. Fair warning, I’m gonna hurt him.

Part 2

———————————————————————————————————–

You were working to put yourself through college when you met the boys, a master at the oh so coveted position of server at an absolute dive of a pub, though you did have to admit the music scene there was great. The manager somehow had a knack for scheduling the best bands, though he himself had no music ability whatsoever, and this night was no exception.

There were two college bands lined up back-to-back, and since he claimed you had the most experience and were the most professional, your manager had insisted you help personally take care of the bands. Two others were chosen to help you with the task, and the three of you would spend the night being exclusive servers to the musicians.

The job could either be wonderful or terrible depending on the night and on the talent booked.

Your two helpers for the night, Colin and Rachel, had taken on the task of serving the larger, seven person group and left you with the smaller group, four lads who called themselves Queen.

You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the worst before making your way to the partially hidden booth at the back where Queen had set up camp for the evening.

“Hello, gents,” you called as you stepped up to the table. “My name is (Y/N) and I’ll be looking after you four exclusively tonight. If you need anything at all or have any questions or concerns, I’m your girl. Now to start, could I get you all some drinks, perhaps?”

The raven haired one to your immediate right spoke up first.

“Oh, perfect, darling. We’ll surely have a wonderful night! I’m Freddie, and I’ll have a vodka soda please, dear.”

Freddie was quite handsome and exotic looking. You noted something of an accent to his speech that indicated time spent far from this little corner of London.

“Coming right up, Freddie,” you replied with a little wink, which in turn caused a big grin to spread across the man’s face. He turned to the very tall man next to him and whispered what sounded like, “I like this one!” The man chuckled, his shoulders and his beautiful, dark curls bouncing. You watched as he turned his lovely smile toward you.

“I’ll have a glass of grapefruit juice, please. I don’t like to drink before shows. I’m Brian, by the way.”

“Lovely to meet you, Brian,” you responded. It truly was lovely to meet him, he was very polite and soft spoken. He intrigued you, like there was something much more to this gentle giant, something complex. Your gaze lingered on him perhaps a moment too long before you were brought back to earth.

“'Ere, love, what have you got on tap?” A high, raspy voice came from your immediate left, directly opposite Freddie. You turned toward the source and nearly did a double take.

Are all the members of this band ridiculously attractive? You thought to yourself. The man (for upon closer inspection, this creature definitely appeared male, if not entirely human) who looked up at you was breathtakingly beautiful. His features were even softer and more delicate than those of the other two men you had already spoken to. Waves of shining, blond hair framed a slim face from which huge, very round, sky-blue eyes stared at you. Eyes which looked you down and back up again. Ugh. Could he be any more obvious? One eyebrow was cocked and a smug smile pulled at one corner of the man’s mouth.

“Have you got any cheap pale ales?” The man’s nose even twitched when he spoke. How cute. You mentally shook yourself. Damn invasive thoughts.

“I’ve got Whitbread,” you suggested,

“Perfect, luvvie,” the man said, before shooting you another smirk and slipping his sunglasses back on. Why he needed them inside the dimly lit bar you did not know.

“That’s Roger,” Brian said. “The biggest ‘member’ of them all.”

“Oi! Watch it, Bri! I might have to–!”

“Okay, a Whitbread for Blondie!” you interrupted, sensing already that Roger might be a bit of a handful. Freddie clapped his hand together and laughed as Roger pouted. You ignored them and leaned a little closer to address the quietest member of the group. Once you got a good look, though, you felt your mouth go dry and suddenly felt like your throat was closing up.

The man sitting beside Roger was the most magnificent creature you had ever seen. He was somehow both cute and incredibly sexy as he leaned back casually, observing everything around him. The golden tawny mane that tumbled down the man’s shoulders looked soft and luxurious, and your fingers itched to reach out and touch. He had a strong nose which was perfectly rounded on the end and drew attention to the plush, pink pout of his lips. His green-grey eyes seemed to take in every detail, and when the met your own, you felt as if the man were staring into your soul.

“Uh,” you addressed the man eloquently.

“This is our dear bassist, John,” Freddie offered with a secretive smile. “He’s also our tech wizard and our financier.”

You finally recovered from your small crisis and flashed Freddie a soft smile before turning your attention back to John.

“A Jack of all trades, I see. Well, what about you, love? Would you like a drink?”

“I’ll have three fingers of whiskey. Whatever is cheap will be fine, please and thank you.”

John’s accent hinted at a northern heritage, and his voice was immediately calming to you. He was just as polite as Brian, and you already felt yourself swooning.

“Coming right up, John,” you said with a soft smile, and with one more glance at the man, you turned to make your way back to the bar.

As your poured the drinks, you eyed up the whiskey shelf, weighing your options. Someone who drinks plain whiskey must drink it because they like the taste of it, however John had ordered something cheap, so you reasoned he must be on a budget. You quickly grab one of the top shelf bottles and pour out the desired amount. As you add it to their tab under the price of the pub’s cheapest variety, you told yourself you were simply providing good service and placed it on your tray between Brian’s juice and Roger’s cheap ale.

———————————————————————————————————–

The rest of the night passed smoothly, the bar was packed to the breaking point with patrons come to hear the live music, but thankfully no one decided to start any conversations with their fists, and it seemed no one had been sick on the floor, as had happened the past two times you had worked a live show night. Both bands played wonderfully, and except for a small sound problem, which John fixed in about five minutes, the performances went very smoothly.

You found you really liked Queen, they were one of the better bands you had seen perform in your time at this particular pub, and they seemed to have real potential.

Freddie’s voice was clearly very special, powerful and unique to anyone you had heard before. You could tell he was also a very capable pianist.

Brian was a sorcerer on his guitar, able to create sounds you had never heard before, sustain solos you thought would never end, looking like some ethereal creature under the stage lights while making it all look effortless.

Even Roger, you had to admit, left you cheering. You were very impressed by his speed on the drums, moving faster than any drummer you had seen before and creating strong, solid beats for the other three to follow. His voice was also very special. Halfway through one song, you could not seem to recall the name of it, he let out a high, sustained screech that you originally thought came from a distressed patron. When the crowd started cheering instead, you looked to the stage to see Roger eating up the attention. You paid closer attention after that and soon realized the man had an amazing falsetto voice, and could hit notes you had once thought only dogs cold hear.

You were not really sure what to think of John for most of the night. You did not see him sing much, if at all, and he stayed back from the crowd at first. You thought he seemed very shy and nervous which you thought was strange for a member of a rock band. Around halfway through their set, Queen played their longest song of the night, a song Freddie introduced as “Liar”. The song seemed to instill some confidence in John, for soon he started dancing around in place and appeared to enjoy the music more. There came a call and response portion toward the middle, and you found you could truly not look away. Freddie leaned back against John as they shared a microphone and the crowd went wild. You thought you could even hear a few people shouting the words back at the appropriate times. They were captivating, and it was clear to you that John did know haw to work a crowd, even if he was too shy to actually do it. Then came his solo. You watched closely as John went wild, strumming hard and fast, and you felt your mouth go dry again watching his rather large hands coax such raw sound from his bass guitar. You cheered along with the crowd as John executed a slide that sent shivers down your spine. He caught your eye and smirked, and for the rest of the night, John was unstoppable. He danced around the stage, and occasionally jumped up to the drum riser to reconnect with Roger. Together they were clearly a powerhouse, a strong and stable foundation to build upon.

The band had just left the stage and you were making your way back to them to check in and tell them you loved their performance when you thought you heard someone shout your name from across the pub. You turned toward where you thought it had come from, but did not see any familiar faces, only people chatting among themselves and gearing up to move along home for the night. You shrugged it off and made your way to the table where you could see Freddie still clearly hyped up on the adrenaline of performing.

“Hello again, gents,” you said as you approached, trying to reign in your excitement for them and remain as professional as possible. “Just checking in again, can I get you anything else?”

“(Y/N)! Dear how was it? Did you enjoy the show?” Freddie was bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of you, skin and hair still glistening with sweat, a bright, almost manic glimmer in his eyes. “Honestly, please tell me honestly, did you like us?”

“Freddie, yes!” you answered with a laugh. “Queen is wonderful. Really, you are! I’ve seen a lot of bands come through here, a lot of really good bands, but you lot are really something else. I was captivated by each of you from the first note.”

Freddie screamed before grabbing you around the shoulders and smashing you against his chest in a bone-crushing hug. It was a little gross, as he was so sweaty and it had soaked through his stage costume, but you still brought your arms up and returned the embrace. You were finding you liked Freddie more and more as the night wore on.

“Alright, Fred, give the poor thing room to breathe!” came Brian’s voice. “I’m sure (Y/N) would like to go home and not have to nurse any cracked ribs.” Freddie gave you one last squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek before letting you go and turning to pack up his own gear. “Please forgive him. He’s like a puppy sometimes, he gets way too excited after a show, especially with a good crowd like this.”

“It helps that they had great music to respond to. I mean it truly, Queen is great. You’d have to be dead not to be moved by at least one of your songs.”

Brian laughed at that, shoulders and curls shaking once again, and said, “Well, thank you for such honest and…creative approval.”

“You’re welcome! Now really, is there anything I can get for you gents? Perhaps one more drink to toast a great show?”

“I’ll take another drink and your number,” came that now familiar, raspy voice. You turned around to see Roger, already changed out of his stage clothes, approaching you with a smug look on his face. He was actually a good bit taller than you originally thought he was. Perhaps it was a trick of perception, with him sitting behind the drums for the last hour, your subconscious just assumed he would be significantly shorter than his band mates.

“Seriously, Rog?” Brian cut in before you could answer. “Cool it, eh? (Y/N)’s on the clock.”

Roger opened his mouth to argue, but you cut across him. “I’ll go grab those drinks, eh?”

“Only if you’ll have one with us!” Freddie called to you. “Please?”

You sighed. You really should refrain from drinking on the job, but you were also assigned to take care of Queen and see to any doable request they may have. You figured one little drink would be fine.

“Oh all right, Freddie,” you answered, shaking your head. “Same for everyone?”

“Perfect, darling!”

“Make mine a lager, please? I’d like something a little stronger now, post show.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Yes, please,” came a voice you had not heard since before the show started. John was watching from where he had a long, rectangular case, which you assumed held his guitar, tipped against a wall next to what looked like a plain-looking cabinet speaker. “I’ll come help you.”

“Okay,” you said with a small smile. He gave you a pointed look, and you knew he could tell you had been giving him one of the better quality liquors and passing it of as bottom shelf. “Thank you, John.”

You turned back toward the bar and felt rather than heard John follow closely behind you. He sat on a stool at the end of the bar while you ducked behind the counter, fixing everyone’s drinks and finding one for yourself.

“So did you really like it?” John asked suddenly, his finger tracing through a ring of condensation left behind on the bar. He glanced up at you from beneath his long eyelashes before he looked back down to the moisture on the dark wood. Seeing the confused look on your face, he added, “The show. Did you really like our music that much?”

“Oh! Yes!” you said, putting your drink pouring on hold to lean against the bar in front of him. “I meant every word I said. I truly think you four have a lot of potential and I cannot wait to see what Queen becomes. You really blew me away with that solo of yours, John. I was truly captivated.”

John looked up at you and smiled then, and in that moment, you knew you were in trouble. The way his eyes crinkled around the edges sent your heart aflutter, and you were certain the little gap between his perfect front teeth was the cutest thing you had ever seen. You knew you had to see him again, and were just about to ask when and where their next show was when a familiar voice boomed down the bar at you, making your skin crawl.

“Oi! What’s it take for a real man to get service around here, eh?!”

Your eyes widened as you turned, horrified, to face your absolute prick of an ex boyfriend.

[blankdblank]

My Pearl Pt 7

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 -

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars,  @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor, @thestorybookmistress, @abiwim, @here2have-fun, @onewithleaf

…

A loud chime filled the air making you groan and follow the warm Dwarf blindly in his roll over and reach for the alarm. A deep chuckle came from him as your arms circled his head while yours nuzzled against his while your body eased across his seeking his warmth. In a growling hum he stated, “As much as I would love to stay in bed-..”

With a groan from you he chuckled again, “I know,” you sighed, “I know. Your show.” Another groan later he grinned watching as you slid across him to find your feet, easily he shifted his feet onto the ground as he turned and sat up eyeing your large tank top falling over your panties. Up on his feet he followed you into your bath as you turned the shower on, as you undid your braid he helped you out of your tank top and stole a warm kiss.

His lips left yours as he purred against your lips, “How can I make up the early alarm to you?” Helping to strip you of your final layers and his before lifting and wrapping you around his middle carrying you into the shower muffling your giggles as his lips planted on yours again.

.

In your usual black jeans and tank top you eyed your blouses and groaned mumbling, “Going to be under my other shirt, why does it matter…”

In your closet doorway you caught Thorin rolling up his second sleeve on his cobalt blue button down shirt over his black slacks, “You should pick the peach, all the pictures I’ve seen of your Gran she’s in a peach blouse.”

A grin eased across your lips, “Is that part of my appeal then?”

With a deep chuckle he purred back, “People will make comparisons no doubt since you’ve been outed, might as well beat them to it.”

Blouse in hand you watched him grab your sneakers as you eased the blouse on and started to button it. After adding your sneakers you tucked your blouse in on the path to the kitchen for the scramble Thorin had left in the slow cooker over night. At your side he chuckled and snuggled around you kissing your cheek and neck, “Please don’t be worried.”

You locked your eyes with his, “That depends entirely on what dishes I’ll be helping you tweak today.”

A smirk eased on his lips, “Dearest, you’re on dessert today.”

With a brow raised you asked, “Seriously?”

He nodded and kissed your cheek again purring, “If anything before you Celeborn would have taken us down with his Gawl dessert.”

Your brows furrowed, “Gawl?”

He nodded, “It’s this mixture of desserts in one cake with, what is supposed to be a flower on top.”

Your lips parted “Glawar?” he nodded and smirked as you giggled, “He’s making Glawar?!”

Again Thorin nodded with an amused grin asking, “Why is that funny? He’s the only one that can make it.”

You giggled again, “Not very well I imagine without the recipe, it was my Grans and mine.” He raised a brow, “She only served it publicly three times, two times he was at the table with a notebook.”

Thorin let out a laugh and looked at you with another of his amused adoring smiles, “No doubt one of the recipe’s you’ve memorized.”

You giggled stating, “It was a collaboration, we both made it. He was so busy watching her-..”

“He missed your half.” You nodded and stole a kiss from him through another giggle, “Let’s get to the show. I’ve got the dishes on cards you can give us some tips, since our judges will be half Elven today.”

“Who?”

“Um, Gil-Galad, Turgon and Beleg. Contrasting our Dwarven Grond, Bene and Mene.”

“Hmm.” He glanced at you and you caught his eye shaking your head, “No, just, last time I saw Turgon he was teaching at Hillcrest.”

He smirked, “Oh this is going to be quite a show.” Making you giggle again. “Bet he has some stories.”

You rolled your eyes, “All his stories are entirely biased and one sided.”

Thorin laughed and glanced at you again, “Oh you are definitely sharing those stories.”

.

Through the large studio after you eyed the lines of sports cars in the guest spots you tilted your head making your braided looped bun back over your shoulder as your hand was folded in Thorin’s for the short walk inside. A few halls later past the grinning Dam behind the large counter you passed through the infamous blue metal door parting you from the arena housing the double kitchen. On one side you eyed the group of Elves, Celeborn facing away from you with his Grandchildren and his young apprentice Haldir around him nodding at his instructions. The main tug of this show is the five positions allowed for the teams for the four course meal you had to pull together.

Heading yours was clearly Thorin, and where Bofur usually handled the Desserts you had taken that place granting him the day off, adding you to the team Fili, Kili and Dwalin were filling the final slots to. In the distance your eyes turned to Dwalin, who looked a bit rough for wear in your corner. Meeting up with the team you giggled when you spotted the hickeys around Dwalin’s collarbone exposed in his low cut shirt making him say to Thorin at his raised brow, “I actually did sleep. Just, in shifts.”

Thorin nodded through a growing smirk, “I take it Bilbo loved the pens?”

Dwalin gave a deep throated chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck gritting out, “There’s bairns present Thorin.” Making Thorin chuckle again.

Fili looked you over and drew out the cards for the recipes while Kili asked with lashes batting your way over a deep pleading grin, “So what tips do you have for us Auntie?”

With a giggle you wet your lips eyeing the cards then pointed to a few items giving notes Fili copied down while Thorin’s brows furrowed curious what you meant by the Valinorian basting technique you mentioned for the fish in the first round. As you made it to the picture of the version of your Gran’s Glawar dessert you covered your face trying not to giggle at the poor version you were surprised you hadn’t seen before in any of his cookbooks he’d put out before, assuming it was a recipe he’d been working on for centuries. Your conference died at the opening of the blue door again bringing Dain, the Host for the show with the Judges behind him that all scanned their eyes over both groups but lingered on you as you added your chef’s coat on their way to their starting positions on the platform behind Dain.

Between the kitchens the main camera lowered to center on Dain as he double checked his mic and fixed his tie through the opening of the curtains revealing the cheering arena around you all pointing out their favorites on the stage in the final few moments until the red light kicked on.

With a grin Dain raised his mic, “Welcome to Durin’s Bane, hosted by me, Dain Ironfoot. This week our defending Chef, first to achieve a single crown in the line of Durin, Thorin Oakenshield will be facing off against our Challenger Celeborn holder of a Silmaril and a half.” After a pause for a scan of the cameras over your teams while you approached your stations then shifted to Dain again. “Now our teams have been assembled and this week is a much harder challenge for our home team as our Challenging Chef has chosen to bring out some Valinorian recipes that no doubt will be appeasing the tastes of our Valinorian Judges. The time is on the clock and let’s see what our Chef’s can do!”

The camera scanned over you all as the teams sprung into action while Dain started to fill the audience in on the fish dish before filling he audience in on the different Judges. “We’ll start with our home team of Judges.”

Beside him stood a pair of twins, both with fiery buns and braided beards grinning proudly, “Bene and Mene from the Blue Mountains, owners of a restaurant in Blue Mountains called BroadFire. Between them they have earned 1 Anvil, 2 crowns.”

On their right was a blonde haired Dwarf with a long ponytail resting under his pirate ship shaped hat, with his beard twisted up into a bun with eight smaller beaded braids resembling an octopus in this week’s weird shape he’d worked it into. He gave a wink as Dain stated, “Grond from Orcarni, former Professor at Orcarni Prep. With a Bakery in Orcarni named Hao that has earned 2 Anvils/crowns.”

Now our Guest Judges.

From left to right he started with the tall dark haired serious chef, “Gil-Galad from Sirion, has a restaurant in Lindon called Rodnor, with 1 Sil under his belt.”

Beside him was a taller blonde giving a brief nod and a hint of a smile, “Turgon from Gondolin. Owner of a bakery called Turukano with half a Sil to his name.”

Lastly was the grinning blonde a bit shorter and younger than the others, “Beleg from Doriath. Owner of a catering service called Dailir. Younger than the senior Chefs before him but still swung 2 Sils in his short time since his studies.”

In a turn he went through each asking what they were all looking for in this first dish before they all split up into groups to inspect the teams in their opening choices for the dishes. A single glance from Thorin later he watched, as per his request, you began on the marinade for the fish Thorin was starting to descale and debone. Lowly beside you as he got the pair of fish ready for slicing he asked when your eyes met his, “You said the Valinorian basting technique?”

You nodded glancing at the fish as he raised out and laid in the fresh pan, “Easiest way I learned it is saying, ‘head to feet, cheek to cheek for sweeter meat’.”

His brows furrowed as he turned his head to face you for a moment with a playful grin, “Head to feet?”

You let out a sigh, “It makes more sense in Doriathian. A play on words.” He raised a brow and you sighed mumbling, “Don’t make me say it.” His brow inched higher as he flipped the fish over to get the rest of the meat making you roll your eyes and peer at your mixture you were stirring in the pan. Lowly in Doriathian you recited the saying again only to hear a snort from behind you coming from Gil-Galad behind his hands that clasped over his face while Turgon let out a string of loud laughs the audience as well as the Elven team across from you laughed at loudly making the Dwarves look at you while you raised the pan and carried it over to Thorin’s pan spooning the sauce lengthwise before adding more sideways in zigzags. “It’s gibberish in Silvan. ‘Leaf, sweet, cow, cow, orange feet.’ Throw it in the oven, five minutes left add another spoonful. Worse in Quenya.”

With a low chuckle he nodded following your instructions and moved onto his next item on the list while Beleg snuck a taste of your marinade and smirked while Turgon turned to you as you helped to finish the skinning and dicing of the potatoes. Animatedly he stated, “You! You’re the one who set my kitchen on fire!”

Your eyes rose as Dain slid over to you with a growing grin enjoying the added drama this episode, “That was not my fault!” Your peeler pointed at him for a moment, “Turin was the one who made that exploding pepper soufflé!”

Dain chuckled asking, “How would that set off a fire?”

You glanced at the host explaining while their eyes turned to the knife in your hands in the simple eight slide dicing technique before you moved on to the next potato to peel, “I was candying with some rum and his soufflé exploded, I sneezed and dropped the bottle and pan on the burner and it really wasn’t that bad.” Turgon chuckled deeply, “One set of towels doesn’t count as burning down your kitchen!”

He chuckled again and nodded, “True, but I will say it was always interesting having you in my classes were far from boring.” You smirked moving to add your dicings into the pan Fili had added another set of sauces and veggies into. Behind Dwalin you claimed his knife and passed him another along with a pan for his treatment of the asparagus in the recipe.

While the Elves looped around to inspect the other team chuckling as they looked you over in your challenging gaze through Dain stating to the camera, “For those of you not knowing, we have, yet another, legacy on the home team. Jaqiearae Pear II, named after her famous Grandmother, one of the few famed female Elven chefs from the First Age and the only Elf to ever acquire five Sils. In her own right our new addition is a ground breaker on her own, the fourth female out of five to be accepted into Hillcrest Academy formerly in Gondolin before its destruction, and the first Elf accepted into Orcarni Prep. Not even mentioning, at the ripe old age of 43 managed to acquire an honorary Sil of her own.” 

He grinned then glanced over at the Elven team, “No doubt our home teams chance at a fresh Elven twist to our classic dishes evening the playing field on this show between her shifts in the Stone.” Peering over at his Cousin Thorin he smirked stating, “For some the smell of fish might be a bit overpowering but,” he leaned in after a slide to arch against Thorin’s shoulder, “All I can smell is the blossoming love in the air.”

Thorin chuckled shaking his head then turned from his bacon he was cooking smirk at Dain, “This is a cooking show.”

Dain nodded, “Of course,” holding a mock serious expression before melting into a playful smirk as he wiggled his brows at Thorin, “The universal language of romance.” He added in a slide away before he went to tease the Elves while Thorin stole a glance at you in your helping Kili with mixing the sauce for the veggies through sharing fuller tips for the sauce for the next round you’d be distracted through.

The time was running down and the plating began with you standing by Dwalin’s side through Thorin and Kili perfecting the dishes through Fili shifting the completed ones to the tasting area. Notes were taken down as Dain stated once the men all swapped out the dirty pans and utensils for fresh ones while you stood at the formerly empty baking station, “Now that the second round had started the baking can begin, and it seems our dazzling legacy is facing off against our Challenging Chef.”

While the men went through the recipe you started raising brows from the Judges at your move to grab some white chocolate you melted into a baking tray and added cherry extract. Instantly Celeborn froze watching what you were doing, trying to figure out what part of the dessert that went on only to turn back to his own station when you slid it into the freezer after adding swirls with a toothpick. Next you started on the cake batter, again drawing the eyes of the Elven Judges, who all peered at the cards with the image of the dessert recently added to Celeborn’s menu in the White Lady back in Lothlorien. Right off you were mixing devil’s food cake where he was mixing dark chocolate.

A trio of rectangular pans were filled with the second one you added a muffin tin to drawing a clearly irritated groan from Celeborn drawing smirks from your team and the Dwarves in the audience and home Judging trio when you slid them into the preheated oven. Beleg, as you started on some caramel, leaned in to ask watching the few drops of mint extract you added making him smirk, “I take it we are seeing the true recipe from your Grandmother coming to life before us?”

You nodded through a weak giggle while Dain stated over by Celeborn, “No worries, I am certain you’ll be able to compare your recipes and techniques after the final round.”

When your caramel was done your head turned to Thorin, who was uncertain if he should take the roast out just yet, a shake of your head answered his question and let him turned back to the gravy while Dwalin finished the mash and Fili and Kili started on the boiled then blended veggies to be spread over the toasted bread under the mash and slim slices of the tender roast. 

Setting your caramel aside you pulled out your cakes to cool while you started adding chocolate into a bowl along with a few more ingredients the cameras and judges none were able to spot before you joined Celeborn in walking around the rest of your team to taste the sauces and gravies stirring the bowls. Where others would mix the bowl over a boiling pan of water eyes turned to the metal bowls in your hands cameras from above filmed melting slowly between your steady mixtures. The trick resting in your shared Doriathian trait of being able to control elements adding to the precise forming of the rare dessert.

Steadily the mixture melted and formed the right consistency as you slowly chilled it thickening it as you folded it with your wooden spatulas. While the final dish was being served up you and Celeborn were allowed to continue, you layered the caramel between the layers willing it to cool before smoothing a layer of caramel in the dips in the top layer you then filled with the molten mixture. Another coating of caramel sat between the second and top layer sealing in the heat as you turned to the final additions, a mixture of deep brown ganache and melted white chocolate you mixed with a few ingredients turning it a pale golden color in a matching set of pans. In the final stage your team grouped on the platform on the stools set up for them watching your entranced gaze and knowing movements filling the final section of time.

On the top you drained the ganache and golden chocolate in diagonal stripes, just barely as it neared hardening you grabbed a whisk and a toothpick tapping the whisk in then swirling extra loops through the lines forming golden lotus blossoms scattered across the top with woven swirls between appearing to be waves shimmering golden in the setting sun. 

The final touches was your forgotten white chocolate cherry swirled now frozen mixture. Easily you snapped off pieces and grabbed a match, a swipe later you lit the tops of the slivers you poked into the center of each blossom. Discarding the match you blew out the men and audience watching the big screen above on your half as it melted slowly filling the petals you had drawn in a soft pink while you mixed up a simple cherry drizzle to add a couple finishing touches around the border.

On smell alone the Judges and Chefs would have awarded yours right out not even mentioning the stunning appearance. Carefully you set the dishes before the Judges, who all joined in the Chefs in snapping comparison pictures before awed gasps came from both sides while slices were taken of each at the slices and oozing molten filling combining with all the other flavors. First his was tasted with pleased hums while they took down notes only to have their hums and near moans deepen forcing them all to cover their mouths in embarrassment. The differences were clear leaving a staggering gap in taste and quality against the best attempt to imitate the famed dish.

While the final tallies were taken you joined the Dwarves in sampling Celeborn’s dish only to have him and his own slice of yours, he growled nearly at his apprentice Haldir to keep it all for himself in his shuffling closer to your side. Between bites you gave him a few simple tips to improve upon the already great imitation nearly making the rest of the team members to their knees while they finished it off. With a grin he accepted the sheet you had written the notes on while tasting the final bits of the slice then asked accepting it, “This isn’t all of it.”

You shook your head smirking up at him, “I’m not going to give you all of it. You can figure it out.”

He sighed, “I’ve spent four centuries trying to get this far.”

You giggled and turned to join your team finishing the last of your own slice of his cake at Dwalin’s side through the teams readying for the final verdict. One that really mattered little when the after competition group pictures hit the internet. If you hadn’t been viral yet online in the Elven world the images and show, which aired the following day solidified it officially bringing up memories, stories and the rebirth of the Elven cries for you to put out a recipe book for the great dishes only linked to your bloodline.

…

Over the phone details for the show were being traded to the Durins who missed it through your fixing a meal for you both in Thorin’s kitchen. The smells drew him into the kitchen where he smirked in your completing the meal you set on the counter then passed Thorin a glass of whiskey. With a spreading grin he lowered his glass from his sip when your fingers looped in his belt to tug him to the waiting stool. All through the meal he sat on the phone, then sat rubbing his forehead after slumping into the couch, barely able to give you a grin in the brief stop you took to refill his glass and turn to leave the room heading out of his view.

A second glance your way at what he believed to be a plate with chocolate covered fruit turned his head before he sighed at his family passing the phone to yet another member. Raising his glass he couldn’t help but smirk at the chocolate coated cherry floating in his whiskey drew a rough response from him, “I have to go. Ready to drop.” He ended the call and chuckled lowering to grab each piece of clothing leaving a trail to his bed, where you were draped across it in his favorite pair of lingerie teasingly taking a bite of a chocolate coated slice of melon on his approach. 

Chuckling lowly he set the phone and glass on the table after eating the cherry in his drink. Gently he lowered to stretch out behind you and parted his lips for the next piece you fed him through his fingers slowly gliding over your skin shifting into a full body massage ending with him drawing you against his chest after you had helped him out of his shirt and pants.

Flat against the piles of pillows you traded turns stealing kisses while he shared all the details of the phone call. The opening of his front door and heavy footfalls caused him to grip one of his furs he draped over you both protectively then folded his arms over your back until Dwalin entered the doorway. With an irritated huff he scowled at the pair of you holding up a reservation card then growled out, “He got us a table at the Green Dragon!”

Thorin smirked stating, “You love the Green Dragon.”

Dwalin crossed to the bed and sat down making you both bounce then settle again while he grabbed the plate and ate a piece from it, “And he knows it!”

Thorin chuckled as you folded your arms over Thorin’s chest you rested your head on, “The problem then?”

Dwalin turned to him, “He booked it for the New Moon Festival! You know what happens at the New Moon Festival! He booked us a room at the Brandywine! I checked the receipts, he got us the penthouse! On the New Moon they have that firework display! You know the one!”

Thorin nodded, “Ah, yes, the one with the honeymoon heart option complete with lovers initials.” You giggled as Thorin crooned stealing another piece of fruit, “Bilbo sure knows how to court a Dwarf.”

Dwalin growled lowly stealing another piece as Thorin popped his between his lips. “You’re not helping! I need to up my plans, he’s trying to be crafty. The new book set won’t be in for another week, and the vest set the week after that.” His eyes shifted to you with a pleading gaze, “You must have some idea.”

“Have you tried the planetarium?”

Dwalin huffed, “Already tried that.”

With a smirk, “Have you tried the Meteor Lounge?”

Dwalin raised a brow shaking his head, “Even we can’t get a table there.”

With a smirk you held out your hand, “Can I borrow your phone?”

He nodded passing you the cell phone he unlocked as you stated, “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower next weekend with Luthien’s comet passing over Raven Hill, right over the Meteor Lounge.” After typing the number you raised the phone to your ear and started speaking in a cheerful tone in fluid Gondorian then gave Dwalin’s name and hung up telling him, “Saturday 9pm, give your name, you’ll be in the blue table.”

Thorin’s lips parted, “Isn’t the blue table in the back room?”

You nodded with a grin as Dwalin asked, “How-?”

You let out a weak giggle, “The cleaning crew I worked on, picked up a double shift once got to work in the Planetarium, ran into an old friend from Gondor after Orcarni, did him a favor he manages there, promised me a table when I needed it.”

Dwalin glanced between you both, “I can’t steal your table.”

With a smirk you replied, “I’ve eaten there. He managed to convince the owner to give him a table for the night, brought me, tried to make it into a date.”

Thorin rumbled out in amusement, “Tried?”

You nodded and giggled, “His Son got sick, we ended up spending the night in the er after barely getting through the first course.”

Dwalin, “What happened after?”

“Um, I got sucked back into work and his ex came back around ready to work things out. He felt bad and promised me a sort of lifetime thing.”

Dwalin, “You like him?”

You shrugged, “We only met the twice. He did know a lot about blenders, surprisingly enough.” Making the pair chuckle. “I still get emails from his Son though, actually almost went to prom with him, well, he asked and I said I’d have to get time off, he snagged a picture of me that his crush happened to see and he found himself getting asked instead. They, are now married and have a three year old boy.”

Dwalin grinned then stood straightening his shirt claiming another piece of fruit then grinned saying, “I am going to go home and get the suit I bought my Snuggle Bunny out of the closet to press for our date.”

You giggled stating, “I should have the reservation card by our shift tomorrow.”

His grin grew, “Oh he is never going to top this.” He mumbled to himself, “Now I just have to find out how to sneak the boar figurine down from the attic before bringing up the date…” The door closed and locked behind him.

Through a low purr against your ear, “Are there any other romantic spots your exes have taken you to?”

Playfully you asked gliding your fingers through his beard and hair, “Define exes and what you would consider romantic.” A giggle came from you as he moved the fruit to the night stand and rolled you over planting his lips on yours through a challenging growl. Warmly his body folded around yours in the deepening kiss urging you to cling to him in return the opening of his door again broke you apart and made him cover the both of you in his roll onto your back laying above you. Under the furs your arms smoothed over his chest when Bofur raced through the door with a wide grin, “Bella’s in labor!”

Your lips parted as Thorin chuckled, “That’s great news!”

Bofur nodded then chuckled turning glancing through the doorway anxiously then added, “Well, just had to tell you, the guys are telling the others. His eyes switched to you, “No need to worry none Jaqi, this’ll be her and Bombur’s 14th bairn. We’ll send out word when the bairn arrives, shouldn’t be long now, and you can drop by in the morning, just four houses down.” His grin deepened as he slid out of the room chuckling to himself, “As you were.”

Thorin rolled his eyes turning over, “No doubt there will be wagers on us within the hour.” Gingerly he folded your legs around him again.

“Don’t you need to go?”

Thorin chuckled, purring lowly, “Last time anyone other than Bombr was in the room she threw a fit. Her births only last a few hours at most since her first. Trust me, she prefers our old ways of sharing birth only with her spouse.” In a lowering growl of a purr he eased his lips right along your jaw, “Now, I believe you asked me what I considered romantic.” 

Warmly his lips met your skin and did not leave for hours after until a text came in on Thorin’s phone as you slept beside him. The image of the little bundled Pebble with dark hair only drew his eyes back to you while he ignored the group message listing the first string of dates for a small list of things starting with when Thorin would cave and give you the Patron dissolution papers.

The greatest debated topic was when he would start to assemble the first of the courting markers, ending with the specifications of the ring he would propose with, fully knowing he’d already begun to design it. Leaving his phone aside he rolled and folded around you again grinning at your hand finding his and drawing it closer to your chest only adding to his hopes you had truly begun to care deeply for him already while he shut his eyes unable to keep from picturing your future together.

Pt 8

[angelstrenchcoat-67]

You and I

Pairing: Stanford!Sam x Reader

Warning: None I think, a little angst

Series Summary: It wasn't easy for Sam to decide he wanted to leave his hunting life behind, to leave Dean behind. But when he saw the Stanford acceptance letter, he knew he couldn't stay back. And he knew he wasn't going to be alone.

PART 3 

"Oh sorry, I thought you would be in bed by now" Jess holds her hand against her mouth to cover her giggles. I look back at her only to see Sam standing behind her with a smile that doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

"We are still up, unfortunately" I give her a sarcastic smile before Leila elbows me slightly. "I mean, we just got caught up watching movies"

"Can we join?" She asks us, reaching for Sam's hand to walk with him over to the couch.

"We are in the middle of the movie and you are not going to understand it" I answer as nice as possible but the pinch Leila gives me tells me otherwise.

"Feel free to join us" Leila gives me a stern look before smiling to Jess.

"I'll get more popcorn" Before anyone can protest, I jump out of the couch to walk to the kitchen. I can feel Sam's worried eyes on me all the time until I disappear into the hallway.

After placing the bag into the microwave, I sit over the counter top, throwing my head back in frustration. I really don't want to go back out there. It's enough already knowing that Sam is with someone else but to actually seeing him with Jess is nothing but excruciating pain. I've always tried to tell him how I feel but the fear of rejection and of ruining our friendship always stops me. He probably thinks that this is just me throwing a tantrum as a jealous friend or 'little sister', like he calls me sometimes. But it is not, it's a feeling that has been consuming me since I can remember and I had learned how to hide it up until now.

"You do know the microwave stopped a few minutes ago right?" Sam's voice startles me as he stands in the doorframe, resting his side against a wall.

"Could you please try not to give me a hard attack?" I scold him as I jump off the counter, walking towards the microwave.

"Do you need help?" He stands up straighter, his hands hiding in his jeans.

"To take popcorn out of a microwave? No, I think I can handle that" I reach for a bowl to pour the bag in it but Sam is faster, grabbing the bowl first.

"You can choose not to be this petty, you know that right?" He asks me as he gives me it to me.

"You could've chosen to go to the movies with me, you know that right?" I retort, pushing him slightly so that I can walk away.

His laugh comes out with a hint of sarcasm before turning his face to me. "You are impossible"

"Bite me, Sam" I snarl before walking back into the living room. Sam comes out a few seconds later, jawline tense as his arms fall to his side angrily.

"Hey" Jess whispers to him as he sits down next to her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just remembered some stuff that I forgot to do for a class" He mutters looking quickly at me and the back at Jess. "It's not that important anyways"

"You know what, I'm actually really tired so I am going to head up" I stand up, giving my bowl to Leila. "Enjoy the movie"

"Good night, Y/N" Jess beams at me before turning her eyes back to the TV.

"Good night" My eyes find Sam's as he is also watching me so I dare myself to hold the stare for a couple of seconds before turning around.

—-

Mondays are no fun, everyone knows that. It all started when I slept through my alarm so I had to run to get to class on time and when I was about to walk it, I realized I forgot my homework at my desk on my room. I ended up arriving ten minutes late which wouldn't have been as bad but I tripped over as I walked in so everyone looked at me as I landed on my butt. Oh, and did I forgot to mention that I run into Jessica and Sam making out in the loving room when I went back for my homework? Just great.

"Oh, hey" I grin as I answer my phone. "Where are you?"

"I am about to grab lunch at the dining hall, wanna join me?" Leila's voices echoes at the other side of the line.

"Sure" I shift my bag as it starts to slide down my arm. "Am I going to meet Michelle?"

"Her name is Meghan, and yes" I can hear the nervous tone in her voice. "Please try to be normal"

"What are you talking about? I am normal" I protest as I walk across the campus.

"Sure, babe" I can tell she is rolling her eyes. "See you when you get here"

I hang up the phone only to see that I have a text from Sam. "Hey, can we talk? Let me know when you are free"

I want to make a sassy comeback but I can't because no matter how hard I try, I am still a sucker for Sam. "My last class ends at 6, I'll see you in my apartment"

It's almost like he was waiting for my text because it only takes him a few seconds to answer back. "Okay. I love you, you know that right?"

I know what he means when he says I love you but I can help my reaction. My cheeks turn a slight shade of red as my heart starts beating faster. "I know. You know I love you too. Even when I am being petty"

I end up walking the distance left to the dining hall with a grin on my face. As soon as I walk in I spot Leila in the line, she is with another girl and a guy that looks slightly familiar. "I am here"

"Finally" Leila grunts sarcastically before giving me a hug. "I missed you"

"You saw me this morning as I sprinted past you in the bathroom" I laugh nervously as I feel the guy's eyes on me.

"Still" She smiles before turning to the girl. "Y/N, this is Meghan"

"Oh hi! I am so happy I finally get to meet you" I give Meghan my biggest beam. "Leila has talked so much about you. She is always going on about how gorgeous you are and-"

"Y/N, you remember Matt?" Leila interrupts me before I can embarrass her even more. "He was at the party on Friday"

"Matt, of course" I give him an apologetic smile. "I am so sorry I left that day without saying goodbye when you left for drinks. That was a dick move from my part"

"It's okay" He laughs slightly, his skin wrinkling near his eyes. "You can always make it up to me"

"Uh, sure" I stutter a little bit before turning to face Leila so that I can whisper to her. "You are sneaky, I give you that"

"What are you talking about?" She raises her eyebrow but the smirk in her lips gives her away.

"This seems like a double date" I hook my arm around hers as we walk in the hall.

"Yeah because I would plan a double date in the dining hall" She glares at me before unhooking her arm. "Now, go and talk to Matt, he seems lonely" Before I can complain, she is pushing me over to Matt's side.

"Hi" He looks down at me, his white teeth shining as he smiles.

"Hello" I bite my bottom lip as we walk towards the food lines. "I am really sorry about Friday"

"It's okay" He shrugs. "Why did you leave, tho?"

"I had to water my plants" I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head.

"They must be really important plants if you left in the middle of a party" He hands me a tray as the line gets shorter.

"They are" The image of Sam quickly runs through my mind before I shake the thought away. "Anyways, how was the party after I left?"

"It was okay I guess" He twist his mouth to the side. "You didn't miss much"

"That's because I left, I was the life of the party" I toss my hair to the side sassily.

"We'll have to go to another party soon then" He suggests with a shy smile on his face. "Or maybe a coffee?"

I swallow down slowly, realizing he is basically asking me out. I should say yes, I mean, he is cute and a little charming and I am single. I should say yes. But there's something that's stopping me and I know what it is. "I am really busy these days but if I ever get the chance, I'll let you know"

"Okay" He nods, the smile still on his face. God, he is really sweet. Why am I like this?

—-

The sky is a combination of blues and pinks and purples as the sun starts to hide. I am current sitting in the backyard, the night too pretty not to be watched. I've been talking on the phone for almost an hour now.

"I am sure he didn't mean to" I mumble as I bite into my nails. "Maybe I am exaggerating"

"Why do you always have to defend him?" The deep voice that I could recognize anywhere rumbles through the phone.

"I am not defending him" I groan, running a hand across my face. "He just messes with my head a lot. I want to be mad, I tried to be mad at him but then he sent me that message and puff. Just like that I forgot why was I angry in the first place"

"Y/N, I know him. I am pretty sure Sam is clueless about your feelings for him" I listen as I pull at the grass under my hands. "But that doesn't give him a free pass to be an asshole"

"I love him so much and I shouldn't and it's killing me" I sigh. "I turned a guy down for him and he doesn't even know that I like him"

"I know that this doesn't help at all but you need to move on" I can hear his worried voice at the other end of the line.

"It's not that easy, Dean" I feel the tears collecting in my eyes.

"Dean?" Sam's voice makes me jump. I turn around to find him standing near the glass doors. He looks at me than at my phone.

"I have to go" I talk to Dean before ending the call. "Sam-"

"You were talking to Dean?" He asks, his voice heavier this time. I just nod, my feet digging into the ground. "How long has this been going on?"

"A couple of months" I mutter.

"I can't believe it" He laughs sarcastically. "I came here to apologize because I honestly felt like the worst friend ever. And you've been keeping this secret from me all of this time"

"What was I supposed to do, Sam?" I suddenly feel angry, my blood starting to rush. "Since you started hanging out with Jessica, I was left all alone. I had no one. And Dean has been there every time I need someone and you are not there because you are too busy making out in my living room with my roommate"

"Stop making all of our problems about my relationship with Jess" He snaps, his jaw getting tighter. "Dean is my brother. Don't you think it hurts me to know that all of this time he has been talking with you and that he never reached out to me?"

"I am sorry Sam but not everything is about you" I growl, my hands shaking at my sides. "I was not going to stop doing something just because I hurt you. Not when you kept doing this that hurt me and you didn't even realized it. Was I supposed to just wait until you decided that I was worth you attention? I need someone to talk to, someone to be there for me. You weren't there Sam and you cannot blame me for looking for someone who wanted to be there"

"You said you were happy with my relationship" He shakes his head as he flicks his tongue. "I even asked you if it bothered you"

"Because you were happy, Sam. That's why it didn't bother me. Because as long as I saw a smile on your face, I was okay with it" My voice breaks as the tears start rolling down my face. "That's the difference between you and me. I always put your happiness first"

"You talk like this relationship was a sacrifice to you, like you lost something" He huffs as his eyes search for mine.

"I lost you" I bite my bottom lip to stop the whimper from leaving my lips.

"Don't be dramatic, Y/N" His voice is calmer but colder this time.

"You really don't get it, do you?" I laugh, running mu hand that's covered with my hoodie across my nose. "I think you need to leave"

"What?"

"You know what, I'll leave" I reach for my wallet that's on the tea table. "Goodbye, Sam"

—-

"Matt?" I ask as soon as I hear a voice a the other side of the line. "It's Y/N. Leila gave me your number"

"Oh, hey" I can tell he is smiling. He is always smiling.

"I realized I have the rest of the night free" I bite the inside of my cheek. "Is it too late for that coffee?"

"See you in Coffee Bean in 10" He replies quickly and I can hear him reach for his keys.

"I'll be waiting" I grin before hanging up the phone as I walk across the sidewalk. I quickly type a text for Dean.

"I am sorry for hanging up. You are right, I need to move on. Love you"

————————————————————————

So, this took me longer than I expected but I wasn't having like good ideas when writing this so I am not even sure this is good but I hope you like it. Any feedback is welcomed and very much appreciated. ❤️

General Tag List:

@waywardwboys @fallenangelsneverfade @randomstuff-idontwannatalkboutit @mypassionsarenysins @thesoundofme @franchisefan14 @hazzastyyless @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name

You and I Tag List:

@sam-winchester168 @volleyballer519 @its-my-perky-nipples @yllwtaxi @babydaaz @aestheart @mannls @samwinchesterssexyface

[cyb-by-lang]

Shell Game (1/?)

Wherein Kei relives the worst part of any education system: standardized testing.

Seriously.

My Hero Academia crossover ahoy.

Infiltration was not a mission type Gekkō Keisuke was designed for.

Didn’t mean she didn’t have the skillset for it, no matter how she’d reached that point. Despite a Gordian knot of coincidences and at least one soul-based mishap, she was still left with a strong Nature Release specialty, immense endurance from being a jinchūriki, something of a multicultural education, and the ability to read, speak, and write English. Between the limited preparation time and the possible threat level faced by any shinobi who attempted this mission, there were only so many candidates even before dimensional travel was factored into the Hokage’s decision.

Which was why she was chosen for a very special mission to infiltrate a Japanese high school.

Hey, Isobu.

Yes?

Riddle me this: How am I, a freaking special jōnin, supposed to answer this question?

Kei, it had to be said, had not needed to compose an essay for anything in Japanese since her successful Chūnin Exam. Mission reports? Sure. Fūinjutsu write-ups? Part of the job. Proposals regarding usage of village resources for local and national problems? It cropped up on occasion, but not consistently.

Isobu’s mind peeked over her figurative shoulder.

American high schools only required students to register or be registered for coursework by their parents, as far as Kei recalled. Her actual high school years were a little vague by this point, having devolved into hallway-shaped blurs punctuated primarily by friends and trivia. Mostly friends. In Konoha, compulsory education for shinobi was less of a formal affair and more on-the-job training a thousand times over, leaving holes all over the board.

And unfortunately for Kei, Japanese, mathematics, science, social studies, and English were all required topics. Kei’s Japanese was better than some of her peers, given the emphasis her skillset placed on calligraphy and kanji, but social studies was a wash. Japanese was probably not much better, and it was followed down the drain by mathematics. Science was middling, given the problems imposed by slamming into an alternate universe with ubiquitous internet when the shinobi-ruled world barely understood radios.

But dammit, Kei at least knew some things. Even if her English was informal, she’d done her time in the appropriate school system. Time to get some use out of it.

It was just a matter of muddling along until she could get to the practical.

Why couldn’t a friggin’ hero academy of a high school just involve knocking muggers unconscious? Kei knew how to do that. Without killing anyone, even!

You were supposed to change the exponent too, said Isobu, who read the questions through Kei’s eyes.

Dammit, Kei thought, and erased her second equation. She cracked her knuckles and drew glares from the students around her, but ignored them. At least it’s not differentials. Always sucked at those.

…You know, seeing you attempt calculus at this stage would be hilarious.

Thanks a bunch, Kei told him, and got back to work.

The math test came and went. The social studies test followed suit, reminding Kei that her “peers” were working with a solid decade of education and cultural context she didn’t have. Even if she’d been truly Japanese, there was a real chance a child from her version of Japan would have failed the entire section on Quirk legislation. She probably didn’t fail science, between Isobu and Kei’s discussion method and what she could extrapolate from the briefings regarding Quirks. And English? There was something of an edge there, and Kei and her Tailed Beast buddy had ever been a pair fond of using everything at their disposal to win.

And then, the dreaded practical exam.

With Isobu acting as her live-in Jiminy Cricket, in the exact opposite way a conscience was generally supposed to work, Kei managed to tune out the DJ-like announcer for the practical examination on the big day. She had her paperwork in front of her, a mission prodding at the back of her head, and a whole room full of hero-hopefuls who were probably going to hate her in about fifteen minutes. She did listen to enough of the explanation to know how the robot targets were going to be scored, and could see some figures in the crowd start to slump for one reason or another, but ultimately the information felt extraneous.

Kei had no intention of allowing a written exam keep her from completing her mission. To that end, she would happily destroy every opponent in the examination stadium with only Water ninjutsu. It was a nice way of working off stress.

Kei filed out of the room alongside the other potential students when the intro spiel was over, taking in the crowd. She could see a wide variety of body types, features, and open fear among the examinees. Assuming any of them got in, she’d try memorizing names and faces then.

Her mission would take priority.

“You need to have a paper trail.” Sensei’s frown had been audible over the connection, probably because he had no experience with cell phones and a lot of experience with genjutsu. Not a Luddite, but really unfamiliar with tech.

“That won’t be a problem. We’ll just have her take the entrance examination along with all the other heroes-to-be.” The Mickey Mouse soundalike had given her chills, at least up until she’d realized that they actually were speaking to a talking mouse. Sensei probably would have called him a summon, but Nezu assured them that Quirks worked in mysterious ways. And he actually was a mouse. Probably.

Maybe?

“If it’s what the client wants…” Sensei’s chakra signature remained wary, but it hadn’t shown in his voice. “One academic year or until the threat is ended, whichever is shorter.”

Sort of like any warranty, really. Kind of funny in hindsight.

None of them had any real appreciation for the risks, then.

“By your command, Hokage-sama.”

And here Kei was, dressed in gym clothes for a school she’d never attended and waiting for the hammer to drop. She tapped her shoes on the ground idly, getting used to wearing something other than sandals for the first time in nearly a lifetime, just to feel a bit more prepared. The exam robots were just there for racking up combat scores on opponents who didn’t bleed. Some of the kids around her would be able to go all out. It’d be fun.

But apparently not for the kid just to her left, who looked like someone told him life was cancelled. He had his arms crossed and eyed the entrance like it was a gallows, not a set of unusually large double doors. Another kid looked like she was going to throw up from sheer nerves. Two boys were stretching, while a girl near the front of the crowd was nearly bouncing in place.

Welp. Time to blow off some steam.

“GO!” screamed the digitized voice of the cockatoo-headed announcer, and Kei went to work.

[higgins5]

Tag game

Oof, this is so so late, but I am doing it! And thank you to the lovely @foxsoulcourt for tagging me!

LAST

drink: Water, we are being healthy children here 

phone call: My District Manager at work to discuss my transfer

text message: One of my best friends about his terrible life choices (jk but really binge watching a show for 14 hours straight? Boy get to sleep!)

song you listened to: I’m Over You by Bryan James (it may or may not have been on loop for a while)

time you cried: Last Thursday 

EVER

dated someone twice: Haha, yep. Didn’t work out, but we’re still friends

kissed someone and regretted it: Not yet!

been cheated on: Unfortunately

lost someone special: I think we all have, but such is life

gotten drunk and thrown up: Oh god no

fave colors? Sea green, storm gray, oh I can’t believe i almost forgot! Really any deep blue or purple, like how the night sky gets just before it’s almost black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE I?

made new friends: Multiple, and i am so greatly for all of the lovely people who have graced my life

fallen out of love: Not so much people. But things I believed I loved turned a little false, yes

laughed until you cried: Gosh, all the time. It’s awful, I call it my seal laugh because I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe and i’m just doubled over hitting a table or my leg to express my joy because that’s all I can do

found out someone was talking about you: Just two weeks ago! And honestly I hate that. Like if you’re gonna talk bad about me just do it to my face. I’ll find out one way or another, might as well be from you

met someone who changed you: Some good people, some not so good people. But I believe it was all for a reason

found out who your friends are: Yes

kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: Hmm... Well, I do not actually have a Facebook so I guess that would be a no

GENERAL

how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: I guess I can clarify about FB here. My parents were always freaked out about the internet so never let me get one, and being a good child I never did- plus I was just not interested, so I just... never got around to it in adulthood. AND like whenever I needed to talk to a friend through FB I just used my parents page cause that was their solution, so there was no real need. But like, from the friends I had on my mom’s page yes, I know all of them irl

do you have any pets: SEVERAL AND I LOVE ALL OF MY FURRY CHILDREN! I have an 11yo poodle/terrier mix (mom was a poodle, dad was the terrier next door. Truly a scandal) named Bear and i love my grumpy old man to death; a 2yo boxer/husky mix we rescued that was originally supposed to be a lab which was a total lie named Nutmeg, but it’s okay I love my babe even if i can take her on a 3mi run and she’s still ready to run 3 more; an 8yo wonderfully affectionate and beautiful tabby cat named Willow; a 6 year old (oh my god, she’s 6, it feels like yesterday she was a satellite dish in a collar that meowed) purring machine tabby cat named Sage; and two beautiful girls. Lagertha and Gwenievere are two very playful and loving one year old dumbo eared rats

do you want to change your name: Eh, not really. I’ve had it for this long, might as well keep it

what did you do for your last birthday: Oh that was so fun. I went to the Melting pot (this fancy fondue place, so good) With a couple of friends and had a really great time, even though someone got me crayons as a gag gift (I.... hate, crayons with a PASSION, but she’s known me for like 10 years so of course I accepted.... hesitantly)

what time did you wake up today: Like 7:30? but i didn’t actually leave my bed until 9ish because don’t be fooled, I am not a morning person. I just run because I’m an idiot

what were you doing last night at midnight: Sleeping

what is something you can’t wait for: Figure out where life is taking me and then be a bomb ass bitch at it

what are you listening to right now: X&Y by Coldplay

have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I have, and he is a lovely person. Go talk to a Tom everybody, nice people

something that gets on your nerves: Horrible people. Like just those people that are horrible for no absolute reason. Like grow up, get a life, why do you have to make other people just because you’re unhappy. there are many people you could see for help and I have a number you can call if you need a recommendation 

most visited website: Probably a tie between Tumblr, Youtube, and Spotify

hair color: Well, naturally I am blonde but rn it’s a reddish auburn color (but hey, people ask me all the time if it’s my natural color so who knows maybe i was destined for this shade)

long or short hair: ish? It’s growing from a pixie (that I might go back to soon) so its like... not quite shoulder length yet but give it another month and we might be there

what do you like about yourself: You know what, i’m gonna give myself some love and say everything. Lol, but as a serious answer probably my personality/nature. I have a very big heart but am also incredibly sarcastic so it is a delicate balance 

want any piercings: SO many. I’m saving up to get my nose done soon (nostril) and later I’ll get my daith, helix, third piercing in my lobe, tragus, and maybe rook

blood type: Some kinda O? Honestly for someone who donates blood as much as I do, I should really know (but important blood donation note, if you wish to make sure not to do it too frequently! Healthy people = healthy blood = healthy donation receivers!)

nicknames: Gosh, too many to type. Apparently I’m just nick namey. But uhhh, the most common: Ash, Ashbash, Higgins, Higgy, Higgs, Figgins, Chief 

relationship status: Single

zodiac sign: I’m one of the twin fish babes, Pisces all the way

pronouns: She/Her

fave tv show: Don’t watch as much tv as I used to but Supernatural is always a good go to (recently I’ve been watching a lot of HGTv and doctor Phil and Hallmark with my mom though, if that’s anything)

tattoos: None (yet)

right or left handed: right handed, I’m basically useless with my left (unless an instrument is involved)

ever had surgery: Nope, and hopefully we keep that trend goin!

piercings: two ear piercings 

sports: Uh... in High School I was pretty active and track and I was a competitive shooter (air rifles- but I’m from Texas so). Nothing in college at the moment, I might try out for the track team just cause i miss bein a part of stuff

vacation: I am broke, I can only dream (but I do really wanna travel, so gotta save up!)

trainers: my totally stylish suede brown vans are my go to, but Adidas for running

eating: Currently? Nothing, but I did have some steamed broccoli and carrots&rice, and grilled chicken for dinner

drinking: Orange Juice

I’m about to watch: Absolutely nothing

waiting for: Didn’t I already answer this? it’s so much pressure. Uh... change?

want: To be successful in whatever I 

get married: Eventually

career: Haven’t gotten there yet, but everyday is one step closer

hugs or kisses: Depends on who and when

lips or eyes: Eyes. First thing I notice

shorter or taller: At 5′3 I don’t think I can even pretend to say i’m tall

older or younger: I probably fall more on the younger spectrum

nice arms or stomach: Yes

hookup or relationships: I am a committed relationship kinda person all the way. Never really understood the whole hookup thing but to each their own

troublemaker or hesitant: A hesitant troublemaker is probably more me. I say I try to stay out of trouble, but it just kinda finds me

HAVE I EVER?

kissed a stranger: No

drunk hard liquor: Yes

lost glasses: Ugh, all the time, worst is when I lose my contacts AND glasses

turned someone down: Yes

sex on the first date: Not my style

broken someone’s heart: Yes

had your heart broken: In love and life

been arrested: Nope, and i’d like to keep it that way!

cried when someone died: Yes

fallen for a friend: Yes

DO I BELIEVE IN?

yourself: Well someone has to, so might as well be me!

miracles: I do. And if they aren’t true, at least the belief of their existence helps make their outcome possible

love at first sight: In some fairytale world maybe, but for me, nah

kiss on the first date: Possibly

angels: Yes. Of what way and form I think that’s for you to decide

OTHER

best friend’s name: I have a couple because there is too much life to only need one person in it! Lexi+Brittany+Mauricio+Imaya from all the way back to middle school and Ronan (a recent addition)

And even if we don’t talk every day of our lives I know they’ll always be there for me when I need them. Good or bad. And they know I would do the same. That’s all that really matters in the end. They’re my little chosen family

(oh that got a bit sappy, okay moving on)

eye color: Light blue? Blue? I dunno, people say it’s pretty so I go with it

fave movie: Don’t really have one...

favorite actor: Yeah... same with movies, don’t have one of those either

extrovert or introvert: I like to call myself an introverted extrovert

favorite flower: white peonies 

favorite hello kitty character? I wasn’t aware there were characters aside from hello kitty....

oof this is a long post, but very fun to do! Hopefully y’all haven’t done this yet but if so well I’m gonna tag you anyways @i-h8-u-no-u-dont @pansexualpandion @rvmengf @egglorru @it-has-the-gay-fanfiction and really @ anyone who wants to do this! I’d love to see your versions!!

[jediannsolo]

Graduate (Shadow and Meï Interaction I wrote eons ago)

Shadow stared at the letters “109 S.R.”, which had been hastily stenciled onto his new mailbox just this morning. He sighed, flexing his hands anxiously from inside his pockets as he looked around the suburban neighborhood with a grimace.

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t it had been a condo or an apartment at the end of a hallway, where surely no one but the groundskeeper would pass by? At least the groundskeeper alone would be the only fool passing judgement instead of the whole division.

With his back to the street, he couldn’t truly tell... but he could have sworn he heard a couple of vehicles slow their trek before taking off again. Most likely making sure their eyes were not deceiving them. After all, his unique appearance was unlike anyone else around for regions. They must have known who he was.

“Would you give it a rest? Burning a hole through the mailbox won’t help you blend in.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing quietly. Meï had arrived. There was no need to turn around to confirm it. How could he ever mistake that breathy, cabaret-esque voice spoken with the inflection of a scornful mother? She had spent enough time on his metaphorical tail for even her aura to become unmistakable. However, she did have the keys to the place, so there was a sliver of relief in sensing her presence today.

He could go disappear within it.

“You wouldn’t have to worry so much about getting recognized if you had gotten yourself a trim like I had told you.”

He fixed his mouth into a straight line, biting down on his lip. He knew better than to have this discussion with her. Always the same responses.

They’re not like regular hair.

They won’t grow back to a sharp point.

It’s not a myth. Look it up.

At this point, he was convinced she only said it to bother him.

Almost as if she was confirming his thoughts, the grin in her voice suddenly became very evident. “How about I set up an appointment for Tuesday?”

“Meï.”

“Alright, alright, I know...” her tone jumped an octave, obviously coming to the same conclusion as him. “I just want you to push those worries away!”

Meï stood beside him, their eyes still yet to meet. She stole a quick glance to her vehicle, which held a precious gift she was hoping to give to him today. ‘But only if he is ready,’ she reminded herself.

Her eyes then scanned Shadow and she held back a snort over his chosen wardrobe. Only this man would wear a long sleeved shirt in the middle of a heat wave. He is more self-conscious about his scarred pelt than she originally thought. She followed his gaze to the black letters painted on the off-white mailbox and she mirrored his aloof posture. “You know, it’s just your initials,” she tried to relieve his apparent anxiousness. “It’s not like your name is being paraded around for the world to see. Plus, most people don’t even know your name. It’s a bunch of superficial infamy—”

She stopped short at seeing Shadow turn his heel and walk to the entrance, ignoring her. Any other day, she probably would have snapped at him for constantly engaging others like a common sociopath. But today was different. This was supposed to be a milestone day. He was finally out of the Institute and into the parole program! Beings with the type of criminal history he’s had only dream of this opportunity! Why wasn’t he joyful in any way?

Was he just tired? Annoyed? Disgusted? Meï even briefly wondered if he was upset over not being able to pick out his own home and that he had to depend on what the landlords provided for him. But that didn’t seem like the type of thing Shadow would worry about. Yet there he was; leaning against the window, looking into the pre-furbished house with the most intense disinterest she had ever seen from an Institute graduate.

He’s hard to read. Always has been.

After another quick glance at her car to make sure her gift was okay, Meï approached him with sincere caution. She had the feeling that addressing the subject directly would encourage him into shutting her out. She may not have known him for very long, but at least she knew the best way to get him to listen to her is to start with an apology.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that,” she said.

“Like what,” he muttered without breaking his gaze forward.

“Like it’s easy to just... put everything you went through behind you and just be happy again.”

“‘Again’?”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” She puffed her cheeks momentarily, suppressing her natural penchant for arguments. “Maybe this isn’t quite what you wanted, but... I am here as the middleman between you and TBI. As long as no more accidents happen, you never have to walk into that building again.”

Shadow wordlessly turned to look at her for the first time since she arrived.

They locked eyes and Meï smiled, hoping that his spirits were lifted far enough for her to feel safe giving him his housewarming gift.

Little did she know that she had just said the wrong thing.

“So... picture just a couple of years from now— four at the very most!” She said as she reached for the keys in her pocket and unlocked the door. “Trials will finally be over, you’ll be virtually unshackled, this house no longer has to be your home and the wild world is yours to see... isn’t that exciting?!”

The hedgehog coughed. Not in direct response to her, she noted. Furrowing his brow, Shadow entered the house with a “tsk”.

Meï pursed her lips. Her patience had run out. Without thinking, she grabbed his sleeve and spun him around to face her. His indignant stare was venomous. But so was hers.

“What is your problem?!” She didn’t mean to shout. But there it was.

“You want to know what my problem is?” He growled his words, his spikes starting to curve with his rising fury. “I waited ten years for the moment I could walk out of Betterment and never look back. And this,” he gestured towards his very beige living space, “is what I get. My name still deemed unremovable from the watch list, a starter house in a manufactured neighborhood so damn packed that it looks like a cubicle grid, and—!”

He stopped short, staring into her eyes for a second longer before turning away. Meï sighed.

“And a warden constantly at your heels making sure you don’t backtrack even once,” she finished his thought for him. “I know. I’m sorry. This is... this is a new procedure.”

“It’s not “new”. It’s just mine. No one else has to go through this shit except for me.”

“Shadow.”

“Deny it.”

Her words caught in her throat. She couldn’t deny it. There was no one else in the institute that had the powerful and unpredictable capabilities that Shadow had. They needed to make double and triple sure he was reformed. It would be an arduous process and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it at this point.

But it didn’t mean he should be so hopeless.

“It’s... it’s just temporary,” she tried to reason.

“My entire sentence was ‘temporary’.”

“Dammit, Shadow. Stop this defeatist attitude. Fine. This is not freedom. But it’s a hell of a lot better than a padded cell, isn’t it?”

Shadow growled in response. It was absolutely pathetic that he had to choose between the lesser of two evils. He’s been patient enough as it is. However, it’s not like he actually remembered the majority of the chaos he had unleashed upon the land. It all happened too fast. It was all instinctual, like being stuck on automatic. Maybe his suffering was actually  justified. Maybe they were being foolishly kind.

Maybe... he truly deserved to rot away in a cell.

Meï observed Shadow sitting on his sofa, swimming in his own thoughts.

Or drowning in them.

She sat gingerly at the opposite end of the couch. She wasn’t sure for how long, but she allowed herself to sit in the silence that Shadow was accustomed and attached to. Just the sound of a passing vehicle or the throaty coo of a Tranquill periodically breaking the silence. It felt like hours, but she was sure it was much less.

“... couple of years, huh?”

She nearly jumped a foot in the air, despite how low his voice was. Meï was definitely not expecting him to speak first. “Y-yeah. I mean, as long as there’s no regression, you know?”

“Hmm,” Shadow looked around, drinking in his new surroundings for the first time since he entered. “I suppose that’s... shorter than ten years.”

Meï grinned. “Yes, definitely.”

Silence again.

She didn’t mind it as much this time around.

And she was beginning to think he may be ready for that gift after all...

[juicifeur]

Passing Through (Pt.2)

Summary: After some time apart, the reader and Sam reunite by chance. And both parties are shocked, to say the least. The problems of two different worlds being so close to each other are finally revealed.

Read Part 1 HERE

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, crying?

A/N: Thanks for reading!

The way someone carried themselves could tell you a lot about them. This guy was confident, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

His chest was broad, and he was tall and handsome like the men you usually leaned towards. Everything about this man seemed to appeal to you, except for his incessant, self-centred speech. He didn’t care to ask you where you were from or what a nice girl like you was doing in a dive like this.

Your eyes couldn’t help but take in his clothing choices. Freshly-pressed dress pants and brown leather shoes seemed to be his go-to outfit, hardly one that you might wear to the local bar for a drink.

His lips turned up into a cocky smirk and he flashed his perfectly straight teeth as he spoke. You sipped the cocktail he bought you. It was one of the most expensive ones on the menu but he’d insisted. He didn’t seem to care about throwing his money around to impress people.

   “And I started my own company at the age of nineteen. Bought my first Porsche at 20 and here I am.” The fact that you’d acquired this man’s full family history in less than ten minutes meant that he held himself and his lineage with high regard, so that must mean his money was more of an inherited thing. After all, who could get that big of a loan to start a business without sucking up to his filthy-rich daddy. You just kept nodding along with his story.

   “Well, you sound like you can take care of yourself pretty well.” You tried your best to flirt back, hoping it would lead to some sort of attraction. He may have actually been cute if his ego wasn’t in the way and if he wasn’t trying too hard to compensate for something below the belt.

   “I can take care of you pretty well too, sweetheart.” The man smirked back and his hand ran gently up your forearm. Your instincts told you to get the hell out of there, but when was the last time that had any effect on your actions?

   “One more drink and I might take you up on that.” You finished off the heavily spiked beverage in your hand and ate the cherry. He nodded and smirked again, confident as ever that he was going to get somewhere tonight.

   “You got it. Don’t go anywhere.” He ran a hand over his neatly combed hair and walked off to get back to the bar. 

Subconsciously, you pulled at the tight corners of the outfit you’d chosen for the night. Drawing attention to yourself had become more of a habit since your heart was broken.

The small bar was busy for a Tuesday night, even though it wasn’t the most popular pub in town, but you went here because it was more off the grid. Usually, you went here because it wasn’t busy. There were girls dancing with guys and drinks being spilt, and all the sounds of the bar started to get more and more annoying.  Your eyes travelled around the room, taking in all the faces in the small space. They landed on a few who looked like they needed at least one glass of water, but they landed on one that looked too familiar to you as well. He seemed to do a double take when he saw you.

His hair was a little shorter, and eyes looked tired - they seemed like they’d seen things much worse than what they had two years ago. But he was the same man you remembered, there was no denying that.

   “The signs are all around this town, Sam, you can’t tell me you don’t think it’s suspicious.”

You heard Dean break off their conversation and almost choke on his drink as you marched over to their table furiously. He looked up at you.

   “Y/N? You look-”

   “What? Different? Yeah, I got that.” You glared at both of them. Sam didn’t speak, he just seemed to stare at you. You breathed in heavily and switched between looking at each boy a few times, waiting for them to say something. They didn’t.

   “What the hell are you two doing here.” Your fists were clenched by your sides. Dean looked at Sam, unsure of what to say with the shock that overwhelmed him all of a sudden, and Sam just looked back.

   “Um-”

   “Don’t answer that. You shouldn’t have come back.” You turned your back on them again and started back to your small table.

   “Good thing you let that one go, Sam. Turned into a crazy ex.” You heard Dean scoff under his breath and you stopped dead in your tracks. You turned again and crossed your arms, offended.

   “Excuse me?” Both boys looked as if they had just insulted God himself, fear replaced their blank stares. 

   “Abort, abort,” Dean muttered as you walked back to them and slammed your hand down on their table. You glared at them.

   “I was not the one who abandoned the other in the middle of the night. I’m not the one who didn’t give jack shit for an explanation.” You looked at Sam and the look on his face told you he was still guilty. He bit the inside of his lip and his eyes scanned yours.

   “This seems like an issue for the two of you to work out on your own-” Dean finished his beer and got up but your hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

   “Sit. You were the one who told him to leave, asshole.” Glaring at the older brother, you reverted back to a straight posture. You couldn’t control what came out of your mouth at this point. Two years of pent-up rage came pouring out, then you stopped.

   “Y/N, let me explain, this is all a misunderstanding,” Dean tried to start before you cut him off. 

   “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now. You sons of bi-” 

   “Hey, gorgeous, I got you a-” Your companion from earlier found you again and looked at both of the men who sat at the table. All of their chests seemed to expand a little like some macho showdown was about to happen. Sam seemed to stiffen.

   “Who are your friends?” The man, whose name you still didn’t know, asked - as if these two other guys being near you didn’t bother him. You rolled your eyes.

   “They’re not my friends. Let’s get out of here.” You sighed, putting the drink that he brought down on the table. Your date looked rather confident that he was the one that got to take you home.

   “Your place or mine.” His smirk grew and he glanced sideways at the boys at the table. You tried your best to act as though the Winchesters weren’t there. But Sam didn’t seem to be trying to hold back his facial expressions. It looked like your date would be murdered if Sam got the chance.

   “Mine.” You answered in a shaky breath. 

   “So long boys.” You hooked your arm through his and smiled obnoxiously at the boys before you left with the guy. Sam and Dean just watched in shock.

An hour later you confirmed your suspicions of compensation and were grateful for a loud knock on your front door.

   “Who’s that?” The man getting dressed asked as he fastened his jeans.

   “I don’t know, just get out.” You pulled a t-shirt on and practically pushed him towards the door. 

   “Hey, hey, what’s the rush? I was having fun.” He tried to kiss you again and you could still smell the product in his perfect hair. You pulled away quickly.

   “Good for you. Unfortunately, you don’t know how to use what you got. Now get out.” You practically growled as you opened your front door and pushed him out with only one shoe on, his clean white sock suddenly dirt-ridden.

   “What the hell?” The guy grumbled as he threw his coat over his shoulder. He glared in your direction and barely dodged his shoe which was thrown at him. 

   “Bitch.” He muttered, picking it up off the ground and sauntering toward his red Porsche parked on the curb, right in front of a black Impala.

 You turned your head to greet the man standing on your doorstep.

   “Sam.”

   “Hi.” He responded, sighing deeply.

   “Can I come in?” He asked, nodding his head into the house. You nodded back nervously and let him enter.

You made him a peppermint tea to be polite, but you knew that was his favourite.

   “Thanks.” He sipped carefully so he wouldn’t get burnt.

   “What are you guys doing back here?” You could barely look him in the eyes.

   “We’re pass-”

   “Passing through, right. Should have known-”

   “I didn’t want to leave, Y/N.” Sam said suddenly. The room went quiet for a moment

   “Then why did you? Why did you leave? We could have worked whatever it was out.” You felt your eyes begin to water and you leaned on your counter.

   “You didn’t even leave a note. Or a text. I tried to call you but your number changed.” You crossed your arms and you could hear your voice breaking. Sam was looking down at his mug.

   “I thought it would be better that way.” He mumbled through locks of his hair.

   “Well, it wasn’t.”

   “I get that now. Look, if you want to get back together-”

   “No, Sam I don’t want to get back together!” Your decibels in your voice cut through the quiet speaking. He was looking right at you, shocked that such a loud noise could come out of your mouth. You were crying. 

   “Just tell me why you left. Please.” Your voice broke as tears ran down your cheeks and Sam kept staring at you. His eyes glassed over as he watched you break down right in front of him.

   “Tell me why you left, Sam, please tell me what I did-”

   “Nothing, Y/N, you didn’t do anything, listen to me.” He resisted the urge to reach across the counter and take your hands. You looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and you sniffled.

   “Dean,” Sam breathed out.

   “Dean said I shouldn’t see you anymore, Y/N. He told me it was dangerous to keep coming back here. That I could lead something here.” He sighed deeply in his chest and he looked sincerely into your face. You watched as his hands folded around his mug.

   “I didn’t explain, and that wasn’t fair to you. I’m- I’m sorry.” He bit the inside of his lip again and ran a hand through his hair. You nodded your head and felt a weight lifted off of you. The ache in your heart eased, and you felt Sam’s hand drift over yours. The tears ran freely down your cheeks as you finally had your answer.

Two years of throwing yourself into situations you knew you would regret, and it was all for that apology. 

Your stomach seemed to flip slightly and you felt lightheaded. Your vision turned darker and your limbs seemed to go numb, but they still moved and held you up.

   “Y/N?” Sam’s voice beckoned. You looked up at him and pulled your hand away. His eyes were full of regret.

   “Are you okay?” He asked.

   “Will- will you stay with me tonight?” You asked softly, not recognizing your own voice. Some part of you wanted him to agree. For some reason, your fight or flight instincts began to kick in

   “Um.” He mumbled.

   “Nevermind, that was a dumb question...” You looked down. 

   “I should...I should go.” Sam said, standing up and quickly walking towards the door. He paused and turned to look at you again.

   “Y/N, we can’t see each other. Not again. I can’t.” He looked back at you and you felt your heart break for the second time. 

   “Did you stop loving me? We can make it work, I know we-”

   “No, Y/N.” Sam said, frustrated. You felt a heavy breath leave your chest and your hands lifted to wipe your eyes.

   “Thought I had you there.” Sam’s expression changed to fear as your eyes turned black. He stumbled back and reached for his gun. But your hand lifted again and he flung backwards against the wall.

You were trapped inside your own body.

   “Y/N, I know you’re in there. You can fight this-” Sam was cut off when his windpipe was. Your arm was extended and seemed to be choking him through the air, your heart sped up, beating furiously. You screamed for him to help you, but your mouth didn’t open and your voice made no sound. It was just as if there were weights on your ankles, holding you down and keeping you from moving, interrupting.

   “Finally,” The thing controlling you finally spoke.

   “Been waiting a long time for you, Sammy.” It let him go and he took in a sharp breath to refill his lungs. The corners of your mouth turned up into a smirk and Sam Winchester looked genuinely scared.

   “Let Y/N go, this has nothing to do with-” His throat closed up again and there was a sickening laugh that came from inside your skull. It echoed loudly enough to cloud your thoughts.

   “Sam! Help me!” You shrieked, and the presence laughed again. 

   “He can’t do anything to help you, now, all he can do is-”

 A gunshot rang out and you felt a searing pain in your thigh. A scream ripped through your chest and the force that had taken over you laughed again.

   “You shot me? That can’t do much.” It said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Dean standing in the doorway with a soft plume of smoke coming from his pistol.

   “Unless there’s a devil’s trap carved into the bullet.”

To be continued   

Always Tags: @knightofmischief @potato8queen @sherlock44 @too-much-winchester   @krista200022   @mcdoyle22   @lezbianlovebitez @leiassorganaa@katestiel @kylorentrsh @trashbutnotforyou @angel-of-death23 @angel-allie-golcha-aroha @thedamnchesters @kickasscas67 @hoe-zier @kyara2015 @trustnobodyshootfirst @all-ur-friends-r-dead @rhae-winchester @one-shots-supernatural @spn-ayyy @abigrumple @livelovelike555 @missdestiel67 @lemonadegazeelle @elsatxx @superhero-lover101 @jadepc @becs-bunker

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Not on a tag list but I thought might like to read part 2: @gallifreyansass @growningupgeek @broken-angel-withashotgun

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Message me if you want to be tagged/untagged Always accepting tags for Always Tags, or tags for a specific character

REBLOGS, LIKES, and COMMENTS are much appreciated<3 

[purplecatterpiller]

The Storm (Part one)

A thick wall of white swirled around the truck shaking it as she drove cautiously down the old dirt road. It was late in the day but the blizzard was just beginning to settle in for the long cold November night. Making out what was the side of the road versus the actual road was becoming more and more difficult. Even the trees seemed to have a trouble telling the sky from the earth as the swayed. Hitting a pothole She felt the wheels of the truck pull in one direction. Holding her breath she did her best to turn into the skid. It came out clean. Slowing down, something up ahead caught her eyes. A black silhouette of a car on the side of the road was very out of place. Coming to a full stop for just a moment it was clear that the old muscle car was stuck, and whoever was driving was not having any luck getting it out.

Already two inches had accumulated on the vehicle making it difficult to tell if the owner was still inside or if they had abandoned the car. The closest gas station or even house was a good two miles, and anyone that had two brain cells would know not to try and walk in this weather. Between the snow and unseasonably negative temperatures, it would me frostbite at best and hypothermia at worst. Even with the heat blasting inside the iron bucket, it didn’t help as she rolled down the window and began to yell out at the car hoping someone would answer. Yet as she began to shout the howling wind took away the words. There was no way anyone would hear her.

Rolling the manual window back up she weighed the option of getting out of the car when a large figure appeared at the driver’s side window. With a shock she jumped and reached for the shotgun under her seat before realizing that it was not a bear but a man with long shaggy hair, wearing little more than jean jacket and flannel. Doing his best to seem friendly he gave a slight grin despite the cold whipping his face turning his cheeks and tip of his nose a bright red. Placing her hand on her chest, she took a breath before partially rolling down the window a few inches.

Returning the smile she did her best to neighborly. “You stuck?” Well, that was a stupid question She thought.

The man nodded. Breathing into his hands trying to warm them. Taking in the image before her she could already see his knuckles were turning white. “My brother and I went off the road, any chance you could pull us out?” His low smooth voice was a pleasant alternative to the wind.

“Unfortunately no. The roads are too slippery right now, almost lost control myself.” She looked around for the second man but saw no one. “But I could give you a ride to where you're going. From there you could call a tow truck.”

he nodded. “You sure?”

“Yeah, not a problem. Besides you’ll be ice by morning, temps are going to keep dropping, and cells don’t work this far out.” While normally she wasn’t one to give strangers rides, these were not normal circumstances. And it didn’t look as though this man was the least bit prepared for a night in the northern woods of Maine.  Not during a nor'easter at least.

He nodded running around the truck back to the car. Another man rolled down the driver side window, Getting a better look she could see him look over as the first gestured to her. She waved still smiling. They looked like they were arguing, the first looked annoyed as if he didn’t want to leave the car. Just then a large gust came from behind funneling snow straight in through the window covering him. Reluctantly he got out. Turning around just for a moment to grab two duffel bags. Shoving one into the taller man's arms. The first came jogging almost slipping on a patch of ice before jumping in taking the middle seat of the single cab truck. She watched at the second kissed his hand then placed it on the car before joining them.

Covered in snow they both rubbed their hands together in front of the vents. She turned the heat up a little more, taking in the sight before her. Neither looked as if they had seen so much snow in their lives or at least had experienced it in such a way.

“Thank’s for the ride. But we would have been fine.” Shorter one sounded as if it was a personal insult to him. Ignoring it she shrugged

“Names Alice. Where you boys headed?” Putting the truck in drive it lurched forward crawling out of a snow drift that had already settled in front of it.

“I’m Sam, this is my brother dean.” Sam was thankful for the chance to get out of the cold and wanted to show his appreciation. Dean was more upset about leaving Baby behind. A decision that would surely cause problems later. “We were just trying to pass through. But I guess now we are looking for a motel.”

Watching the road it had become worse than just moments ago. The wind churning the snow creating a tunnel of blinding white. Thankfully having had grown up in the ever-changing weather that was Maine, She could drive in almost any terrain or storm. It was just a matter of knowing your vehicle and how much it could take.

“Well, you're in luck that’s where I’m headed.” Looking at them from the corner of her eye she noticed their mannerism, the roughness to them, giving them a vibe of genuine, making them easy to read.  “You boys hunters?”

At the mention of hunter, they both paused for a moment giving each other a look that communicated more than words could have said. Dean now seemed on edge. “How’d you know we’re hunters?” His gruff voice grew defensive

Focusing back on the road she looked for the turn onto the main road. “Most hunters I run into have the same look about em. Like there's something they have their eye on but they can't quite see it past the trees.”

“Most? You run into a lot of us then.” Dean asked still sounding a little distrustful.

“All the time.” She shrugged off the feeling that he was trying to get at something.

“You a hunter then?” Dean talked a lot. Sam focused on warming his frozen fingers.

She shook her head with a sly smile. “No can't say that I had any interest in it. Though my father did try to get me to take up the sport.” In the distance a faint red neon light called to her thru the snow, it read vacancy. “Here we are. Though I do enjoy deer meat I prefer to get mine from the butcher.”

Dean relaxed a bit keying a half smile grow across his lips. The word hunter had multiple meanings and in the star of Maine during this time of year, it wasn't surprising to have the word thrown around so carelessly. Sam also amused by the mild miscommunication took it as a sign that this would be a trip to remember.

Pulling into the parking lot Alice parked directly in front of the office. An open sign hanging on the inside of the glass door. Jumping out of the monster of a truck and into small space it was a nice change from the blistering cold. The heat was steady, a red-headed girl with braids and glasses stood behind the counter reading a book. There was an old faded blue couch underneath the window and a stand with a variety of pamphlets across from it. The girl at the counter pushed her glasses up, placing the book face down. She couldn't have been more than 17.

“Hey Judy, you can go I'll close up.” Alice ducked behind the desk grabbing a key off the wall and tossing it at the girl. “Give your mum a call tell her you're staying here tonight. The roads are terrible you shouldn't be driving. Room 104.”

Judy took the keys glancing at the disheveled men standing in the middle of the room. Dean picking thru the packets on the wall pointing out one advertising the dinner a few miles away. Alice put her hand on Judy’s  shoulder.

“I got em. Go get some rest and you can take tomorrow off.” Without a word she shrugged grabbing her coat, then pushed past the two men. “So what you guys looking for?”

Dean was still distracted looking at the pamphlets and news articles on the wall. Sam stepped up placing his bag on the floor. It made a familiar sound of something metal shifting.

“Double. You work here?” He looked genuinely interested.

Nodding Alice typed a few words on the computer. “Actually I own the place. Inherited it from my father after he passed.” Taking the credit card scanning it through approved popped up on the screen. “Sounds lame but I wouldn't have chosen to do anything else.”

With Sams easy going attitude and relaxed demeanor, it was easy to open up. Not that Alice had anything to hide. Her life was an open book. Being someone who had grown up in the small town after her mother passed away when she was a kid, she father bought the failing motel on a whim. But it quickly became a home to them, business even increased after the first few months. Attracting mostly tourist that were interested in hunting or the hikers that were interested in the regions mass amount of trails and natural caves. Alice's only regret was that it hadn't been doing near as well the last few years since her father's passing.

Hands tucked into his pockets sam smiled understanding the draw of a normal quiet life. “Doesn't sound half bad actually.”

Dean reappeared holding a free map of the area which highlighted a few caves and some of the rivers. “You said that there are a lot of hunters in the area. Anyone ever talks about seeing something bigger than a deer?”

“Of course. We get a few stories about bears, a lynx once in while. Moose.” Turning back to Sam, she found herself wondering how long they’d been on the road for. “If you guys are looking for a specific area I can get you in touch with Jim. He knows all of the best hunting spots.”

“Nah, Think we’ll be all set. We can handle our own can’t we Sammy?” He patted Sam’s shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thank you, that would be great.” Taking the key from Alice's hand he smiled kindly again.

“You mentioned something about a tow truck earlier you got a number or should I just take yours down?” Dean interrupted again. Smiling more flirtatiously this time.

Alice, of course, wasn't having any of it. She’d dealt with so many like him on a weekly basis it wasn’t even flattering anymore. Instead of playing games with Dean she turned to Sam, the less abrasive of the two. “The car should be here by morning. Jim is also the tow guy. I’ll give a call before I close up shop tonight.” Dean got the hint took the key, mumbling something under his breath before walking out into the blizzard. “Didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”

Sam shrugged unfazed, Dean was running on little sleep, and had been striking out with near everyone lately, to say the least, it was having a small impact on his ego. “Don’t take it personally.”

Alice began to work on closing down the computer, then the register. “I won’t. How long are you guys planning on staying?”

“Just tonight and tomorrow. Thanks for all the help. What time does the office open tomorrow?” Sam found himself trying to delay the inevitable.

He didn't want to leave the woman named Alice, she reminded him of what home should be. A smiling face, a helping hand, and a straight to the point comment when needed. All things he and Dean hadn't seen or been apart of in a very long time. Sensing his reluctance to leave Alice didn't push him, she was in no hurry to close the office. It had been a long time since anyone new had actually stopped to just talk. Too often tourists would rush through only stopping to ask about where to check in with the game warden or park ranger. And there was no harm in enjoying the company of someone not from the small rural town.

Alice finished closing the computer down but made no move away from the counter. “We open at 9 but I'm usually up by 6. You in a hurry to skip town?” Leaning forward on her elbows Alice had the same unwavering smile that had been present from the moment they met.

“No, not at all. Just curious. How long have you been running the place?”

“My whole life really. My father bought it when I was five, from the start I loved it. Would talk to the most interesting people and let me tell you we've had a lot of them. But I took over full time about two years ago.” Alice found herself getting lost in the multifaceted layers of Sam's hazel eyes.

“You said you inherited from your father?” Sam was trying not to get too personal but had to ask. A picture hanging behind the counter of Alice and the older man that could only be her father. “I don't mean to pry.”

“No it's fine he passed then. Rather unexpectedly.” She flinched at the memory of when she'd gotten the news. “How about you and your brother. You guys heading home for Thanksgiving?”

Sam's brow pulled together. Thanksgiving had been such a foreign concept the past few years. “No.” He ran his hand through his long hair. “Not this year anyway. It's just us right now so it's not really something we put a lot of effort into.”

The phone rang pulling them both away from the conversation. Mouthing the words sorry as Alice picked up the phone. Taking the hint Sam headed out the door into the blustery wind. To join his brother in their room.

Inside the room was like many other motel rooms, a small kitchenette, bathroom, tv, two beds. The only difference was this one was decorated like a hunting cabin, antlers on the wall, a fish as well. Dean was sitting up in bed watching a Golden Girls marathon, Nursing one of the beers that head taken from the Impala. His eyes not even looking up as Sam fell backward onto the opposite bed with an umph.  Sam placed his arms behind his head, lost in thought about Alice.

“Did you get her number or did you chicken out?” Dean’s words went right over his younger brothers head. Getting only a Mhm in return. Dean chucked a pillow hitting him directly. “Yo! Sammy anyone in there or should I call Cas?”

Pushing the pillow off him Sam’s eye refocused on the room around him. He looked over, noticing in the faint glow of the light that three empty bottles sat on the nightstand. HAd he really spent that much time talking to Alice? “No, i’m good.” Pausing for a moment he thought about bringing up the nagging feeling, that he felt when talking to Alice. The gut feeling he got sometimes when on a case, that told him there was more going on. But he pushed the thought away, knowing Dean would just tell him he was being an idiot.

At six am sharp Alice found herself looking at a wall snow. At least half a foot had accumulated overnight, it was still dark, and the temps were still hovering just below 20 degrees. With only a week to go from Thanksgiving, it was a little out of place. But she didn’t put too much into it. Bundling up she grabbed the shovel and made her way around the motel scraping and salting the ice as she went. As she went to start scraping the ice in front of the elderly women Mays room she heard an ear piercing scream. Dropping the shovel she began to pound on the door.

“May? May are you alright?” The scream continued to get louder. “May! You need to open the door.” Digging into her pockets Alice searched for the Master Key. “Don’t worry May I’m coming!”

Pulling the keycard from her pocket her hands shook dropping it twice, before finally opening the door. It hit the wall hard but remained open as Alice rushed to find a now softly whimpering May crumpled on the floor in the bathroom, a red liquid surrounding her, patches of fur and what looked like raw hamburger scattered around the room and hanging from the walls. Alice heard another scream but couldn’t tell where it was coming from until a set of hands grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her back out of the room placing her on the bed. She was still screaming when a set of Hazel eyes met hers. She saw the face and the mouth moving but couldn’t understand what it was saying. A pair of warm hands cupped her face trying to help her focus.

Sam POV

The alarm went off at 630, blaring music to a local radio station playing the oldies. Sitting up the sun was just begin to peek through the curtains. Dean Rolled over hitting the alarm, then rolled back off and fell back to sleep. Pulling the covers back Sam could already feel the brisk cool air seeping in through the vents and the cracks in the wall. Pulling on a Flannel shirt and a clean pair of pants he couldn’t beat the nagging feeling head felt the night before. He’d decided that he would get up early and do some research on the area. See what it was that he was missing.

As he settled into his chair with a warm cup of coffee. He could hear the scratching sound outside the door of someone shoveling snow. A smile crept across his face as he pictured Alice hard at work taking care of the place that she took so much pride in. Recalling the conversation from the night before Sam’s mind swirled with different paths that he could take. He could look into her, was the weird? Was that a stalker move? Searching her past to satisfy his own curiosity, and silence the voice that told him something was not right here. Shaking his head he leaned forward and began to look into the area instead.

Just about to click on a link that looked promising after half an hour of nothing a panicked voice broke his concentration. Jumping from the chair he opened the door just in time to watch as Alice disappears into the next room over. A loud bang of something hitting the wall sent Dean shooting up drawing his gun that he kept under his pillow. His half-lidded eyes searching for the origin of the sound. The bang was quickly followed by a scream, a sound that was all too familiar to the brothers. Sam was out the door before Dean had a chance to pull himself out of bed.

Pushing his way into the room Sam followed the constant scream to the bathroom where a smell of something vile saturated the air.  It was the smell of blood, and flesh, inner leads and rotting meat. The floor and walls were painted with blood, while an elderly woman lay on the ground lips quivering pale her stomach an open festering wound. Alice stood staring down at the dying woman screaming in shock. Taking her by the shoulders Sam pulled her away from the veil sense helping her sit on the bed where she continued to scream. Her whole body shook with such ferocity that it became clear that he needed to snap her out of it before she passed out.

“Alice!” Sam Held her face to help her calm down. “You’re ok. Look at me, you're not hurt, everything is going to be fine.”

Just then Dean came running in holding his gun out as he began sweeping the room. His face in a snarl when the smell hit him. “Son of a bitch!”

*********

Hope you enjoyed the first installment. Feedback would be great!

[themurphyzone]

All Time Travelers Go to Heaven Ch 10

 Ch 10- Paradise Lost

The men led them through the village, surrounding them on all sides so they couldn’t escape. Balthazar and Vinnie kept Milo between them for safety, eyeing the heavy guns several of the men carried. 

Vinnie and Milo’s clothing stood out, brightly colored against the dull landscape. Modern glasses wouldn’t do Vinnie any favors either. 

Balthazar tapped the shoulder of the guard next to him, a stone-faced man with a neatly trimmed beard. “Excuse me, where are you taking us?” 

“The chapel,” he said. 

Funny. From the way the guards were flanking them, Balthazar would’ve assumed they were taking them to prison. 

Scratch that. 

Prison would’ve given them time alone so they could escape through a portal into the 21st century. He couldn’t risk opening a portal now, not when they could easily open fire. 

The chapel towered over the other houses, though just as plain. The only decoration on the exterior was a wooden cross mounted above the door. 

The watch ticked under his shirt, and Balthazar clutched it in a futile attempt to quiet the sound. 

“Reverend Brown, these are trespassers,” a man explained. “Only the Lord’s guidance can steer them off this unholy path.”

Reverend Brown drew a book from the folds of his robes. Balthazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great, couldn’t escape the spiritual lectures from random clergymen even when he was time traveling. 

The men who’d brought them here cast dark looks over their shoulders as they filed out, leaving them with Reverend Brown. 

Milo ran his hand against the rough wooden pews, curiously looking around the one-room chapel.

“Did you sire him?” Reverend Brown asked. 

Balthazar and Vinnie glanced at each other. The real explanation would surely get them declared clinically insane. 

“He’s my son,” Vinnie declared. Balthazar sighed in relief, surprised at the decent lie. Vinnie and Milo didn’t resemble each other at all, but Reverend Brown looked satisfied. 

“And you are?” 

Spoke too soon. 

“A family friend,” Balthazar replied. “The boy’s poor mother fell ill, and we have been traveling far and wide in search of a cure.”

“I see. And has this illness manifested as a result of the child?” Reverend Brown asked. “Demons infect their surroundings, bringing misfortune and destruction wherever they rampage.”

Vinnie balled his fists, and Balthazar held his arm out to warn him not to do anything rash. 

When Balthazar looked up, half the pews were toppled over, splintered into fragments beyond repair. Milo rubbed his neck. “Sorry about that.”

Reverend Brown gasped, jabbing an accusing finger in Milo’s direction. “You defiled a house of worship, witch,” he spat. “This is sacrilege of the highest order, and punishment will rain down on you accordingly.”

“All this for some accidental destruction?” Balthazar asked. “Look, we can help you get more supplies. Chop some wood, stoke the fire, but you will not be accusing our charge.”

Although Reverend Brown was a head shorter than him, Balthazar took a step back when the man leered at him. “Accomplices, the both of you. Begone from this holy site, demons from hell.” 

You can never come back.

That voice....

You have chosen. 

He hadn’t chosen to be murdered. The watch was still closed. How could he hear the voice?

A paradise awaited. The gates are forever closed.

There were several voices. One screaming, two concerned. He didn’t understand them.

The watch ticked on. 

Everything was red. The gargoyles, once used as a line of defense against the foul demons that roamed the land, glowered at him with soulless eyes. Baring their fangs, they crawled off their perch, creeping toward him with all the grace of an experienced predator. 

Lava dripped from their stone bodies, flowing into a river of fire behind them. Balthazar’s heart raced as he found his path of escape blocked by a large boulder. 

They were closer. 

Balthazar pushed the boulder, to no avail. They were closing in. 

There was no escape. 

Closer. 

One winged beast knocked him to the ground with a roar. It raised its talons....

“Balthy! Balthy! Wake up! Wake up, will ya! I can’t do this. Not again. I failed you again. I made a promise I couldn’t keep. You gotta wake up....”

Balthazar groaned. “Dakota, I’m fine....”

It was a flimsy lie and he knew it.

He took note of his surroundings, staring at the high walls of a large barn filled with hay and farming supplies. He laid in a bed of hay, Vinnie sitting next to him.

He didn’t know where Milo was. 

“You call screaming like you were being flayed alive ‘fine’?” Vinnie shouted, yanking his glasses off.  

A tear trickled down his face. 

Balthazar quickly sat up, his mouth open as he struggled to think of something to comfort Vinnie. 

But nothing came out. 

“Your watch.”

Balthazar paled. But there was no use in hiding it now. He took off the strap, running his thumb against the golden surface.

“You didn’t think I noticed you hanging onto this thing,” Vinnie continued. His voice was colder, more distant than Balthazar had ever heard. “That you didn’t clutch your chest every so often. How you never used it to tell time.”

“It wasn’t important. I would’ve told you, but the opportunity never presented itself,” Balthazar muttered. 

Vinnie abruptly stood up, brushing straw off his clothes. “In other words, you’re deliberately hiding something from me. Regardless of what Block thinks, the other agents, and especially you, I’m not stupid. Now answer my question.”

Balthazar avoided Vinnie’s sharp gaze, staring at the dirt floor to the side. “Very well.”

“Where did you get that watch?”

Balthazar hesitated. Of all the times for Vinnie to be focused, he chose now. He ducked his head, looking at every place but his partner. He knew Vinnie deserved to know. 

He’d damaged the trust between them when he rushed off that fateful night. He might as well take a machete to it now and get it over with. 

“Heaven,” he mumbled. 

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “Where?” 

“Heaven!” Balthazar shouted. “When I died...I was given a choice.” 

He was lying again. It was far too late to backpedal. But it was a failsafe. Vinnie didn’t need to know where Balthazar would wind up after his death. 

It wouldn’t be heaven. 

And Vinnie probably wouldn’t find that out until he died. 

They would be separated forever. 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Balthazar asked. “I was given a second chance.”

There was no chance. Orton didn’t offer it then, and he wouldn’t offer it now.

“They let you in heaven,” Vinnie said. “And they gave you the watch.” 

Not gave. Stolen. 

“Yes,” Balthazar said. “I apologize for not telling you sooner.”

Vinnie turned away, his head low. “I need to be alone.”

He left Balthazar in a far corner of the barn. 

Did Milo overhear their conversation? He hoped not. Milo was far too young to be caught up in an adult’s quarrel. 

Balthazar gripped a wooden beam as he stood up, feeling awkward and uncoordinated. Then he heard a horse neigh from somewhere in the barn, followed by a laugh. 

Following the noise, he found Milo stroking a large, white horse’s nose. Milo fed it a carrot, giggling when the vegetable disappeared in seconds. 

“Milo?” Balthazar said. “Would you mind filling me in on what happened?” 

Milo glanced up at him, gently pushing the horse’s nose away from his shoulder. “Sure,” he said. “Are you okay?” 

“Not really,” Balthazar admitted. “Dakota was angry. Best to leave him alone for a bit.”

Milo nodded. “When you blacked out, Reverend Brown thought you were possessed and started shouting for people to take you into the courthouse. Mr. Dakota grabbed you and we hightailed it to this barn just outside the village. You were screaming.”

He looked down, shifting on his feet. “You scared us,” Milo mumbled. 

Balthazar stroked the horse’s long nose to give his hands something to do, so they didn’t tremble with worry over the pain he’d caused his companions. 

“It happened very fast,” Balthazar said quietly. “None of us were prepared.”

Just like last time. He hadn’t been prepared to die. Agents have died on dangerous missions before, but Balthazar never thought he’d be a statistic to that list. 

“It was like the serum,” Milo whispered, his voice barely audible against the sounds of the barn animals. “I was never actually in the middle of a thunderstorm, was I? I realize that now. But it looked real.” He swallowed. “Felt real.”

Balthazar placed a hand on Milo’s shoulder, drawing him closer to his side. 

Funny the way the mind worked. Their experiences weren’t real, but they were so real. 

His vision hadn’t been triggered by the fear serum. There was something else at play here.

“You know this is my first time petting a horse, right?” Milo asked, breaking away from the side hug. Balthazar was glad for the abrupt change in subject. Anything to take his mind off Vinnie for a few minutes. 

“You seemed very eager about it as I recall,” Balthazar said. “He’s a gentle one at least. Some horses aren’t nearly this complacent.”

“Yeah, horse-drawn carriages tend to break whenever I get close to them, and the horses get pretty skittish, so I never really got the chance to pet one,” Milo said. “Did you ever have a horse?”

Balthazar stroked the horse’s velvety snout, dreading this particular memory. “I had a terrible riding experience when I was a teenager. Lost my taste for horses ever since.”

“Did you fall off? Cause I heard the Bureau’s scientists talking about this one guy who fell off a horse and got paralyzed,” Milo said. 

“Yes,” Balthazar muttered. “Look, I was young once too. I had what you’d call a crush on some farm girl. Don’t ask for her name, because I don’t remember. Long story short, I tried to get my horse to jump a creek to impress her and wound up falling in. And you will not repeating what you just heard to anybody.” The horse snorted, and Balthazar glared at it. “That goes double for you.”

Milo giggled. “Cross my heart. I won’t tell.” 

“Good,” Balthazar nodded. “I think I’ve given Dakota adequate space. We need to locate him so we can leave these wretched Puritans and get back to the 21st century. And quickly, so they don’t find us taking shelter here.”

They found Vinnie sitting on a bench next to several tools. He was slumped over, one hand resting on his head as he listlessly traced something in the dirt with a pitchfork. 

“Dakota! We’re leaving,” Balthazar announced, showing him the Transporter, calibrated and ready to go. 

Vinnie didn’t meet his eyes, nor did he give any sign that he’d heard. 

Balthazar stared at him, surprised at Vinnie’s indifference. 

Well, more indifferent than Vinnie was normally. But now wasn’t the time to be stubborn!

Balthazar cleared his throat. “We’re going home. Come on.”

He didn’t budge. 

“Mr. Dakota, can we please go home?” Milo asked. “And no offense, but Balthazar is trying to talk to you. Maybe he’s got something to say?”

“Sorry, kid,” Vinnie sighed, standing up. He folded his arms, still not looking at Balthazar. “I’m not ready yet. Just give me a few hours. Then we’ll talk.”

Milo’s eyes flickered between Balthazar and Vinnie. “You can’t just kiss and make up now?” 

Balthazar sighed, opening the portal, which displayed the parking lot of their apartment. “Sorry. It isn’t your fault, Milo. Best to give it time.”

“I have to agree with Balthazar,” Vinnie said quietly. “I just need to process a few things.”

Milo still looked confused, but accepted the explanation with no argument. 

While sulking wasn’t unusual for Balthazar, it seemed almost unnatural for Vinnie to do it. And he didn’t like it. 

Not to mention being a terrible actor. Vinnie just gave away that he heard everything Balthazar said, for crying out loud! 

They returned to the 21st century in silence, the barn fading away in a mysterious blue light. 

Then they heard voices. 

“Well, did you find them?” A raspy voice demanded. “Those idiots can’t have gotten far!” 

Vinnie immediately pulled Milo behind the shrubs that stood between the sidewalk and apartments, silently taking refuge in the greenery. Balthazar crawled underneath a large bush and held two large, leafy branches in front of him. 

He could only hope they were properly concealed. 

“Not yet,” a man with a flaming red beard grunted. Balthazar stifled a gasp. “Remember, Scarlet and Indigo reported fighting them at the mall.”

He was the one who dropped him off the bridge. 

If he saw Balthazar...or worse, saw Vinnie and Milo, there was no telling what he could do to them. 

His heart racing, Balthazar pinched himself to calm down so he could listen to their plan. 

“They stole the Bureau’s property,” Block snarled. “I want them hunted down. Especially that Cooperdink. He’s so incompetent that he couldn’t even die properly. Red, don’t fail me. You’re one of the few good agents left.”

Property? Incompetent?

Now he really wanted deck that bastard. 

Red nodded. “I contacted Scarlet. We will rendezvous at the abandoned pistachio warehouse to discuss a plan for capturing the rogues. We will not fail.” 

“You’d better not,” Block snarled. “And remember, the Jinx is to be taken alive. No exceptions.”

Car doors slammed, causing Balthazar to jump. A loud engine came to life, and within a few seconds the car peeled downtown. 

Balthazar slowly crept out of the bush, checking his surroundings before emerging completely. 

There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, but no other people. No good hiding places available for anyone to come out an ambush them either. 

“Clear,” Balthazar said. 

Vinnie crawled out first, looking around before helping Milo out of the bush. His exposed legs had patches of dirt stuck to them. Balthazar grimaced as Milo plucked two earthworms stuck to his body and set them gently into the soil. 

Even from a distance, Balthazar could see that someone had taken a weapon to their apartment door and bashed it in completely. 

“We were assigned to that apartment,” Balthazar murmured. “We can’t stay here any longer.”

It was too dangerous to grab any possessions in case they left a few surprises in the apartment. 

They would truly have to be on the run.