#i dug them out my notes from a class I took almost 10 years ago

[pikapeppa]

Alright, why wouldn't Hekarro wanna use Carja glyphs as the Tenakth writing system? The Phincian alphabet is the basis for most of the writing systems in Western Europe - if you got a writing system that works, why not adapt it?

I'M FINALLY ANSWERING THIS ASK TWO MONTHS LATER 😂

For anyone who's curious, the context for this was a post I made a while back in response to an ask regarding whether the Quen might be able to read Chinese, since the Focuses they would have found in the Great Delta would plausibly have been formatted in Chinese. In the tags on the post, I remarked that I had a rant about Hekarro wanting to borrow the Carja writing system. Everbright has asked me to elaborate, and now I'll finally be writing the essay that's been sitting at the back of my mind for like a year LOL.

My thesis here is as follows: it's not the idea of the Tenakth borrowing the Carja writing system that bothers me, necessarily. I take umbrage with the fact that Hekarro seems to think the Tenakth are inferior to the Carja because they aren't a literate society. 

This post is going to get long, so I will put the rest behind a cut to give anyone a break who wants to scroll on past LOL. Also, please note: trigger/content warning for mentions of residential schools in Canada.

First things first: I'm writing this as a non-indigenous Canadian, so I may be writing with biases of my own that I will apologize for in advance. If any members of the cultural groups I'm going to mention should read this and take issue with anything I've said, please do feel free to write me a message here on Tumblr!

Okay, let me set the context here. When Aloy first meets Hekarro, a piece of their conversation is as follows, with the transcript to follow:

Aloy: I’m sorry about Fashav. He seemed like a good man. Hekarro: More than a man. A bridge between Tenakth and Carja. No outlander ever earned our respect as he did. I had hoped he would be my voice in Meridian. That peace with the Carja might become something more. A: An alliance? H: An exchange. The Carja have much we lack. Our deeds are written in ink upon our bodies. Our memories die with our flesh. But the Carja never forget. Their deeds are written in book and scroll. A:  You wanted to learn from them? H: As I learned from Fashav. He will be missed.

This conversational exchange has always bothered me, because inherent in this exchange is the idea that Hekarro views the Tenakth as being lacking compared to the Carja -- that the Carja are superior to the Tenakth because of the fact that they're able to read and write, rather than tattooing their history on their skin. This statement reflects a bias that feels very 'colonizer' to me in an icky way. Being a literate society does not inherently make you superior to a society that doesn't use writing, but that exact idea has been used tons of times in history to argue that the indigenous cultures of a place are less advanced/less intelligent/less valuable than the people who are coming in and trying to force their ideals, including literacy, on the indigenous group(s). In the context of Canada, for instance, Kirmayer et al. (2009) wrote that "aboriginal peoples were viewed as incapable of understanding and participating in democratic government, thereby motivating efforts to 'civilize' and assimilate them into mainstream Canadian society," with that mainstreaming process including residential schools: institutions that took indigenous children from their families and communities and placed them into segregated spaces where they were forbidden from speaking their native languages, practicing their traditional customs, and from contacting their families at all.

This is especially irksome to me because the Tenakth tradition of tattooing (or "ink", as they call it in-game), is based on tattooing traditions IRL with an extremely rich historical and cultural background. The most obvious similarity is to Polynesian tattoo (or "tatau") practices, which I'll focus on here, but similar methods with equally rich histories exist in the Philippines and in Japan. 

One of the most striking things about Polynesian tatau practices is that it's not just the act of striking ink into the skin that matters; it's the meaning behind the act of getting a tattoo, and the embracing of community and identity inherent in the practice. As one Samoan tatau artist said, "it's important to know the meaning behind the symbols of our traditional tatau so you have a deeper understanding of the significance of what you're wearing. Each 'maman' or each pattern has its own meaning and story behind it." Polynesian artists also highlight the fact that these traditions are passed through the generations for thousands of years, and that those who wear tatau are "wearing the maps of our ancestors." As another artist said, Polynesian tatau is "a reconnection to all my ancestors and everybody behind me, because I'm not only speaking for me, but a whole generation of kids that are like me, that are getting Polynesian tattoos to reconnect." 

Tenakth tattoos, like Polynesian tattoos, are a way of recording history and lore -- not only one's own stories and victories, but those of the people that are important to a warrior, as evidenced by Kotallo stating that he plans to ink Varl's deeds on his own skin in tribute. I also personally think that it's culturally fitting for the Tenakth to record important history on their bodies, since the Tenakth place such emphasis on physical strength. It makes logical sense that they would record their proudest deeds on the thing that they view with such pride, i.e. their physical bodies. Hekarro's statement that the Tenakth are "lacking" because they don't record their history "in book and scroll" feels like a devaluation of the Tenakth's culturally-specific method of recording history, much in the way that colonizing societies have devalued the oral traditions of North American indigenous groups. Oral traditions are an extremely important aspect of many indigenous cultures; a group that provides indigenous culture training has stated that "certain stories are never written down, which preserves the tradition of sharing knowledge, culture, and history orally. These stories are the fabric of the community’s history, knowledge and culture, and some are thousands of years old. In some cultures, if a story is written down it is degraded." By ignoring this rich tradition and imposing written records of those stories, they would be degraded and rendered less than what they're meant to be.

Now, some of you might be asking whether it was an oversight/mistake on the part of the Guerrilla Game writers that Hekarro made this accidentally-denigrating comment toward his own tribe. Honestly, I do think it was an oversight, and one that I find disturbing, because it seems to stem from a blind spot that GG isn't aware of. This isn't the only time that content coming from the Horizon world seems to follow this 'colonizer'-like idea of certain societies being more advanced and superior to others. In the concept art book for Horizon Zero Dawn, for instance, there's a description of the Carja as follows (p. 47), transcript below:

 [Transcript: Among all the tribes of Horizon Zero Dawn, the Carja Sundom boasts the most advanced culture. Using the advantages of their geographical position, the Carja have developed agriculture and trade while other tribes still rely on hunting and gathering. The Carja's impregnable capital, Meridian, provides security for a civilized population. Artisans and traders flourish here, serving sophisticated, well-to-do citizens. Carja civilization towers over the other tribes, just as the Sun of their religion rises above the horizon of their mesa valley.]

Even worse, there’s this passage from p. 48, where the non-Carja tribes are called “primitive”.Transcript below:

[Transcript: Through ages of perfecting the techniques of machine plate-working, the Carja have developed the most sophisticated way: to apply the materials of mechanical fauna. While more primitive tribes would roughly affix more or less useful machine parts on their garments, Meridian artisans interweave fine fitted machine elements into comfortable and functional pieces.]

Quotes like this make me worry that there are people at GG who aren't recognizing their own bias inherent in the description of the Carja compared to other tribes. There seems to be a lack of awareness here about the dangerous underpinnings of seeing one culture as more "advanced" than another just because it is more dominant or mainstream. As Shaw (2001) states, "in not according recognition, let alone respect, to the distinctive linguistic and cultural identities that have shaped First Nations peoples, the majority culture continues to exert a significantly negative influence on identity, on self-esteem, on pride in one's cultural heritage, and on one's sense of self and of place in the broader society."

To summarize to some degree: I don't have a problem per se with the Tenakth borrowing the Carja writing system. My qualms come from the idea that the idea of the Carja being superior will come along with that borrowing, thereby devaluing the rich tradition of Tenakth tattoos. As Hale (1992) states, "while it is good and commendable to record and document fading traditions, and in some cases this is absolutely necessary to avert total loss of cultural wealth, the greater goal must be that of safeguarding diversity in the world of people. For that is the circumstance in which diverse and interesting intellectual traditions can grow."

TLDR: Tenakth tattoos are just as valid and important a method of recording lore and history as Carja writing, and the Tenakth are not inferior or primitive for not having a tradition of reading/writing. I think Hekarro's comment about the Tenakth being "lacking" is reflective of a blind spot at GG that I hope will be addressed in future games. 

If you came this far, THANK YOU FOR READING and accept this cookie as thanks for staying with me! 🍪😂 A friendly final note: do be warned that any replies or comments to the effect of "but literate societies ARE inherently better than illiterate ones" will be removed and the writers of such comments may be blocked, depending on their intentions as I read them. 🥰

-- love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika xoxo

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 9

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, fingering

Author’s Note: If you’ve been following me for a year or more, you guys know that I always upload something on my birthday so here you go! Here’s an extra long part 9 to make up for how short part 8 was and the Italics indicate a flashback! I hope you guys enjoy it!!

When you woke up the next morning, you were in a bed that was in a room that you didn’t recognize. You sat up, stretching your arms out as everything that happened the day before came rushing back to you. The last thing that you remembered though, was coming to Jimin’s apartment and falling asleep cuddled up to him.

Using the context clues, you figured that you were in Jimin’s room since you saw several photos of Jimin’s brother and niece around the room, as well as some of an older couple that you assumed to be his parents. Pulling the duvet off of your body, you climbed out of his bed and walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. You were able to hear the telltale sound of bacon cooking so you followed the sounds and smells into the kitchen, where Jimin was standing in front of the stove.

“Hey,” you spoke up, making Jimin jump in surprise as he looked over his shoulder. 

“Good morning,” he smiled as he recovered and you walked further into the kitchen in order to stand next to him. “Hungry?”

“Not really,” you shrugged, not feeling like you had much of an appetite. 

“Well, I’m making bacon and pancakes, in case you do decide that you’re hungry,” Jimin told you and you nodded. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, I did actually,” you replied. “That’s your room, right?”

“It is.”

“Where’d you sleep then?”

“On the couch,” Jimin replied as he grabbed a plastic spatula, flipping one of the pancakes that was in one of the pans on the stove. “This is only a one-bedroom apartment.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you scolded him lightly. “I’m the one who barged over here.”

“You didn’t barge over here, I invited you,” Jimin chuckled. “And you’re my guest so you automatically get the comfy place.”

“Well, thank you,” you smiled and before you could overthink it, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin for a few seconds before you pulled away. He looked over at you with a small smirk, before the sound of the bacon frying in it’s pan became overwhelming. 

“How about you go sit at the island over there while I get this food done,” Jimin suggested as he gestured to it with his free hand. “And then I’ll fix you a small plate.”

“I don’t know if I’ll eat it all,” you admitted.

“That’s ok, just eat whatever you can manage,” he told you and you nodded before turning around and walking over to the large island that divided the kitchen and the living room, taking a seat on one of the stools that was pushed against it. You set your elbows on top of the island and then placed your chin in your hands, watching silently as Jimin moved around the kitchen trying to finish breakfast. 

About 10 minutes later, he was done and he walked over to the island carrying two plates, setting one down in front of you before taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“This looks amazing,” you complimented, staring down at the plate that was covered with two pancakes, a few strips of bacon, and some strawberries as well. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jimin shrugged as he dug into his own plate, not wasting any time in eating his food. “I figured you could use it after everything that happened yesterday.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, cutting into your pancakes and taking a bite. “It still doesn’t feel like everything that happened yesterday, actually happened. You know?”

“I get it,” Jimin replied. “I had a lot of those days in the Navy.”

“And I’m just so...angry,” you added. 

“Do you think that maybe you’re ready to explain all of this to me?” Jimin wondered and you looked over at him, and he held his hands up in mock surrender. “You said later.”

“And it’s later,” you finished for him with a chuckle, setting down your fork and knife before turning the stool so that you were able to look at him head on. “Should I start from the beginning?”

“It’d help,” Jimin agreed as he took another bite of his pancake. 

“Ok so like I told you yesterday, Namjoon and Hyejin had dated for most of high school and the very beginning of college before Namjoon broke it off with her,” you said. “Namjoon and I met the next semester, in an intro political science class.”

“Did you two start dating soon after?” Jimin asked and you shook your head.

“Actually, me and Namjoon were just really close friends for the first few months of us knowing each other,” you told him. “He was still pretty butt hurt about the whole breakup with Hyejin and I wasn’t looking for a relationship because I was too focused on getting my degree. A few months into us being close though, my parents died in a car accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Y/N-ah,” Jimin sighed, reaching over and setting his hand on your knee. 

“It’s ok,” you assured him, setting your hand on top of his and you couldn’t help but to smile when he flipped his hand over and intertwined his fingers with yours. “After that, I was pretty much on my own since I’m an only child and don’t have any other immediate family so I just kind of..attached myself to Namjoon more. He didn’t mind though,” you chuckled as you thought back to your college days. “He may not seem like it, but he was a big softie back then and he’d almost faint if I did something as simple as hold his hand.”

“That’s cute,” Jimin laughed. 

“So we started dating officially and once we graduated college, Namjoon proposed to me and we got married,” you continued. “I managed to go to law school, pass the bar, and establish my law firm while Namjoon began his political career and things were good for the first three years of our marriage.”

“When did things start to change?” Jimin questioned.

“When he made the official announcement that he was going to be running for President,” you responded. “After that, he was gone more often, giving speeches and meeting people, so we barely saw each other. Things happened and our marriage just kind of started to....crumble, in terms of communication.”

“Is that when he cheated with Hwasa the first time?” Jimin guessed and you nodded.

“It was like a month before the election and I caught the two of them in our bed, just like I did yesterday,” you laughed ruefully. “Ironic right?”

“I was thinking more like disrespectful but whatever works,” Jimin shrugged.

“I tried to kick her ass but Namjoon wouldn’t let me get to her,” you huffed. “After that, I was ready to leave him. I had packed up all of my shit and I was ready to just....walk away.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Namjoon’s father, Kim Sang-hoon.”

............................

You were in your and Namjoon’s old house, packing up the last of your belongings so that you could take it over to Momo’s house, which is where you had been staying ever since you’d caught your husband in bed with his ex-girlfriend.

As you were putting the last few of your knick knacks into a cardboard box, you heard the doorbell ring. You had hoped that it wasn’t Namjoon, who you had texted before coming back to the house and explicitly told him not to come back until you texted him that you were gone because you didn’t want to see him. However, you realized that Namjoon wouldn't ring the doorbell since he had a key. Leaving your box on the bed, you walked out of the bedroom and into the front hall, walking over to the door and pulling it open.

“Sang-hoon,” you said in surprise and Sang-hoon nodded his head to you.

“Hello Y/N-ah,” he smiled.

“Hi,” you bowed, greeting him properly before holding the door open. “Please come in.” Sang-hoon thanked you before stepping inside and you shut the door behind him. “Can I get you some tea or anything?”

“No thank you Y/N-ah,” he declined. “I actually came here to talk to you.”

“I have to admit, I’m not sure why,” you confessed.

“Namjoon told me about what happened,” Sang-hoon announced and you sighed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“And you’re here to try to get me to take him back?” You guessed.

“Ah, think of it more as a...proposition,” Sang-hoon replied and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Can we sit?”

“Sure,” you nodded, gesturing into the living room. The two of you walked into the living room, you sitting down on the couch while Sang-hoon sat down in one of the armchairs. 

“So, I know that you’re upset and hurting,” Sang-hoon started. 

“I’m pissed,” you clarified and Sang-hoon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

“And that’s completely understandable Y/N-ah,” he assured you. “But I have to ask you, have you thought about what a separation and potential divorce could do to Namjoon’s chances of winning the election?”

“I don’t care,” you chuckled in disbelief. “He cheated on me, and with Hyejin! Out of anyone, I would think that you’d understand. Being as though you were the reason why he broke up with her all those years ago.”

“Trust me, I don’t know why my son went back to that...woman when he has a perfectly suitable wife in you,” Sang-hoon agreed. “But, my son is also a man and he’s his father’s son.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that you’ve cheated on Mi-sook before?” You questioned, referring to Namjoon’s mother.

“Yes, and she knows about it,” Sang-hoon confirmed. “Because we have an agreement.”

“An agreement where you can cheat on your wife?” You shot back.

“It’s not cheating if the marriage is open,” Sang-hoon replied and you just looked at him. “Mi-sook’s and I’s marriage has been open, oh, since about a year after Namjoon was born.”

“That long?” You wondered in awe and Sang-hoon nodded.

“When you’re married to someone in politics, everything becomes a deal of some sorts,” Sang-hoon explained. 

“So you’re suggesting that I come up with a ‘deal’ that’s similar to the one that you have with Mi-sook?” You said.

“I figured that it’d be hard for you so I talked to Namjoon and we came up with some basic ground rules,” Sang-hoon told you and your eyes widened. “You can feel free to add your own as well.”

“Are you serious?” You demanded to know. “You really think that I want to stay with him after he’s broken our vows?”

“If you think about it Y/N-ah, it’s really in the best interest of you both.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“For Namjoon, obviously he wouldn’t have to go through the public embarrassment of a divorce and he’d win the election, which you and I both know he has in the bag otherwise. And as for you, you’ll get to continue living the life to which you have grown accustomed, while also being able to go out and have your own fun.”

“First of all, when Namjoon and I got married, I decided then that I didn’t want to have my own ‘fun’ anymore because I had found my soulmate, or so I thought,” you told him. “And secondly, I don’t need Namjoon’s money or the recognition that would come along with being First Lady. I had a very successful law practice before I gave it up for your son, if you remember correctly.”

“Look Y/N-ah, I just came here to urge you to think about it,” Sang-hoon said as he stood up from the armchair. 

“And what if I decide to say fuck you, fuck your son, and leave anyways?” You wondered out of pure curiosity. 

“Well, then we’d be force to spin everything to make it look like you were the unfaithful one,” Sang-hoon shrugged. “You know me Y/N-ah, and you know I could ruin your law career if you force my hand. That’s why I came here to talk to you but I can see that you still need a few days to get back into your proper mindset so I’ll see myself out. Have a good rest of your day.”

............................

“So, it was Namjoon’s father who basically manipulated you into that ‘agreement’?” Jimin summed up and you nodded your head. 

“After he left, I thought about it and I realized that he was right. Sang-hoon is a decent person but he has some fishy ass associates and I knew that he could make it to where I wouldn’t be able to sustain myself if I opened my practice again,” you explained. “And besides, despite how angry I was at Namjoon, I still loved him and I didn’t want him to lose the election because of me. So I stayed.”

“What were the rules that Sang-hoon had told you about?” Jimin asked. 

“Oh, that Namjoon and I were both able to see other people, albeit discreetly, as much as we wanted. Condoms had to be used during any encounter, people that either of us are close to are off-limits, and we’d have to keep up the facade of being happily married for the entirety of Namjoon’s five-year term. I also added the stipulation that Namjoon wasn’t allowed to see or speak to Hyejin anymore too, but that was mostly me being a petty bitch who just wanted something to make me feel better.”

“And he broke that rule,” Jimin supplied.

“He did, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do about it,” you sighed. “I’ll admit, I clung to Namjoon once my parents died partly because I just didn’t want to be alone but now it feels like I’ve gotten myself stuck in a cage that I can’t get out of.”

“Come here,” Jimin said, pulling your hand and pulling you into his chest before he wrapped his arms around you. You allowed yourself to relax against him, wrapping your arms around him as well and allowing him to just hold you. 

“Baby bird,” Jimin spoke up suddenly a few minutes later and you pulled away from him just enough so that you could look at him.

“Huh?”

“You know how baby birds are always so eager to fly, even when they don’t know how yet?” Jimin explained and you nodded your head. “You’re like a baby bird who wants to fly away but you just aren’t sure how to yet.”

“That’s....such a good way of describing it,” you smiled softly. “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” Jimin said, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly. When he tried to pull away, you reached up and set one of your hands on his neck, pulling him back to you. He moaned against your lips, placing both of his hands on your cheeks as the two of you kissed for what felt like forever. When you finally pulled away, Jimin had this insanely wide grin on his face.

“How about you finish your breakfast and then we can do something fun?” Jimin suggested and you nodded your head.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, leaning forward to kiss him one last time before turning back to your pancakes.

............................

“Don’t open your eyes.”

“You’re putting something slimy on my face and I don’t want it in my eyes so they’re definitely closed.”

“I’m telling Jung-hee that you called her face mask slimy,” Jimin threatened as he used a small plastic spatula to spread the homemade face mask onto your face. Jimin had come up with the bright idea of doing a face mask in order to help you decompress, and you couldn’t say that you completely hated the idea. So that’s why you were laid out on Jimin’s couch, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of his joggers, with Jimin kneeling on the floor next to you.

“Please don’t,” you begged. “I’m actually genuinely afraid of what would happen if I got on her bad side.”

“I won’t tell her, for the price of a kiss,” Jimin smirked and when you puckered your lips out, Jimin leaned over and pressed a quick peck to your lips. Once you felt him move onto to spreading the mask onto the bottom half of your face, you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

“Can I ask you something?” You wondered.

“Go for it.”

“Are you afraid of this?” You asked and you saw his eyebrow quirk upwards.

“Afraid of what?”

“This..attraction between us, I guess,” you shrugged lamely. 

“Not really. Well ok, I take that back,” he corrected himself as he looked down at you. “I am attracted to my boss’s wife, which is literally like the number one thing that I was told not to do when I accepted this job.”

“You were told not to fall for me?”

“I was told not to develop close personal relationships with you or Namjoon,” Jimin told you. “Being too close to someone that you’re protecting can make it hard to do your job effectively.”

“I’ve heard that before,” you nodded. 

“Are you afraid of it?” Jimin turned the question back on you.

“No,” you shook your head. “After everything that’s happened, I’m kind of over feeling bad because of Namjoon so I don’t really have any reservations about it.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re comfortable with the fact that you like me?” Jimin questioned.

“I am,” you smiled. “Are you comfortable with liking me?”

“More than comfortable,” he assured you and you just watched him as he finished up with your face mask. “Now, we have to let it set for 10 minutes and I have something that we could do while we wait.”

“What’s that?” You wondered. 

“Sit up for me,” he requested and you did so, sitting up and swinging your legs around so that you were sitting upright on the couch. Jimin then set his hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly as he kissed you firmly. You instantly responded, reaching up and looping your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Soon enough, his lips had moved away from your lips and down to your neck, sucking at the skin there.

“Oh, that feels good,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back in order to give him easier access. 

“Yeah?” He murmured huskily, and you almost felt yourself shiver from how much his voice had dropped. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed and Jimin licked a wide stripe up your neck. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked.

“You are,” you giggled.

“I know, but I meant more,” he said, moving his hands so that they were tracing the band of the joggers that you had on, and your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers on the skin of your stomach. “Like here, and lower.”

“It’s been a while,” you admitted sheepishly and Jimin pulled his face out of your neck in order to look at you.

“It’s ok. We don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” he promised. “But I would like to make you feel good.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I trust you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing you again. As the two of you made out, one of Jimin’s hands slipped underneath the band of your joggers, his fingertips pressing against the fabric of your panties.

“O-Oh,” you exhaled breathlessly as Jimin gently rubbed over your clothed clit. 

“Can I pull them aside?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded wordlessly, giving him permission. He did so, the both of you letting out simultaneous gasps when he touched your clit.

“Damn Y/N-ah,” Jimin grumbled deeply. “You’re so wet.”

“I told you, it’s been a while,” you sighed, enjoying the feeling of him rubbing your clit firmly.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbled, and it almost seemed as though he was talking to himself and not you. You felt his fingers leave your clit and trail downwards, lightly rubbing the length of your slit. You were working up the courage to ask him to put one inside of you when he took the initiative and just did it, sinking the tip of his middle finger inside of you. 

“Oh my God,” you hissed, making Jimin look up at you.

“This ok?” He checked in.

“More than ok,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Feels so good.”

“I’m glad baby,” he whispered and you didn’t miss the term of affection. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for the last two months.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyes fluttering closed as Jimin began to thrust his finger in and out of you. 

“Ever since the day that I met you in Namjoon’s office,” Jimin confirmed. “You had on that sexy green sweater dress that shows off your legs, and all I could do was imagine how good they’d look wrapped around me.” 

“Jimin,” you gasped, feeling yourself becoming wetter as he fingered you. “Another finger please.”

“Whatever you want,” he smirked, pausing the movements of his middle finger and pushing his pointer finger into you alongside it. You immediately clenched around the digits, and the desire to come became almost overwhelming.

“Give it to me,” you begged, opening your legs wider and hooking your ankles over Jimin’s lower back. “Fuck me Jimin.”

“Fuck, you have no idea how sexy you sound right now,” Jimin grumbled as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. 

“Oh, that’s so good,” you praised him, leaning forward and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth as he fucked you.

“You want me to make you come baby bird?” Jimin wondered and you nodded your head rapidly.

“Please, please.”

“Look down and watch me finger fuck you,” he instructed and you did as he said, looking down in between the two of you, where you could see the outline of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy. The sight only turned you on more, and you found yourself moaning louder and louder.

“Please Jimin, don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come all over my fingers baby,” he encouraged and with a few more thrusts of his fingers, that’s exactly what you did. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and he didn’t stop until you reached down and grabbed ahold of his wrist.

“Too much,” you chuckled weakly, making Jimin smile fondly at you. 

“Good girl,” he told as he pulled his fingers out of you and out of the joggers that you had on. As he brought his hand up, you were slightly embarrassed to see your juices on his fingers but nothing could have prepared you to watch him stick his fingers in his mouth and suck them clean. 

“Tastes amazing,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned playfully, reaching up and pushing his shoulder. “Give me a few minutes to recover and I’ll reciprocate.”

“You don’t have to do that Y/N-ah,” Jimin waved you off. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“You sure?” You asked.

“Definitely and besides, it’s been over 10 minutes and there’s no telling what Jung-hee put in this mask besides what’s on the label so we should get it rinsed off,” Jimin smiled. “And then you can shower again. I’ll give you more clothes and everything.”

“Thanks Jimin, for everything,” you told him.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing you one last time before standing up and helping you off of the couch to go rinse your mask off. 

............................

Tag List:  @toddsgirl27 @leftieaquarius @joyfulkmusicfan @jennyjq @xcharlottemikaelsonx @pop228 @belatona @babebri144 @dragonqueen01 @paolaa9700 @yiarsan @sunshinein17 @daydreambrliever @lyralefayc @weirdestpersoninearth @peachesandcreamsthings @missseoulite @ramengrace @minyoongi-infiresme @0minabean0 @korkanswers @dchimminie @mysr3 @emily2404xx @leilaakk @vonvi-blog @btsxdoll @heartfeltscribblings @nooooooooona

[speuradair]

After School Lesson | M.N.

(Author’s Note- This is a reupload of a fic I posted a few months ago. I realized that it was deleted at some point? I’m not sure how or why, but here it is again lol)

Word Count: 3.1k

Contains: Death mention, swearing, angst, injury

Requested: by @technolilly​

“Hi! How about a Makoto X Reader where Makoto, Kyoko, and the reader were the three most suspicious people in the Mukuro trial. During the trial, Reader takes the blame off Makoto but at the last second Kyoko throws the reader under the bus, meaning everyone voted for reader so she was executed? Alter ego saves her and then Makoto and Kyoko rescue her from the garbage? Basically just make the first half really angsty and then have a happy reunion? Feel free to change anything you want! Tysm! “

-

“Being optimistic is the only thing I’m good at.” - Makoto Naegi

-

Thousands of horrific incidents happened everyday. People got attacked, things got stolen, accidents happened. It was just a fact of life. Yet somehow, even after hearing news reports of heinous crimes everyday of your almost eighteen years of life, you’re still never prepared for anything horrific to happen to you.

Then again, this kind of thing was recognizably unprecedented. In all of those newscasts you’d heard, both actively and passively, you’d never heard about anything like this. How could you have possibly prepared to be thrown into the midst of a Killing Game? 

Though it was hard to keep track of the days while being secluded away, you were certain you’d been trapped in Hope’s Peak Academy for at least a month. There had been over 730 hours to process this, but it still didn’t feel real. Maybe on some level you were subconsciously clinging onto a false shred of hope that this was just a night terror, or maybe your mind just wasn’t willing to admit that things really were this dire. Regardless of the reasoning, you’d spent your days here in an unlikely mix of dread and apathy. You were both hyper-aware and numb. 

And somehow, even in moments of heightened tension like this one, you found yourself spacing out and losing small chunks of time. You hadn’t even noticed you’d zoned out at first, and you certainly hadn’t intended to, but you realized you’d missed the last minute or so of the Class Trial. In circumstances like this, not catching a minute’s worth of conversation could have been a deadly mistake.

“Without my room key, I couldn’t have possibly put the locker key in there myself.”

Kirigiri was still debating Byakuya’s claim that she must’ve killed Mukuro, as the key to the locker holding the believed murder weapon was found in her room. Thankfully, that meant you couldn’t have missed anything too revolutionary. You took this to be reassuring and allowed your gaze to deviate from the two arguing over to the brown haired boy standing at the podium beside yours. The trial was in full swing and Makoto looked as pensive as everyone in the room did, but he still remembered to keep a tight, reassuring grip on your hand as you stood in the space next to his. While preoccupied with pinning the culprit, there was still a part of his mind focused on comforting you. 

“Does no one have any objections? Do you accept what Kirigiri is saying?” 

After receiving only silence , Byakuya sighed. “I see. We have no choice but to accept it. It wasn’t Kirigiri who put the locker key in her room, but someone else.”

“But.. who is ‘someone else’? Toges, you had Kiri’s key, right?” Hiro questioned. 

“Yes, but I have an alibi. After 10 p.m., I was with you all. It’s not possible for me to have murdered Mukuro Ikusaba or to have put the key in Kirigiri’s room.”

“Then who did put the key in Kiri’s room?” Byakuya was quick to answer Hiro again. “There’s only one reasonable possibility- He had the key with him and pretended as though he found it in Kirigiri’s room.” “You’re talking about... Naegi?” Aoi’s voice cracked a bit as she spoke, a look not unlike betrayal clouding over her soft features. 

“That’s the only explanation.”

“That’s not possible,” You spoke up without a second thought, though your voice was weaker than you had intended, “While we were investigating in the bio lab, Makoto gave me his jacket, and there definitely wasn’t anything in his pockets then. We went straight to the garden so he could meet with Byakuya after that, so he couldn’t have stopped to get it. If it wasn’t in his jacket, where else would he have been able to hide that bulky key without you noticing he had it?”

“Hm, I suppose that is a fair point. It would have been rather difficult to conceal it just beneath his shirt..” Byakuya looked away again in thought, seemingly satisfied with your reasoning.

“He actually took off his jacket? I didn’t think he ever took that thing off...”

“Oh yeah, he totally did! (Name) was still wearing it when they came into the garden! She even had her hands in the pockets,” Aoi confirmed to Yasuhiro, her voice brighter now that her friend didn’t seem like the culprit. 

“You had his jacket, (name)?” Kyouko raised her hand to her chin in thought, “It’s true that Makoto clearly didn’t have the key in his pocket when he gave her his jacket, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t in his pocket when he got it back.”

“Huh?” 

Other than Makoto, Kirigiri was the student you trusted the most. You’d covered for her multiple times, and followed her command even when you didn’t understand her motives or reasoning. You had offered to let her stay in your room with you last night when Byakuya confiscated her key. In a normal high school scenario, you wouldn’t have hesitated to call her one of your best friends. 

She couldn’t possibly be implying what you thought… right? 

“If the key wasn’t in his pocket this morning and he never stopped back at his dorm, he couldn’t have had it when the murder took place. Yet somehow it was in his pocket by the time he needed to plant it in my room,” she spoke with an almost chilling certainty. “There was only one person who would have had the opportunity to pass the key off to him in time.”

She sounded calm, not at all like someone accusing their friend of murder. 

“Hold on-” Makoto raised his hands defensively, unintentionally tugging the one in your grasp away rather harshly. He wasn’t happy when he was under suspicion, but now she was accusing you? 

But Kyouko didn’t yield. 

“Makoto was the only person who could have placed the key in my room, but there’s only one person who could have had it when Mukuro was killed. There’s also only one person that Makoto would be willing to cover for- his girlfriend.”

“What?!” you practically spit out your response. 

“H-hold on a second! That’s not what happened!” Makoto was reeling. “Let’s think things through again! There’s something at work behind the scenes here- there has to be! This whole class trial doesn’t make any sense, don’t you guys agree?! Mukuro Ikusaba, who we’d never seen before, suddenly shows up dead… and there’s a class trial for it?! A- and Kirigiri was saying, too, that this is all a trap set by the Puppetmaster! So it’s gotta be-” 

Monokuma’s shrill voice cut off Makoto’s desperate rambling. “Okay! Time’s up!”

“What?”

“Time’s uuuup! The Class Trial is oooover! So there’s no need to talk about anything else!” 

“W- what the hell? We’re out of time?” Makoto replied first, your reaction trailing quickly after. 

“Hold on, what do you mean? That’s not fair!”

“We’ve never had a time limit!” Suddenly even Kyouko looked panicked, her restraint and conviction having vanished as the trail was definitively ended. There was no going back. 

“All thanks to your tardiness, Kirigiri! ‘Cause of you, we were tight on time! With that said, you guys, it’s Ballot Time! Please cast your ballot using the switch in front of you!”

Makoto’s green eyes met yours as you both turned towards each other at the same time. The look of pure trepidation and disbelief etched onto his features must’ve mirrored yours perfectly. 

“Ballot… time?”

-

“I’m… the culprit?” your voice was soft, almost too quiet for even your boyfriend beside you to hear it. 

“N-no, that’s not right, guys-” Makoto was immediately shaking his head in shock and confusion, his hand reaching out for yours again desperately as he tried to make a last minute plea for them to believe him. Your words cut him off though, the panic fully setting in. 

“That’s not right! I didn’t do it! Th- this doesn’t make any sense!” 

“It’s time for another super exciting, heart-pounding punishment!!”

Your gaze directly snapped to Kirigiri, who looked even paler than usual- as if the weight of what her lies had caused was setting in. You’d had her back this entire time, and she blamed you. She framed you.  “W- why me?”

“I have no illusions for earning your forgiveness, because all of this is my fault..” her response was simple and to the point, just like her answers always were. She was acting like she usually did, except that she’d just betrayed you in the most brutal way possible. 

“Kirigiri, tell them-” Makoto made his own frantic appeal for her to clear this up, to do anything to stop them from ripping you away from him. He moved urgently, throwing his arms around you and clutching you to his chest. They couldn’t just execute you when you weren’t the actual culprit, right? This wasn’t how this game was supposed to be played. 

Yet Monokuma insisted, and you were forcefully dragged away from your boyfriend’s secure embrace. 

“Let’s get the ball rollin’! It’s punishment time!”

You have been found guilty. Time for the punishment! 

The sharp fibers of the ropes around your legs and wrists dug into your skin, dispelling any chance you had at convincing yourself that this was just some bad dream. You could feel the frayed rope stabbing your skin, the sputtering of the conveyor belt below your desk, the shake that spread through the room with every 

Thud 

thud

thud

Of the giant machine pounding into the ground behind you. 

Almost against your own will, you were flailing against the chair, screaming and sobbing, begging for help. No one could help you, no matter how hard you screamed, and flailing only made the sharp rope cut into your skin more than it already was. 

This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. You’d promised Makoto that the two of you would take down the Mastermind and get out of here together, yet somehow, you’d ended up in the execution chair. For a crime you didn’t commit. This was it, this was how you went. You had lost and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You were going to be blackened, and you had to accept it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to calm yourself, though your chest still shook with sobs. 

You thought of Makoto. You thought of how he’d been so reassuring and supportive during your time here. How he’d pull you into his side when you got too overwhelmed, or hold your hand when you investigated together. How warm he felt when he’d squeeze you into a tight hug, or how nice his jacket smelled when he let you wear it. How he could never tie his uniform tie correctly. How he had looked at you with pure love in his eyes that day while lying together under a sakura tree outside of the school, with the warm sun filtering through the petals onto your skin… when had that happened?

But a sudden new sound startled you and you opened your eyes without thinking. The heavy foot of the machine had frozen, and was now giving off a grating buzzing noise as if it was trying with all its power to still move, to still crush. 

You almost missed it in your surprise, but out of the corner of your eye you caught a familiar face flash onto the screen in front of you. Alter Ego? 

Then you were falling. The foot had stopped, but the conveyor belt had kept going and the desk rolled off of it, sending you flying backwards into the dark. 

Your eyes opened slowly, fogginess swelling in your mind as you tried to remember what happened and where you were.  Unfortunately, it only took a few moments for the violent memories of the trial and execution to come flooding back to you. The crushing block had halted, but then you fell backwards, still tied tight to the old wooden desk. Splintered bits of that desk lied around you, seemingly having shattered on impact. That same impact must've knocked you unconscious, but you were most definitely alive. Alter Ego had stopped the execution. 

You weren’t sure where you had ended up at first; it wasn’t a part of the school you’d seen before. Considering the rancid smell and large piles of garbage, there was really only one place it could be- the bottom of the trash chute. 

Pushing through the pounding headache pulsing from your neck, you stood to your feet to study your surroundings. Did you still have to watch out for Monokuma and the Mastermind, or had they presumed you to be dead? Had they all presumed you to be dead? Naturally your thoughts returned to Makoto- had he assumed you were dead? That thought made you feel even more nauseous than you had been from your probable concussion. There was a chance that everyone had written off trying to help you, even your boyfriend. You wanted to believe that he wouldn’t stop looking for you until he was absolutely certain you were gone, but your frayed nerves coaxed you to dwell on that feeling, that despair, of being totally forgotten. 

Salty tears slipped onto your lips, the sudden taste snapping you back to reality a bit. You hadn’t even realized you were crying at first. What was the point of crying now? That wasn’t going to accomplish anything other than intensifying your dehydration. The only productive thing you could do was to search for food, water or a way out. 

The large door at the front of the room was bolted shut. Of course it was. All of the food was rotten. Of course it was. With no way out and no food to eat, the only thing you could do was to give into the exhaustion- both mental and physical. 

So you slept. You hadn't really slept since this killing game had started, and though this wasn't any less tense of a situation, it was the first time in a while where there wasn't anything to do. There was no investigating to do or people to watch out for. Down here, the only thing you could do was feed that need to sleep. 

A loud thud shook the ground and startled you awake, your eyes immediately scanning the area cautiously. Nothing looked different at first, but you were certain that something heavy had just fallen down. Then you noticed that all too familiar green jacket peeking out of what must have been a new pile of trash bags. 

"M- Makoto?!" 

He groaned for a second, trying to recover from the rough landing, before his green eyes flickered open. They met with yours, and somehow, even in this twisted situation, his gaze still made your heart race. 

"(Name)! You're okay!" The clumsy boy scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, trying not to slip on the trash he'd fallen down with. He barely wasted a second to steady himself before throwing his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as tightly as he could.  

It almost didn't feel real, like maybe you'd hallucinated him out of desperation and hunger from the last day or so of being down here alone. You hugged him back just as tightly, as if he might slip away if you didn't cling to him. Despite the lingering scent of trash around you, he still smelled as comforting and nice as you remembered. He still ran his fingers through your hair soothingly like he usually did. He still felt like home. 

He was really here, he'd come to save you. 

After a few moments of clinging to each other in silence, he lifted his fingers from your hair, a soft gasp leaving his lips. “Your head was bleeding?”

“I guess I landed wrong,” you tried to joke, though your laugh was breathy and unconvincing. Your dizziness and headache implied a concussion, but you weren’t ready to volunteer that information to him yet. In turn he pulled away to look you over completely

 “You look so much better than I expected though! I kinda thought maybe you wouldn't be..." He didn't dare finish that thought. He'd come entirely too close to losing you too many times for him to even say it out loud anymore. "I was really worried about you." 

"I wasn't sure you'd come after me," you confessed softly, burying your face in his shoulder as you leaned into him again. 

"I'll... always come after you." He pressed an endearing kiss to your messy, splayed hair as a flustered blush set in on his cheeks. Even after going through all of this together and being together like you had, Makoto still got embarrassed from affection and admitting his feelings so blatantly.

“I brought you food and water.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You reached out to grab what he was holding immediately. Simple bread and water had never seemed so delicious. 

After waiting for you to finish eating, which admittedly didn’t take very long, he laced his long fingers with yours. “C’mon, we need to get you out of here.”

“How? That door is locked and there’s no way we can climb high enough to go back out through the trash chute..” 

He flashed you that knowing, assured grin that you loved so much. It couldn’t have been more than a few days since you’d seen him, but seeing him smile at you like that again was enough to make you want to cry and cling to him tighter than you ever had before. Had there been no rush to get out of this hole, you would’ve done just that. 

His free hand disappeared into his jacket pocket for just a second before returning into sight with a shiny silver key in its grasp. 

“Kirigiri… gave you the Monokuma key?” After her dedicated attempt to frame you in the last trial, you weren’t too hopeful that she would be helpful in rescuing you. “Why?”

“It’s… a long story, that she wants to tell you herself, but she’s really close to figuring everything out. She’s the one who snuck me into the trash room and down the chute,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand. “She’s waiting to let us out through the trapdoor there now. On the other side of that door there should be a ladder that leads back up.”

“She’s almost found the Mastermind?”

He nodded earnestly.

“Good. I want to get out of this stupid school. I want us to get out together.”

“Me too,” he promised softly, “But right now we have to get you out of this horrible place.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Finding out the truth about Freddie; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Here we go with the next chapter, now I hope you got your tissues ready cause I swear people, these next few chapters are gonna be heavy. Now in this one there is an insane amount of fluff first but then as the story goes on, YEESH! I’ll say this I HATED writing a portion of this chapter cause I was CRYING!!!

Also in the near future I may do a sorta HC type thing because there is one additional surprise that’s in this chapter (it’s nothing bad trust me) but I may just do that instead of making another fic of it. But I hope you all enjoy this part as much as you enjoyed the previous. And look out for the next and final update coming in just a few.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@kairosfreddie​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

@isabella-bby​

@dj-lowkey​

_______________________________________________________________

*December 15th, 1990*

It was like any other day in holiday home of Montreux.  I was getting the place ready for the boys to stay while they got some work done. Brian wouldn’t tell me much but just the fact that the press were really hounding on Freddie lately. Now I have heard that there had been rumors that Freddie was sick but of what I had no idea.

The boys refused to tell me every time I asked. The last time I had seen Freddie and the guys in the public view was when they won the award for best band of the 1980’s.  

And I’ll definitely say that something did look wrong with him, he was so thin and pale it was like I wasn’t even looking at the same person.  But a walking corpse.  I checked the clock really quick and said to myself.

“Okay Jack should be back with them any minute. Their flight was supposed to have come in a half hour ago. That is if there had been no delay. But there shouldn’t have been otherwise he’d call me. Okay bedrooms have been assigned, dinner’s just about done, and the twins are upstairs napping. Susan will drop Kelly back home after the playdate with Amy, okay I think that’s everything.”

Soon I heard two separate barks from upstairs on the balcony.  I knew that it was Sammy our 3 year old golden retriever and Bucky our 6 year old German Shepherd, sounding the alarm that company had arrived.  I smiled and raced towards the door and opened it to reveal the guys coming out of the cars.

I smiled widely and raced towards them not helping myself to an ecstatic squeal that came out of my mouth.

“Ahh her royal majesties have finally arrived!” As the first person I tackled in a hug was Brian.  Seeing me coming at him, he immediately was ready as he picked me up and spun me around making me laugh as I said.

“Oh you guys look at you all!” He set me down as I brought Deacy in for the next hug.  He pecked my cheek and embraced me back and as I hugged Roger and Fred at the same time I said, “Oh it’s been too long, I’ve missed my boys soo much. Oi,” I separated from them and gathered them together so that I could scold them like the mother I was, “Just because you four are now some hotshot band of the 80’s doesn’t mean you can forget about the people who most love you four. I worry about you guys I expect a call every now and then.”

“You know we check in on you love.” Said Roger. I grinned at him and said.

“Yeah I know but still. I don’t want you four to forget about little ol me.”

“Darling it’s impossible to forget about you.” Said Freddie.

“Hey you guys hungry? I’ve made cornbread and chilly.” I asked.

“Wait did I just hear cornbread and chilly?” Jack suddenly came into the group circle making us laugh and I said.

“Yes darling, it’s in the stove, should be done about now.” I took the guys inside the house and as they got a good view of the house from the inside Deacy said.

“Wow (y/n), your home is beautiful.”

“Thanks Deacy, the perfect vacation home for three kids. But oh lord the sleepovers that will happen in the future. It’ll fit an entire classroom.” I teased the last part.

“Speaking of which where are the little ankle biters at?” asked Roger.

“Well the twins are upstairs taking their afternoon nap, and Kelly is at a friend’s place. Should be back around 5-10 minutes or so.”

“How have they been doing?” asked Brian.

“Well the twins just had their 18month checkup about a month ago. Everything’s all healthy, Jack Jr. grew another 3inches. And Georgie gained 3 extra pounds.” Deacy whistled and said.

“Seems you’ve got a weed on your hands with Jack.”

“Tell me about it, by the time the boy’s in junior high, he’ll probably be as tall as an NBA player.” They looked at me confused and that’s when I stated, “Basketball player.” To which they nodded in understandment.

“And how’s the little nightingale?” asked Freddie.

“She’s been good. Really liking her kindergarten class, her teacher says she’s the smartest little girl she’s ever seen.”

“And we wouldn’t expect nothing less, she’s like her mother in every sense, shape and form.” Roger praised as he gave me a fatherly peck on the temple.  I playfully shoved him and said.

“But I know she’ll be excited to see you all. She doesn’t even know you guys are coming.”

“My, my you are a sneaky mother lion aren’t yah dear?” teased Freddie.

“I do my best Fred. Okay so let me show you all to your rooms so you can set your stuff down and then we can have dinner.” I then led the boys up the stairs.

But as I reached the top I began to notice that Fred seemed to be struggling immensely.  

I walked back down towards him and took his luggage and he looked at me and I smiled softly, hoping that I wasn’t crossing any boundaries.

“Thank you darling.” He said with a nod and I nodded back to him and tried to help him up the stairs but he refused telling me that he got it under control.

“Okay Freddie this room is yours,”

“Thank you darling.” He said as he set himself down on the bed and for the first time since arriving I saw him truly become relaxed. I set his stuff down at his bedside and said to him.

“I’ll let you know when dinner’s finally ready.” He thanked me once more and that’s when we all heard barking coming down the hall.

Bucky had entered Freddie’s room and trotted right up towards him.

“Hi Bucky!” Freddie said trying to sound enthusiastically but that’s when Bucky started to bark at him and not in the happy way.  He almost sounded alarmed or defensive.  I walked up towards him telling him as I ruffled his fur.

“What is wrong with you yah rotter? It’s just Freddie.”

“Oh I think my outfit just smells like Delilah that’s all.”

“I am so sorry Freddie he’s never acted this way before to anyone.” I apologized.

“No apologizes necessary darling.” He assured me. I knelt down to Bucky’s height and he sniffed under my chin whimpering and grunting as I scowled him.

“What’s the matter with you huh? It’s like you smelled something bad on him.” Bucky let out a couple more barks before a whistle was heard and Bucky went trotting over to Roger who began to pet him.  “Again Fred I’m so sorry about this, hopefully Sammy will be nicer for the both of them. You just get yourself situated and I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

“No need to hover over me like a mama bear darling, I’ll be fine.” I just grinned at him and left his room and took the rest of band members of Queen to their rooms.

Deacy and Roger had rooms that were next door to each other’s while Brian’s room was just across from the master bedroom.

Once the guys got settled in, Jack had gotten the table set up and now everyone was gathered around the table ready to eat. I set the food down and I heard Roger say.

“Ahh about time, at least this will be better than airplane food.”

“Oh (y/n) this smells absolutely delicious.” Complimented Brian.

“Thank you boys, and please help yourselves to as much as you want.”  We all then dug into our dinner.

“So how far did you say the studio was from here?” asked Freddie.

“It’s literally 20 minutes from here. Can’t miss it, it’s a beautiful building. I’m actually about to do some recording myself there tomorrow for my next album.”

“Mind telling us about it?” asked Roger.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no you cheeky devils. You’ll have to wait till it hits the shelves. I’m not spilling a single detail.”

“Ahh come on love, we tell each other everything in regard to work.” Said Brian.

“Nope, not gonna get anything outta me.” I said as I took a spoonful of chilly into my mouth.  The front door soon opened and shut as we all heard a tiny little girl’s voice call out.

“Hi mummy!”

“There she is.” Proclaimed Deacy.  Soon coming around the corner at 5 years old now with my (h/c) locks that went past her shoulders and (e/c) eyes that shined like little gems was my dear little Kelly.

“Uncle Deacy!” She raced over to Deacy who picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he said.

“How’s my favorite niece doing? Ohh you’re getting so big.”

“I see how it is Kelly, you go to Deacy but ignore the rest of us.” Freddie taunted.

“No Uncle Freddie, I never forget about you!” Kelly whined.  Freddie grinned at her and said.

“I know you wouldn’t. Now come give your uncle Freddie a kiss my little nightingale.” Kelly got out of Deacy’s lap and went over to Freddie who picked her up and kissed both her cheeks.  I noticed that Freddie was straining to pick her up, he tried to hide it but I could see it in his face as he picked her up.

“And what of my hug and kiss Kelly?” Brian asked. She giggled and Freddie passed her over to Brian.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Brian’s cheek.  I picked up Jack Jr. from his booster seat while Jack took Daniel.  Brian gave Kelly her Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead which made her giggle.

“Where’s papa Roger?” she asked innocently.  I turned to Roger who went to grab another beer can to see his goddaughter being held in Brian’s arms.  I grinned at him as he said as he set his beer down.

“Why don’t you turn around and find out.” Kelly immediately turned around and raced towards Roger who got down to her height and picked her up under her arms holding her close to his chest which caused the whole room to erupt with soft laughs.

Just like me, Kelly’s always favored Roger out of the guys.  Thankfully Roger took the role of godfather to a whole new level.  Anytime I needed advice with Kelly, he was always there day or night.  He adored Kelly with all his heart and like he did with me, he treated Kelly like his own child and gave her the entire world.

“You happy to see your uncles and your god papa sweetie?” asked Jack.

“I’m very happy.” Roger hugged her close to him and repeatedly kissed Kelly’s cheek making her giggle and squirm in his arms.

“And get this poppet, your uncles and godfather will be staying here with us for a while whilst they get some work done.” I told her.  Her eyes lit up and she turned to Roger and asked him.

“Really?”

“That’s right love, hope you won’t get too sick of us like your mother does.” Roger teased.

“No I miss you guys!” She said as she hugged Roger’s neck and buried her face into it which made all of us laugh.  Roger kissed her head and set back down in his seat while I got a bowl ready for Kelly.  Once I set it down, she whined out, “Aww mummy, I don’t like chilly though!”

“Sorry darling but you’re gonna have to expand your eating habits. Just try a couple of bites.” I told her.  She huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest pouting.

“Ahh come on now lovey, listen to your mummy and try at least a spoonful.” Said Roger as he gave her the puppy dog eyes but Kelly still refused.

“Okay then, I guess that means I’ll have to give the extra ice cream sandwiches to one of the guys then.” I started off.  It was then Kelly perked up and said.

“Wait! Wait! I want an ice cream sandwich!” I smirked knowing that I had her right where I wanted her.  I knelt down in front of her and said to her.

“Then you’ve got to eat your chilly.” She whined as she looked between her bowl and me.  “It’s either that or not dessert monkey.” She then finally gave in and reached for her spoon and took a bite of the chilly.  “That’s my girl.” I kissed the top of her head as Roger said.

“You’re so bad with her.”

“Well I did learn from the best,” I pecked his cheek and went to grab the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer.

The rest of the night was spent catching up with the guys and eating our dessert.  Kelly was coloring in her coloring book while the boys were playing with their blocks at the center of the living room.

“So how have you two adjusted to dealing with 3 kids now?” asked Brian.

“It’s a struggle at times, but we’re happy to have our boys.” I said.

“Jack Jr. is an angel from heaven, Georgie however is a little devil in disguise. Jack Jr. clears his plate like a gentleman, Georgie on the other hand will just scatter his food down to the floor. Like the other day they were eating cheerios and he goes shoving the cheerios onto the ground, but what he does next is that he just looks at me like this,” Jack then made a ‘stare-down’ face as he said, “Like he’s saying, ‘I know you’re gonna pick that up’.” Which got the guys laughing.

“Trust me Jack, I went through the same thing with Robert when he was first born. But eventually he grew out of it, hopefully it’ll be the same with Georgie.” Said Deacy.

“Let’s hope so, I don’t think I can raise a mini-Jensen.” Jack groaned which made us laugh again.

As the night drew darker, Kelly who was now leaning against her godfather yawned and that’s when Roger said.

“Seems like someone had a long day today.” I stood up to take her upstairs but he stopped me and said, “It’s fine love, I’ll take her up. You take care of those boys of yours.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yeah it’ll be fine.” Roger then slowly picked Kelly up without trying to wake her up and took her up to her room.  

God she looked so cute leaning up against Roger like that, reminds me of me at that age when my real father would take me up to bed after I had fallen asleep doing something.

“It is getting rather late. I think we should all be in bed by now, we want to get as early of a start recording as we can.” Stated Freddie.

“Agreed.” Brian spoke up.  It was then decided that we all turned in for the night.  Jack and I put the twins in their nursery jointed right next door to the master bedroom and I said goodnight to the three queens and they bid us a goodnight back.  Jack and I unfolded the sheets and got into bed.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying in the studio for?”

“I’m hoping to plan just 9 hours, but I can’t make any promises. Plus with the guys here, they may need me. Hope that isn’t any trouble for you.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s been awhile since you’ve got to work with the boys, they might need you back with them.”

“Yeah they are lost without me.” We kissed each other and then snuggled up for the night.

*3rd Person POV*

While everyone was getting situated into bed, Roger finally arrived at Kelly’s room and walked over to her bed.  He gently set her down and just before he could cover her up, she moaned and opened her eyes and said.

“Papa Roger?” Roger looked up at her and smiled and said.

“Hey you, I thought you’d gone to dreamland by now.”

“I couldn’t with you and uncle Deacy, uncle Brian and uncle Freddie here. I’m too excited to sleep now.”

“Oh really?” She nodded but then Roger took notice that she had the same sad look that she inherited from her mother. “What is it lovey?” he asked.

“I don’t think I can say it.” She responded solemnly as she looked down away from Roger.  Roger looked at his goddaughter as said.

“Kelly, you know that if something’s bothering you, you know you can always tell me anything, right?” She nodded hesitantly and that’s when Roger lifted her chin up and said as he sat down at her bedside and extended his arm out, “C’mere darling.” Kelly crawled up onto Roger’s lap and gripped onto his shirt and fiddled with it.

Roger adjusted her so that she was fully sitting on his lap and wrapped his arms around her back keeping her steady as he allowed her head to rest against his chest over his heart, much like he did with her mother.

“Talking about it will help you feel better, so come on little lioness, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Kelly fiddled with Roger’s shirt a bit more before finally saying as she looked up at Roger with this (e/c) eyes that she got from her mother.

“Is uncle Freddie okay?”

At this point Roger didn’t even know what to tell her.  He had hoped that Kelly wouldn’t notice the change in Freddie due to his AIDS but he knew he had been fooling himself.  

She was after all the daughter of (Y/n) Kline, the cleverest girl he had ever met.

“I—didn’t want to say anything to mummy at dinner because I was afraid she’d get sad. I didn’t want her to be sad.” Roger stroked Kelly’s hair and said to her.

“You definitely have your mother’s cleverness thank god for that.” He first teased which made both him and even Kelly laugh. “Listen darling; your uncle Freddie he’s—he’s just trying out a new look. He hopes that it will help him look younger to fit in with the new ongoing crowd of fans. That’s all.”

“Well I don’t like it. He looks sick, can’t mummy help him feel better? I want the old uncle Freddie back.” Roger brushed some strands of her long hair out of her face and said.

“Maybe, if your mum will allow it.”

“She always helps me whenever I feel sick.” She said softly.

“She is a good nurse isn’t she?” Roger asked remembering all the times that she’s helped him and the guys whenever they partied too hard and were completely shitfaced by morning when they were forced to record.  After teasing them, mainly him of course, she’d then have medicine, water and crackers to help settle their stomachs.

Kelly nodded but still looked sad.  If there was one thing Roger knew when it came to his best girls, whether it was the Kline girls or even his own daughter, it was to never let them go to bed sad.  With a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes and a cunning grin coming across his face, Roger proceeded to try and get Kelly to laugh.  First he playfully pinched her nose as he said.

“I’ve got you nose.” Which made Kelly giggle as she tried to escape her godfather’s embrace.  As she now fell back onto her bed, it allowed Roger to grab her ankle and lift her foot in the air as he said, “Got your toes!”

“Papa Roger, stop! I’m too big for nose and toes!” She laughed.  This was a playful game that Roger not only played with his own daughter but with Kelly as well to get them to be happy again.

“Uh-oh, you’re missing a toe. Alright you little ankle bitter, where’s that missing toe?”

“I’m not missing a toe.” Kelly cried out.

“Oh yes you are, see. One, two, three, four.” He said counting her toes skipping over her middle toe.  “Now where you keeping that toe at young lady?”

“I don’t have it anywhere.”

“Ah-ah better tell the truth, or I’m gonna tickle it out of yah.” He then dived down and began tickling Kelly’s stomach.  The two of them laughing as Roger kept Kelly close to him as he tickled her, not allowing her to escape an inch away from him. Kelly tried as best as she could to roll away from him but Roger always brought her back close to him, she tried to push his hand away but it wouldn’t budge.

When she was nothing but pure smiles and no more trace of sadness was in her eyes, Roger ceased his tickle attack and scooted her up so that her head was now resting on her pillow.

“Okay lovey, time for bed.” He tucked her in and stroked the top of her head, brushing away the bangs that fell down over her eyes.  “Now don’t you worry about your uncle Freddie okay? He always bounces back up, and I know he will from this.” Roger lied.

He hated to lie to Kelly but he had no choice. She was too young to understand and he didn’t want this to affect her badly by telling her that her uncle was going to die soon.

He refused to allow Kelly to be told that right away, especially if it was from him and not from her own parents.

Plus he knew Freddie would never forgive him had his favorite niece been told he was so sick.

“Okay.” Kelly said softly.

“That’s my girl.” Roger kissed her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight my love.”

“G’night.” Kelly whispered before finally closing her eyes and went back to sleep.  Roger stayed by her bedside for a few moments stroking her head gingerly before finally decided to head to his own room and went to sleep himself.

As he lay down on his bed, a single tear fell down his face.

*My POV*

As the next year came around; the boys continued to stay at the house, balancing work and spending time with their niece and nephews.  I’ve really began to notice the signs of Freddie not doing so well.

Some nights he would lose his appetite and not want anything to eat.  There was also the signs of him struggling to get out of bed in the mornings and even walk up and down the stairs.  One day there was even an accident where he fell and broke his ankle.  Also both Sammy and Bucky would just bark at Freddie anytime he would pass them, they even went as much as to avoid him at all times which they had never done before since we had gotten them.

I was really starting to get scared for Freddie’s sake because Kelly was starting to ask questions.  She told me that she and Rog had a talk about it but he told her not to worry about it.  So I would go up to either Brian or Rog since anytime Freddie was brought up, Deacy wouldn’t even speak and the two of them would tell me not to worry and that Fred was just trying something out, or he went to the gym after their rehearsals.

I was currently sitting on one of my chairs by the back entrance going over a new song for my upcoming album.  Doing some rewrites and trying to make the song work better when I heard Freddie’s voice coming down the hallway.

I put my feet up and lowered myself further down the chair hiding myself from view as I heard Freddie say.

“Just tell the press to bugger off and not say a word that I am here with (Y/n) and Jack. I refuse to let the Klines get involve with this Jim darling. If they ask, just tell them I’m in Japan recording…..I know, I miss you too my husband. I’ll call you later tonight, bye-bye my love.” I then heard Fred sigh heavily and heard him enter the living room as he said to himself. “God this is fucking ridiculous. Now they’ve got to pull my beloved Rock Angel into this, she doesn’t deserve this torture either.”

Finally I had had enough, I poked out from behind the chair which caused Freddie to jump backward as I said to him.

“Care to confess your sins there, Mr. Mercury?”

“Bloody hell (Y/n) don’t scare me like that.” He said as he rubbed his chest.  I set my notebook down and stood before him saying.

“Well that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You Fred. If anyone’s scaring anybody here is you that’s scaring me. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about?” He remained silent and just stared at me with wide eyes.  I raised my brow at him and proceeded to say as I circled around him, “Like; why Bucky and Sammy won’t come near you without barking up a storm? Or why your appetites changed? Not to mention this weight loss, the fact that you can barely walk some days without help, not to mention the phone conversation I just heard about me getting involved with something you don’t want me a part of. Fred I’m really worried about you.”

I now stood face to face with him by the end of my rant and that’s when Freddie told me.

“(Y/n) I—I’m just going through some personal things that’s all my dear.” I looked at him suspiciously and said.

“Okay,” I sighed heavily as I dragged my hands through my hair as I said, “God if I didn’t know any better I’d say it’s almost as if you—” I stopped as I looked at him.  I then shook my head and said, “No. No way. I’m going straight to the worst case scenario.” I turned around and walked away.

“What scenario would that be darling?” Freddie asked me.  I turned back around toward him and said to him trying to play it off.

“Nothing, nothing Fred forget I even said anything.” As I turned back around to walk away it was then Freddie dropped the bombshell.

“Because only a clever girl like you could decipher….when one has AIDS.”

I froze in my spot.

I slowly turned around and looked at Freddie. I have heard about the AIDS crisis that had been breaking out worldwide.  It was unlike anything I had ever heard of, and it was strongly affected the gay community.  Already Jack had lost some old friends from this disease but never did I—oh my god.

I slowly walked towards Fred finally putting two and two together as I choked out his name.  He looked at me with solemn eyes and said the four most gravest and heartbreaking words I will ever hear in my entire life.

“I’m afraid so darling.”

My eyes grew wide, my heart sunk and I almost collapsed to the ground in tears.  I held my hands to my mouth trying to hide my shocked expression but tears quickly filled my eyes.

“Oi Fred!” Roger’s voice called out.  He came up from the back entrance and stood beside Freddie and said to him, “Fred, Brian and Deacy managed to figure out the problem for the song, we want to run it by you.” It was then Roger turned to look at me.  I sniffled and couldn’t help as a tear fell down my face.  “(Y/n) what’s wrong?”

Even in his weak and frail state, Freddie still had that strength in his eyes that told me to not cry and be strong.  I snapped out of my state and choked out as I tried to do what Freddie was telling me to do.

“Wha? No, nothing’s wrong dad. I’m only just picturing Freddie the way he’d want me to right now. The day I first met him…..Me sitting at the piano and him trying to get me to sing another song…..” I couldn’t help a sob that came out as I choked out again as I held my arms out, “Can I please hug him?”

I walked up towards Fred and gave him a hug as I wept hysterically.  Crying into his shoulder while he rocked me back and forth rubbing my back trying to comfort me as I wept.

“Oh god no! Not you…..” I felt him kiss my temple and that’s when I felt his embrace and backed away as I choked out. “Okay I’m going to go calm down, then tonight. You and me. Garden. Because we need to have a serious talk about this okay? Okay?” I wiped my tears away before rushing out of the living room and upstairs to my bedroom.

*3rd Person POV*

Roger who was completely baffled by what he just saw turned to Freddie who turned to him solemnly and he confessed.

“I told her.” Roger sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“How did she find out?”

“She’s clever that lion cub of yours. She put two and two together without even having to say it. Plus she was hiding when I was on the phone with Jim. Already the press back home are spilling rumors that our beloved Rock Angel is aware of my AIDS and is keeping me in hiding.”

“Those fucking wankers.” Roger sneered.  He then looked toward the direction where (y/n) had gone and tried to go after her but Freddie stopped him and said.

“Leave her be Rog. Give her time to calm down, and like she said I will talk with her. This has to be between me and her.” Roger nodded and the two men went back to work.

As agreed, the sun set and (y/n) was currently out in the gardens sitting on the pergola swing set with a vodka bottle in her hands. It was a full size bottle but the content inside was almost empty.

*My POV*

My mind maybe fuzzy from dousing vodka most of the afternoon, but I was still sober enough to go to the garden and get on the pergola waiting for Freddie to get here.  

I can’t believe this is happening. It’s—it’s like a bad dream or something.  Please God don’t let this be real.

“Knock, knock.” I looked up and there stood Freddie. I gestured for him to sit down and he did as I said.  I refused to look up at him because I knew I would break down, shitfaced or not. “Never did take you for drinking so early darling.” Freddie tried to lighten up the mood.

I spoke not a word.  Everything was dead silent except for the crickets chirping.

“How long has everyone known?” my tone was completely broken.  I heard him sigh and he confessed.

“I told Miami shortly after I was diagnoses in ’86. The boys didn’t find out three years after Miami found out.”  I shut my eyes as tears fell down my face not believing this.

“So this whole time you all knew about this? And you didn’t bother to let me in on it?!” I snapped as I finally turned towards him.  Tears stinging my eyes and threatening to come down.

“Darling I just wanted to keep this to myself. I wanted to protect the ones I loved most closest to me from being told this illness. Not even my family knows about this yet.” I looked at him, seeing the strength in his eyes behind his frail face.  “I thought by not telling you, I would be sparing you this heartache. But I should’ve guessed I couldn’t hide anything from you this long. You’re just too clever my darling.” He gently stroked my cheek with his index finger wiping away the tearstains from my face.

I turned away from him and just looked down at my feet as I muttered brokenly.

“I did this to you.”

“What?” I sniffled and said.

“I did this to you Fred.” He looked at me confused and said.

“My rock angel that’s ridiculous, how could you have done any of this?” Finally setting the vodka down, I wiped my tears away from both my eyes and sniffled as I confessed and looked directly at him.

“Do you remember a few months before my wedding? Shortly after you and the boys shot the ‘I want to break free’ video?” Freddie looked at me solemnly and said.

“You mean the day I said those horrible, nasty things about you? I wish I could forget that day but it happened.”

“I told you that I wished that you were struck down in the worst possible way……and now here you are with the worst thing anyone could ever have!” I sobbed out.  Covering my eyes with my hand, shutting them trying to keep any more tears from spilling out.  “I did this to you Fred…..I did this…..”

“That’s bullshit darling!” he exclaimed.  I felt him take my hand that was at my side as he said, “(Y/n), my rock angel look at me,” I was hesitant but I turned towards him, looking like a sad, pathetic drunken woman but Freddie didn’t care.

He stroked some of my hair out of my face tucking it behind my ear as he said.

“Now you listen to me darling; no one is to blame here. You are not to blame for this, the one person responsible for this is me. I was reckless, stupid, and gave too shits about what I was doing. I might’ve known the risks but I didn’t give a fuck about it. My moto was ‘I’m doing everything with everyone’ and not once considered what the result would be. But never, ever think that this was your fault, because it wasn’t. I don’t blame you; the boys don’t blame you; no one blames you.” I looked at Freddie with teary eyes and choked out in a faint voice that it almost appeared like a whisper.

“But why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“As I said I wanted to protect you darling. You were finally booming in your career just as we were. I didn’t want anything to drag you down. You didn’t deserve to be distracted by an old aging queen like me.” That managed to get a laugh out of me.  “See, there’s my darling rock angel.” He wiped the tears away and I fully turned towards him.

He cupped my face into his hands and he looked straight into my eyes as he said in a more serious tone.

“Now I’m going to tell you exactly what you told the lads and I when we first found out about your parents; I don’t want you to fuss about it or frown about it, but above all don’t bore me with any sympathy. Because that’s just seconds wasted, seconds that can be used making music, which is all what I want to do with the time I have left. And you need to do the same, can you promise me that darling?” I sniffled and croaked out.

“I’ll try.”

“No dear, you either will or you won’t. Now give me the right answer.” His voice stern which made me flinch a bit but I knew it wasn’t out of anger at me directly.

“I promise.” I vowed to him.  He nodded softly and said.

“That’s my Rock Angel, now no more tears darling, okay?” I nodded and that’s when he brought me into his embrace and I hugged him back as tightly as I could but kept it gentle so that I wouldn’t cause him any pain.

I remained in his arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Fred invited me along to the recording studio.  Since I had completed my album, he thought it would be best for me to come over and see him record this one song that he had been working on with the guys.

He wouldn’t tell me much about it, just to come along and even bring Kelly along so that she could see it too.  

Once we had arrived at the studio, I held Kelly’s hand in mine and that’s when she asked me.

“Do you think you and uncle Freddie could sing the pressure song after they’re done?”

“Maybe, but don’t count on anything okay Kelly? Your Uncle needs to rest his voice.” I entered the studio and was greeted by some of the technicians and office workers who pointed me in the direction of where the boys were.

When we reached the room, I saw Freddie put down a vodka bottle as he proclaimed to Brian who was sitting right beside him.

“I’ll fucking do it, darling!”

“Language Freddie, there is a child present in the room.” I exclaimed as I covered Kelly’s ears.  The boys all turned toward me and that’s when Freddie said.

“So sorry dear.” I just shook my head at him as I grinned and that’s when Kelly raced up towards Freddie.  He picked her up and set him on his lap and she asked him.

“You going to do a new song uncle Freddie?”

“Indeed I am my little nightingale, care to watch?” She nodded enthusiastically and that’s when Brian took a hold of Kelly and set her in is lap while Fred slowly got up from his chair and walked into the recording booth.  I took Freddie’s seat and Roger came over and stood over me while Deacy was in the back isolated but still kept his eyes on Fred.

“Okay this is ‘the Show must go on’ take 1.” Brian spoke into the mic. “You ready Fred?”

“Yes Brian dear, let’s do it.” I then heard the track beginning to start.  It was a powerful beat that already struck a chord in me and as it decrescendo, Freddie began to sing.

Play video

Even with as frail and ill that he looked, a man that was practically a walking corpse right before my eyes, his voice still held such power.  Sure not as much as he once had, but Fred didn’t allow his AIDS to stop him from working, he kept at it.

Once the first chorus hit and his voice hit that falsetto I couldn’t help but have my breath literally be taken out from my body as I just stared at him.  The lyrics were truly about Freddie and his struggles with this illness but he still knew and kept up with his famed phrase ‘The Show must go on’ no matter what.

And he sure as hell proved that on that day to me.

I could only stare at him in pure awe throughout the whole recording.  To nail the notes he needed on just the first take, only someone like Freddie Mercury could do that.  And I was damn proud to not only call him my idol, but my family.

At the very last note he hit with such raw power, I felt a shiver run up my spine as my eyes refused to leave him and I may or may not have been aware of it, but a few tears had fallen down my face.

By the end of the song, I heard Kelly say.

“Mummy you’re crying.” I turned to her and felt my cheek and could feel the wetness of the tears in my face.

“They’re happy tears my love.” I assured her as I wiped them away and saw Fred looking right at me.  I pressed the mic button and said.  “Killed it as always Fred.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can do it again.” Which caused me and the guys to choke out a laugh.

The following day at just before dawn, we were all at the airport and the guys were waiting for their private jet to take them back to London after doing a successful recording.

“You sure we can’t tempt you all to stay for a few more days?” asked Jack.

“No Jack darling we’ve taken up too much of your time. It’s time we were headed home.” Said Freddie. Jack nodded and that’s when Deacy spoke up.

“Thank you both for allowing us to stay in your lovely home.”

“Anytime Deacy, beats having to stay at a hotel or some rundown home the studio sometimes provides.” I said.

“Must you guys really leave?” Kelly asked as she leaned against her father’s shoulder looking toward her uncles and godfather sadly.

“Afraid so love, but don’t worry. You’ll be coming to see us soon.” Roger assured her as he lightly bopped her nose.

“How soon?” she asked.

“Faster than you think little one.” Brian answered her as he stroked down her hair before leaned down and giving her a kiss goodbye.  The rest of the guys soon followed and we all hugged and kissed each other goodbye as their jet soon landed.

The boys grabbed their luggage and they left to get on the plane.  They waved bye to us one final time and we waved back before they finally disappeared.

“I hope next time we see Freddie this fall he at least gets better. He looked so frail and ill; do you know what’s wrong with him (Y/n)?” I didn’t turn to face Jack but I immediately responded.

“I have no idea; they wouldn’t tell me anything.” I hated to lie but I made a promise to Fred.  He made me swear to him that Jack and Kelly didn’t need to know about his illness because he didn’t want anyone else besides me to know now.

So I vowed to him that I’d keep his secret, and I did. From mid-February till late November I kept Freddie’s secret.

[oohfluffy]

TIHM Ch.9 | BBH

Group: EXO

Member: Byun Baekhyun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Rated M | University!AU | Football!AU

Word Count: 1,951

chapter 9

It was past six o'clock when your 3-hour class ended. You let out a satisfied sigh as you closed your notebook, which ended up filling 10 pages with lots of notes. Putting down your pen on your desk, you slowly stretched your fingers, feeling the strain on the little muscles as you reached out.

"Is it true that she's being favored by Byun?"

"I'm scared for oppa. He might be preyed on by the bitch."

"She doesn't look that special, to be honest."

"She's not even pretty! She's just all brains."

"Maybe, she did his homework?"

Hearing a batch of laughter in front of the room, you just swallowed the lump on your throat before packing your things. You shook your head as you tried blocking their talks from your hearing, which was to avail. You almost cursed out loud as the pen on your desk rolled down on the floor.

Bending down to pick it up from the aisle, you avoided looking at the people in front. You bit your lip as you touched your pen—

"Oops."

You let out a hiss when a long, thin heel dug its way onto your wrist before you could even grab your pen. A few snickers were let out as Irene looked down at you, her eyes gleaming with hatred and indifference.

"Hi, Saejin-ah. Thought we'd stay away from you, huh?" She chuckled darkly, twisting her red lips into a smirk. "I don't think our friendship is that fragile, do you girls?" Turning her head to the side, her bitches grinned. You looked down as her black heel dug deeper on to your skin, gritting your teeth closely to avoid whimpering.

"You aren't sucking off of Baekhyun oppa, right?" Seulgi spat out as she stood at Irene's side, her pointer finger pushing your forehead up. "Look at me when I talk to you!"

"Don't shout!" Wendy shushed her quietly, looking back at the closed door before turning to you with a smirk.

"You know what he did to us?" Irene raised her eyebrow, her eyes sharp staring at yours. You felt your eyes watering, not only in humiliation but the pain on your almost bleeding wrist. "You know it, don't you? He didn't just shame us, he kicked us out—"

"I'm not part of whatever he did to you, nor do I care." You spoke loud and clear, not breaking your voice as you glared back through the tears. You forced yourself to bear with the stinging sensation on your wrist as you pulled your hand from the weight of her heel. You can feel your skin getting dragged along as the roughness and sharpness of the rubber kept its friction stuck on your flesh.

"Leave. me. the. fuck. alone." You emphasized every word of that sentence as you stared at their bewildered and incredulous expressions. You straightened up your posture, feeling the numbness take over your senses. Irene gasped not just because of your audacity to talk back, but because of your disgusting blood trickling down your fingers. You didn't give her the chance to cut you off though. 

"I don't want to have anything to do with you. You can get all the spotlight for all I care."

Quickly turning back to your seat, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room, pushing some students who were shamelessly watching the whole thing happen. Your other hand, the one that's not injured, was grasping your bag strap tightly as if you would fall on your knees if you don't. You kept on walking fast as if you can sense that they would seriously run after you.

You are scared.

You breathed out hard as you sharply turned to the corner, hands shaking at the sight of your bleeding hand. You almost tripped over your foot while looking at your hands.

"P-Pull yourself together, Saejin." You mumbled to yourself as you patted your chest with a shaking hand. "Y-You're okay."

Taking one last deep inhalation, you trudged down the stairs with a loud beating heart. You still got an hour and a half to make it to Jiwon's aunt's coffee shop.

It will be alright.

"Saejin-ssi?" Kyungsoo muttered under his breath as he recognized your back on him. His eyes drifted down to your shaking hands, worry filling his system as he spotted something dark crawling down your fingers. "Sae—"

"Man, I swear to God, I'm killing Park when I see him." Baekhyun cursed as he bumped his shoulder to his friend, who was still staring at a space. Baekhyun looked in front of them and wondered what was so interesting in an old staircase. "Yah, Do Kyungsoo."

As if he was brought back to reality, Kyungsoo blinked once before looking at him. The worry and uneasiness were still present and evident in his huge eyes that Baekhyun couldn't help but ask.

"Are you alright?"

Kyungsoo looked down the stairs once again before shaking his head. "It's nothing."

"Uhuh. Staring off a space is nothing. Right." Baekhyun snickered as he wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Let's just go eat dinner and talk about your nothing, man."

"I just saw Saejin-ssi a minute ago."

Baekhyun stopped on his tracks in surprise. He turned his head to Kyungsoo, tilting as he questioned, "How'd you know her?"

"We formally met yesterday. I think she's a Med student. I saw her Human Anatomy book—"

"Oh good." He hummed as he continued dragging his friend in the hallways.

"I just got worried when I saw her hands shaking. She was even leaning on the wall until she reached the stairs—"

"Shaking?!" Baekhyun incredulously exclaimed, his feet fully stopping on the ground. His slitted eyes were wide open now as he thought about his encounter with you back on the dark restroom by the field. "S-She..."

"Why are you over reacting? Are you her father?" Kyungsoo frowned as he suspiciously looked at his friend. He raised his eyebrow at him. "You didn't do anything to her—"

"Of course not!"

"Tss. If you're planning to," Kyungsoo shook him off of his shoulders, walking ahead of Baekhyun. "don't bother hurting her. I think she got enough pain already."

—

"Oh! Saejin-ah!"

You forced to lift the side of your lips as Jiwon's aunt, Jinah, welcomed you inside her newly opened coffee shop. She grinned as she tugged you in the counters, talking loudly about how prettier and taller you got since the last time she saw you two years ago.

"I didn't get that much taller, aunt Jinah." You laughed as she rolled her eyes. She was smaller than you by a few inches, which makes you think that Jiwon took after her father's side not her mother's as she was a tall girl. You looked around the place and smiled at the atmosphere it built. "This place looks like a safe haven. So beautiful and peaceful."

"I know right! I really wanted it to be designed like this from the start. You know just a place where you can easily escape from the busy, buzzing, and noisy world out there." Aunt Jinah smiled fondly at her place.

The coffee shop's color theme was a mix of brown and white. The chairs were wooden with white steel foundations, along with the wooden tables. Pieces of fresh tulips placed in a clear bottle at the center of each table, adding a minimalistic design on the table set-up. The counters were all wooden with intricate markings on the surface, and a long curved food cooler display was on top of most counters before the cashier area.

What made the place more relaxing were the hanging flower baskets from the ceiling. Different colors of flowers were on top of viney leaves crawling down the basket. A small fountain can be found by the corner as soon as you enter the place. The relaxing classical music playlist was the icing on top of this beautiful place.

Everything was made to make people release their stress and forget the world for a while.

"I'm so excited to have you on board! I know you loved these kinds of places." Aunt Jinah grinned as she patted your shoulders. She glanced at the clock by the wall. "You're 25 minutes early, which is adorable if I may say, and I can introduce you to the other staff now. I'll let Jisoo, my manager here, talk to you about all the things you'll do."

"Yes, auntie." You smiled as you nodded at her instructions. She made you follow her inside the kitchen, passing by the male cashier guy named Hyunjin.

"He's a newbie and a part-timer too." Hyunjin bowed a bit as he was introduced to you. You just smiled and said your name. "Oh, nice to meet you, Saejin noona." He said as he was 2 years younger than you.

Meeting the rest of the crew was a fun event. There was not much to remember as the crew consists of only 7 members excluding Aunt Jinah and you. The baker, Woobin, was in his forties , but still as lively as a teenager and has been baking since he was one. The baristas were Mingyu, a professional one, and Somi, a beginner. The last two were waiters, and on cleaning tasks, Yeonjun and Rocky, both in their second year in college—part-timers like you and Hyunjin. Jisoo was the manager of the crew, in her late twenties and has been close with Aunt Jinah's family.

"I knew this day was going to be better than I'd expected." Mingyu had a boyish grin as he shook hands with you. "You study at The Eve Acad?"

"Yes, I do." You nodded. "In my third year. Still a lot of years ahead to become a professional tho."

"I'm guessing you are a Med student." He chuckled as he leaned on the counter next to him. Aunt Jinah has left you for a while as she returned to her office to call her son overseas, saying that he only has a freetime at 7 in local time. "Must be hard, huh?"

"Well, I'm managing for now." You sighed as you walked to the staff room, where Jisoo told where you can put your things at. Mingyu followed with a curious hum. "But I can't deny it's going to be tough paying for med school."

"Are you still under your parents' home? They pay your tuition?"

"No parents, no guardian." You open the wooden sliding door with a sigh. "Just me."

"Oh, sorry about that." Mingyu parted his lips as he watched you open an empty locker. "That's..."

"...exhausting? Distressing? Unfortunate?" You chuckled, placing your bag inside the locker. Your eyes set on the keychain hanging from the zipper. "It's not so bad." You mumbled weakly before closing the locker door.

"I didn't mean to make you sad or anything. I was just really curious and I wanted to know more about you. And I don't know what else to ask about you even though I really want to know you. I don't even get myself right now, I just keep blabbering nonsense, and—"

You watched as Mingyu stuttered on his words while he looked away embarrassed like a puppy left on the street on a rainy day. You laughed at his panicking state. He just talks indefinitely, letting his emotions take reign over his rationality.

He reminds you of someone.

"You can start by asking my favorite color, you know." You joked as you walked past him, patting his arm as you did. Mingyu let out a relieved sigh before closing the door after you.

"What's your favorite color, Saejin-ah?"

You looked back at him with a smile.

"White."

—

♫ Ch.10

[angeliise]

Day 5: College AU

Warning: Contain Mature content and explicit language 

Words: 4.775

****

“Mm.” Hinata moaned as her boyfriend, Sasuke, swirled his tongue around hers in an intense make out session. She had lost all sense of time in his embrace that the swarm of butterflies in her stomach was no longer a bother. His hands gently massaged her breasts as he hungrily attacked her lower-lip with bits of kisses and bites. “Oh, Sasuke.”

Hinata’s moans grew higher as her nether regions were wetting her undergarments. Oh, how she wanted to pounce on him like there was no tomorrow! But… it always around now that Sasuke made his way to her-

“Nn!”

Hinata shamelessly avoided Sasuke’s gaze. They had been together for 4 years, nearing their 5th anniversary and they hadn’t had sex yet. She was about to say something until she heard Sasuke let out a low sigh before he planted tiny kisses on her neck. When he stopped at a point, Hinata winced at the sharp but quick pain from Sasuke’s teeth.

She felt an unwanted breeze through his body as Sasuke lifted his body from hers. “Babe-”

“It’s fine. I know how you feel around these things.” He said as he picked up his shirt and pants. Hinata’s lips were pursed while he put on his clothes. She knew she was reaching his limit but she didn’t know how to approach the situation accordingly. One big reason being that she believed in sex after marriage. She grew up in a household where traditional views on marriage were still upheld and highly practiced. She never called herself religious, but she was starting to think that she was simply in denial.

“I’ll pick you up on Monday.” He walked over to her and placed a soft kiss on her lips before leaving.

***

When Sasuke entered his car, he dialled a number as he got the engine going.

“Helloooooo?”

“Hey, Naruto, are you free?”

“Sure, same place as usual?”

“Yeah.” Sasuke stepped on the pedal and was quickly off to  meet with his best friend, Naruto. He had always gone to Naruto for advice for anything, really. Although they related to being neglected, Naruto had handled things far better and was always on the happier side. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long he would have held out without sex in this 4 year relationship.

Sasuke parked his car and entered Ramen Ichiraku, their favorite spot. Or, at least Naruto’s. But Sasuke saw it as “their” spot so he had come to love the restaurant regardless. He saw his yellow-haired friend already in the midst of downing his… 4th ramen bowl. Sasuke sighed. “Gross.”

“Who are you calling gross?”

Sasuke took a seat. “You, how can you eat 4 ramen bowls when they are so big?”

Naruto scoffed. “We are here for your relationship issues not my eating habits.”

Sasuke gave him a small smile. Although he hadn’t stated his reasons for wanting to meet up, Naruto had come to know what he wanted to talk about. And no, they weren’t all about his relationships.

Sasuke sighed again when his mind went back to his main problem. “I don’t think I can hold it out anymore.”

Sasuke stared down at his bowl which Ichiraku had placed a few seconds ago. Naruto glared intently as he slurped on his ramen. “Hinata is the best girl I’ve ever had the luck of meeting. When she said yes I seriously thought I was dreaming and she became sexier as the years went by. I was hoping… that she would have loosened up a bit but…”

“She hasn’t.” Naruto finished.

Sasuke shook his head, feeling a bit ashamed over how desperate he had become. But-

“Don’t shame yourself about it. Not that sex should be the vocal point in a relationship, but unless both of you are asexual, what’s so wrong about wanting to do it? Especially when you two have been together for as long as you have?”

Sasuke reached for his chopsticks and separated them. “I know, but-”

“But nothing!” Naruto said, pointing his dripping chopsticks at Sasuke. “Ino and I have been together for 3 years and I’ve lost count of how many times we have done it.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, I think we started doing it after we had been together for 5 months.”

Sasuke frowned his eyebrows. “Naruto.”

“It did give us a lot of time to experiment with our different… erm..”

“Naruto..”

“Oh yeah, ki-”

“NARUTO!”

Naruto put his hand over his devious grin, barely trying to suppress his laughter. “But you get what I mean, right?”

Sasuke stood  up. “I’m leaving.”

Naruto calmed his laughter down. “But, if there’s one thing I remembered during Ino’s exchange abroad,” Sasuke groaned as he slowly took his seat, “it was that, no matter the sex, I loved her. Being apart from her for so long was too much. Life just didn’t feel the same without talking face-to-face, cuddling, holding hands and those small kisses here and there.”

Sasuke bit his lower lip. He watched as Naruto’s goofy self was replaced by a more serious look. That was when he knew Naruto was about to give him some grand advice. “Sasuke, how about you take a break from Hinata this week?”

Well, maybe not this time.

“What are you talking about? Why would I do that?” He spat.

“All I’m saying is, test the ‘Don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone’ saying. Although we never tested it, we realized how unimportant sex can be as long as we have each other. Besides,” he drank a glass of water, “Hinata must be feeling some type of way with making you wait this long.”

Sasuke was resting his chin on his palm while stirring his ramen around. “You think?”

“I know so. She loves you. A lot. And I think this test will push her to take the next step. It’s better than potentially lashing out on her and pressuring her.”

Sasuke sighed. “I guess.”

“Don’t worry. I know it will work out just fine. Besides, it's only for a week. You two are still a pair for the history project next month, yeah?”

Sasuke nodded. He had almost forgotten about their history group work. Him and Hinata had already teamed up as a pair because they worked so well together. They were in their second year of university and this was their last exam before the end of the semester. They were in the last week of November, and their presentation was on the 3rd of Jan. They are expected to spend the whole of December on the topic of history on the Hokages. He could imagine the shitshow it was going to be.

Sasuke sighed. “Kami, have mercy on me.”

****

Hinata tiredly tapped her alarm clock off. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone. Sasuke always came to pick her up and before both of them had even begun their day he would text her to ask if there were going to be a change in plans. She had done some thinking over the weekend and saw it fit to talk about their potential sex life on their way to school.

Hinata tapped her password in and nearly dropped her phone by her boyfriend’s message.

Sorry, I’ll be going to school with Naruto for the whole of next week. Nothing personal, just haven't’ had the time to speak with him for a while. Love you.

Hinata felt her eyes begin to water. From the sigh last friday to this. And for a whole week? Was he reaching his limit? Had he reached his limit? Hinata did not want to know for she could already guess the answer. She dug under her sheets.  No, no, no. She couldn’t let her view on sex ruin the best relationship she had ever been in. She was going to fix things when they saw each other on campus.

****

Hinata had called her best friend, Kiba, and asked if they could walk to classes together and he had agreed.

“So, what did you do?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” She said, looking away with a blush.

“Something big must have happened for Sasuke not to pick you up as usual.”

Curse Kiba’s sharp intuition. Then again, he wouldn’t be her best friend if it wasn’t for that. “Well… I think Sasuke has reached his limit with me.”

Kiba tripped over his step. “Limit? What do you mean? You have been together for 4 years and he is as happy as ever. Boy, you should have seen him before he got with you. Always miserable and sulky and calling me and Naruto at 3am about how his life sucked. Pheesh.”

Hinata chuckled to herself before the frown came back. “That might be so but… in those 4 years we have been together, we have yet to have… sex.”

“What?” Kiba gasped. “I thought- wait what? You two haven’t had sex before?!”

“Kiba! Keep it down…”

“But. How do you explain the hickies? Especially this one. By the size of that one, you would think you went at it for a whole night.”

Hinata squirmed as her cheeks flared up. “K-Kiba!”

Kiba looked at her with a more calm face. “On a serious note though, do you not want to have sex with Sasuke?”

“No that’s not it! I… I do.” She said in a low whisper. “But, I’m nervous.”

Kiba leaned his head on his webbed fingers behind him. “Sasuke is quite experienced, if that helps.”

“It didn’t.”

“What I’m tryin to say is, he will know what to do.”

Hinata plastered her eyes to the ground, speaking in a low voice. “A-am I a bad girlfriend?”

“What?! No, of course not! This is not your fault. You have your views on sex and those should be respected. But having said that… it doesn’t stop Sasuke from getting sexually frustrated. I’m sure that if you just talk it out with him, everything will go well.”

Hinata looked at Kiba who wore a hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you, Kiba.”

Kiba grinned. “We haven’t been friends for 10 years for nothing you know.”

****

When Hinata and Kiba entered the seminar class, Hinata’s eyes darted to see where her boyfriend was sitting. But he was nowhere to be found. Her shoulders fell as the anticipating left her. Kiba nudged her shoulder.

“Don’t worry.”

Hinata nodded as she took a seat with Kiba by a four-man table, leaving the two spots for Sasuke and Naruto.

When the two boys walked in, Hinata’s excitement re-surged. She felt her heart beat faster at how tightly Sasuke's shirt was hugging his lean figure. Knowing the type of chiseled abs lay beneath that made her blush. She at times forgot how hot her boyfriend was!

When they reached her table, Hinata parted her lips in until Sasuke spoke first. “Sorry, I’ll be sitting at the end this time.”

Although he smiled at her, Hinata’s face fell as he continued his walk with Naruto. She watched him take a seat at the back where Ino and Sakura were sitting. Sakura immediately brightened when Sasuke took a seat next to her. It made Hinata uncomfortable as she knew how big of a crush Sakura has on Sasuke. Yes, has. Sakura never claimed to be over Sasuke, and it was because of that, that they never spoke again. Well, he only said this time so…

****

It was not the only time. Sasuke had downright avoided her the whole day. Because Sakura and Ino were best friends and Naruto and Ino were a couple, Sakura had tagged along with them the entire day. She even caught Sakura entwining her arm with Sasuke’s. Who did she think she was?!

Kiba wasn’t in the same evening class as hers and she was bummed because she was sitting all alone. It was rather embarrassing as it had always been her and Sasuke. She was getting stares and could hear the whispers coming from all sides. She was hoping that she would get a chance to drag Sasuke into the seat next to hers.

As her boyfriend walked in, she stood up. “Babe, would you-”

“Sas-u-keee!” Sasuke made a grimace as Sakura attacked him from behind with her arms, pushing him forward and away from Hinata.

She could sense a new round of whispers coming along and took her seat as a result. He really had reached his limit. She cursed herself for being so prone to cry for she a single tear drop escaped her eyes and dropped on her phone screen as she was typing away to Kiba. He had called Sakura a bitch first of all, and then told her to relax and that he had his reasons but… Hinata looked at where Sasuke and Sakura were sitting on a table alone. Naruto and Ino weren’t in the same class either.  

Hinata sighed. She was determined to speak with him after classes.

*****

Hinata had hurried out of class to make it to the parking lot where Sasuke’s car was. He was going to be here any minute and hopefully they could make up. Maybe today would be the day she finally let go of her traditional views. Maybe-

“Sasuke, you are too funny. Haha, stop.”

“Eh…” Hinata watched as Sakura was tailing behind Sasuke. She grabbed Sasuke’s muscular arm and gave it tight squeezes, practically ogling all over it.

****

Sasuke came to an abrupt stop when he found his beautiful girlfriend standing by his car. He knew she wouldn’t leave without an answer. He removed his arm from Sakura’s hold and ignored her annoying grin.

“Sasuke, remember the party is on Friday at my house.” She clapped his shoulder. He didn’t notice the sly smirk she slid at Hinata before she skipped off.

*****

Hinata bit down on the tears. She wanted to cry. She really wanted to run over and claim Sasuke’s as hers and hers only. But… was he still hers after today?

“Babe.” She started, nervously looking down at her feet.

“Sorry, I’m really in need of some sleep-”

“Then let’s!” She cut him off, her voice screaming desperation. She took a couple steps forward, placing her fingers at the biceps Sakura’s hands had grabbed. “Let’s go home together. We can stop by the grocery store to buy c-”

“No,” he held his hand up, “baby, I think I need a break.”

… … …

“A break?...”

Sasuke nodded. “It’s only for this week. Don’t worry, we will still be partners for the project.” He planted a soft kiss on her cheek before opening the door to his car.

“Baby… Sasuke, wait. I’m sorry, I-”

“No, Hinata. I really need this break.” He said as the last thing before she saw him drive away.

He… needed a break. That’s what he had said. A break. From her. His girlfriend. Hinata allowed the tears the run down her cheeks as she hugged her frame in an attempt to comfort herself. She held out of hope that it was only going to last a week. Only a week and then she would show Sasuke how much she meant to him in a way that both of them would benefit from.

****

It was Friday and Hinata had finally decided that in order to show Sasuke how much she meant to him, she would attend the party at Sakura’s. She wasn’t a party person. In fact she loathed anything that involved alcohol, weed and drugs. But she knew that Sasuke only drank. So did Kiba, so she was going to tag along with him for tonight.

She settled for a tight-fitting black dress that reached her laps. She tied her hair in a bun and threw a wool jacket on. She dialled Kiba’s number.

“Yes, Hinata?”

“I’m ready, Kiba.”

“Huh?”

“For the party?”

“It’s still 9pm, though.”

“Yeah, the party already started. I’m worried that we’ll be late and won’t be let in.”

She heard Kiba sigh. “Good grief. I’ll meet you in an hour from now.”

“Eh? But-”

“An hour from now and that’s it.”

*Clank*

Kiba had explained that a party really starts an hour to 2 after the “official time” which Hinata found confusing. But she was doing this for Sasuke.

When Hinata stepped through the door she was close to regretting her decision. She had never been around drunk people and she now she knew why. She saw some people laying on the floor, others too busy eating each other’s faces out, one of the couples being Naruto and Ino and people doing funny stuff on top of the furniture.

She got startled at Kiba’s loud voice. “Hey, hit me up!”

“Hit up?...” She whispered to herself. She was about to ask Kiba until he was gone from her side and was chatting it up with Shino and Shikamaru. Although she was really nervous, the plan was to surprise Sasuke and spend time with him tonight. Since she couldn’t spot Sasuke anywhere in the kitchen or living room, the only solution was upstairs.

Hinata climbed the stairs and saw a door slightly open. Though she was getting nervous she could hear weird noises and she didn’t like it. She wouldn’t like to walk in on the act but if it meant-

“Yes, Sasuke. Right there…”

No… It was Sakura’s voice and-

“Nn, you’re so big. Aahh”

No. Hinata found herself standing outside of the door in the blink of an eye. She carefully peaked inside to clear the misunderstanding. Maybe it was another Sasuke. It must have been because… Sasuke was her boyfriend. Right? They were on a break now but that would all end today. Right? Right?...

“Babe…”

She saw her boyfriend laying on his back with Sakura on top of him, moaning frivolously. She was the lead and Sasuke seemed rather… unresponsive but… it was him nonetheless. She couldn’t believe this. Was he this frustrated that he would rather do it with someone else than ask her? Was he so mad at her that he didn’t even want to pressure her? Her boyfriend of 4 years was having sex with a woman that wasn’t her. Hinata flinched when Sakura faced the door and she smirked at her. When she looked away she latched on Sasuke’s lips, deliberately moaning louder.  She… Hinata was…

… back in her room with her face flat in her pillow. She had lost him. All because she didn’t let go of her views. All because she made him wait this long. It was all over now. And she could blame no one but herself.

*****

Sasuke groaned in his sleep as the sunlight became intruding. He yelped from the sharp pain that went through his head. Oh, another massive hangover. He was feeling so disoriented, he feared he would collapse if he tried to get out of his bed. Though what he found weird was the warm sensation next to him. The last he remembered was being at Sakura’s house for a pre-drink with her, Naruto and Ino. Sakura wanted him to try this new combination she had made herself. And from then everything became a blur. When he tried to think back to the events of last night his brain just hurt. So, instead he rolled over to see where this warmness was coming from.

“Sakura?!”

Sasuke sat up, immediately regretting it as his head began to spin. Sakura groaned in her sleep and calmly stretched herself out, smiling at him. “Morning, baby.”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me, what are you doing here? What am I doing here? What’s going on?!”

“Nn, don’t yell so loud in the morning.”

Sasuke’s temper was increasingly rising. “What is going on.” He demanded with a threatening tone.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Well, you seemed to like my drink a lot-”

“What was in that drink?!”

Sakura swallowed because she had never seen Sasuke this angry. Or angry at all. “Just a little something that I-”

“I swear if Hinata finds out!”

“Well, she kinda has.”

“WHAT?!”

Sakura sat up. “What does it matter? She is selfish for making you wait this long for sex.”

“I love Hinata! I don’t care how long it will take before she is ready. I will wait!”

Sasuke ignored the throbbing pain, the blurry vision and Sakura’s calls. He needed to get out of here. He needed to clear this misunderstanding!

****

Is what he said until he reached his home. How was he going to approach her with this? He couldn’t do it over the phone, neither did she probably want to meet with him. He would have to wait for Monday to talk to her.

****

Monday came and Sasuke was the first to arrive for the history seminar where they would be briefed on their project and whatnot. He told Naruto of what had happened who then proceeded to tell Ino who then proceeded to cut all ties with Sakura. As the class had begun to gather, Sakura hadn’t showed up but Hinata- There she was. She walked through the door looking sleep deprived with dark circles under her eyes. He internally face palmed  at what he had done to her.

When they were told to sit in their groups, Sasuke and Hinata decided to sit in the library. There was nothing but an awkward silence in the air as both were scrambling for words to say. Hinata wanted to ask Sasuke to give her another chance even when she had every right to break things off but… she knew Sasuke would never hurt her like that. But his silence was making Hinata think that he was thoroughly done with this relationship and it made her not want to speak. Sasuke was trying to read Hinata’s expression to see if it was clear to talk it through but everytime he looked she avoided his gaze.

As time went by with either doing anything related to the project, Sasuke sighed in defeat. As much as he wanted to clear the air, the project wasn’t going to write itself. Therefore he divided the tasks and made homework for each one of them. Perhaps she just needed time and he was going to give her all the time in the world.

When Hinata parted her mouth to finally say something Sasuke had spoken up first. “How about you talk about the Hokages from Konoha while I take the ones of Sunagakure. I’ll share the powerpoint with you so we can both see each other’s progress. That should allow us to work on our own.”

Hinata watched nervously as her boyfriend stood from his seat. She hurriedly stood up, grabbing his wrist. “Wait. Sasuke, I…”

Sasuke had his back to Hinata, which was a good thing. Because the sad frown on his face would have been a dead giveaway. She didn’t even call him ‘babe’ as she always did. “It’s alright. With everything that has happened, I think it would be a good thing for us to be, you know…” He trailed off. He hurriedly made his way out, trying his best to ignore her voice. He knew it was the best for both of them.

****

And so a month has gone since Sasuke and Hinata had last talked to one another. It was the last day of December and Hinata had asked Kiba to meet up at the Konoha park. She patiently waited by the swings. Though, she didn’t mind Kiba not being here yet. She has never been hurting for so long and she wanted it to end! She had convinced herself that Sasuke maybe needed time but seeing as he never even texted her to ask how she was must have meant that he moved on from her. Maybe he suggested this idea because he wanted to make it official with Sakura. Maybe-

“Stop making such a face.” Kiba knelt down to her level, removing the bangs from her head. “It doesn’t suit you.” He smiled at her.

Hinata’s lips were wavering. The stream of tears were already falling when she parted her lips. “Kiba!” She cried.

Kiba chuckled as he let her continue. “I don’t care about traditions anymore. I just want Sasuke, my baby, back. I don’t care about what happened at the party because I know he had his reasons. He has been sexually frustrated for so long and couldn’t even tell me because he knew how I felt about it.”

“So,” he said, placing his hands by his hips, “go and tell him what you just told me.”

“But… he probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore…” She wiped her tears and dried her cheeks.

“You silly girl,” he stared Hinata in the eyes, “you know that’s not true. He loves you.”

“Kiba…” Without a second thought, Hinata rose from her seat and dashed towards Sasuke’s house.  

While watching her go, Kiba dialled a number.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, you there? She’s on her way. How are things going over there?”

“He hasn’t- wait, I’m getting a call. It’s him. Be right back.”

Kiba hung up, smiling in the direction where Hinata had ran off to.

****

“Naruto, I really messed it up, didn’t I?”

“Well, it was my idea so-”

“It’s all your fault!” Sasuke yelled over his phone. Because of this stupid test, he had lost the one thing he cared for the most. Hinata. His beloved girlfriend. He should have never suggested that they work on their own. A didn't hadn’t by where he didn’t regret saying that. He missed her. More than anything. There was no way she was going to come back to him. Especially since she never once called or texted him.

“And you agreed to it.”

“Naruto!”

Naruto chuckled. “What are you feeling right now?”

“Feeling?” Was he kidding? “I’m mad! I might have lost the best thing that has ever happened in my life. All because of what? My sexual needs. I  get it, I get it. It’s understandable but… what does that matter if it means that I won’t get to be with Hinata again? I just want to hold her, kiss her, cuddle with her. I will wait for as long as she wants me to.”

“So how about you just say that?”

“But… she’s probably…”

“There you go again making the weirdest assumptions. Just give it a try. I saw her by the park, maybe she’s still-”

*Clank*

“Boy, he could have let me finish.”

****

Sasuke hadn’t given Naruto the time to finish because he hurriedly threw on a pair of pants and a t-shirt and rushed out. The most important thing to remember was a boxed case.

As he neared the horizon, a voluptuous figure became more clear. Her lavender hair dancing with the wind as the evening sun enhanced her pale complexion. “Hinata!”

“Sasuke!”

The two fell into each other’s arms, hugging one another tighter than they have ever held. Hinata nuzzled her face in his embrace as she had longed for this more than anything. To be held by her one and only love, Sasuke Uchiha. “Babe…” She cried.

“Baby..” He said.

“I’m sorry.” They chorused, simultaneously looking at each other. They both fell back at the other’s confession. Hinata finally being the first to speak.

“I’m sorry for making you wait this long. I love you! I love you more than anything else and I don’t want to lose you to my traditional views of sex. So…” She trailed off, trying to find the appropriate words. When she was about to speak, she felt his soft finger on her lips.

“Don’t apologize. I will wait for however long you want me to. If it means that you’ll still be my side then I will wait.”

“Sasuke…” Hinata stood on her toes and kissed him passionately, sticking her tongue in his mouth in no second.

Sasuke groaned by Hinata’s aggressive kiss but did not falter as he reciprocated, holding her closer to him.

When both were running out of air, they separated. Hinata pouted when Sasuke slowly let go of her, to only fiddle in his back pocket. He brought out a mini box which he opened. It was two necklaces. “What is…”

He smiled at her as he wrung the necklace over her neck and gestured for her to do the same with him. His was the Yang symbol while hers was the Yin. He nearly closed the distance between them as he connected the two symbols.“Oh, Sasuke.”

“Baby, I love you. You bring the light to my world. Nothing, nobody or anything will ever change that. I will always love you. Happy birthday,” he took her hands into his, “and happy 5th anniversary.

@sasuhinamonth

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XIII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 -  S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12

Word-count: 3.7k+

A/N: I’m starting to feel like three seasons of slow burn is getting a bit much but I’m super excited for you guys to experience the angst that is 3B. For now though, I really hope you guys like how I wrapped up 3A!! Let me know what you think :)

Oh and there’s like one swearword in this part if you guys need a warning

When the alarm woke you up, Stiles had already left. He left a post-it note on your phone with his reason; that he had to go tell Lydia what was going on before school. He found your mom’s keys and left them on the bedside table for you so you could drive yourself to school. How chivalrous.

The rest of the day wasn’t much better. You didn’t have the same classes as your friends, so you only saw them when the lunch bell rang and you found them in the hallway. You were on the phone with Isaac when you did and he was telling you that Blake had taken Chris in the bank vault. You weren’t really focused on what he was saying anymore because you were watching Lydia drag Stiles into the bathroom.

“Allison and I are heading to school now so-”

“Uh, Isaac? Don’t come to school. I’ll grab the others and meet you at Deaton’s. I’ll call you back once we’re on your way.” You hung up before he had the opportunity to argue with you and shoved your phone into your pocket. Something didn’t feel right.

Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you pushed the door open and went inside. It took you a second to find them, and it felt like your heart was being ripped out once you did. They were kissing. In your hurried attempt to leave, you knocked over a trash can. Stumbling out an apology, you rushed out and ignored their calls after you.

“Hey, Y/N! Y/N, will you please slow down?” Stiles caught your wrist and pulled you back. “That wasn’t- it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“So, what, Lydia was just helping you out with your algebra homework?” you asked, shaking your head. “Stiles, it’s not like we’re dating. If you wanna make out with Lydia, that’s your own-”

“I wasn't making out with Lydia.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I was-” Stiles sighed. “Look, she kissed me, okay? I didn't kiss her back.”

“You didn’t exactly pull away either.” You pulled your hand back and got ready to start walking again, but Lydia made you stop. She had that weird look on her face again.

“Has anyone seen Ms. Morrell today?” she asked.

---

You filed away your anger as you, Lydia, and Stiles rushed to Morrell’s office. When Danielle said she didn’t know why Morrell was late, you all agreed that if she wasn’t on time for a session, then she was probably missing. Stiles started digging through her desk for clues.

“Those files are private,” Danielle told him.

“Yeah, she’s kind of right,” Lydia said. She looked uncomfortable, but her discomfort faded as soon as Stiles started handing out files.

You’d been seeing Morrell when you transferred to Beacon Hills, and when Stiles dug out your file, your curiosity got the better of you. You only managed to skim a few phrases - problems expressing your emotions, defensive, in a sense of denial of why you’d been kicked out of Willow Creek - before Stiles and Lydia started talking again. Lydia’s file was full of her tree drawings.

“It’s the same one I always see you drawing in class,” Stiles argued.

“It’s a tree. I like drawing trees,” Lydia said simply.

“No, but it’s the exact same one.” Stiles came closer and you closed your file so you could be more involved. Stiles grabbed Lydia’s notebook and started flipping through the pages - they were all littered with drawings of the exact same tree. It reminded you of when you used to draw the wolves.

“Okay, you can have my session! You’ve got bigger issues,” Danielle said as she gathered her things and headed for the door. You would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so eerie.

Lydia was breathing heavily with tears in her eyes as she stared at the pages in front of her. “What is this?” she choked out.

Stiles flipped the book around slowly. What you all thought had been the top of the tree, from this perspective, was now a dense root system. Like the one in the woods that Cora told you about.

“I know where they are,” he said.

“Well, are you gonna tell us where they are?” Lydia asked.

You and Stiles shared a look before each grabbing one side of her and beginning to walk outside. “It’s the nemeton,” you explained. “That’s where they are.”

You barely made it ten feet before you heard someone yelling for Stiles. This time it was your dad.

“Alright, look, go to Derek, okay?” Stiles told you and Lydia. “He and Peter have been there before. They’ll know where it is.”

“I’m not leaving you with him,” you said. “Lydia, tell them it’s the root cellar, okay?”

Lydia nodded and walked away quickly, which left you and Stiles just enough time to plaster some smiles on your faces and turn to face your dad.

Rafael nodded at you before turning his attention to Stiles. “Did you know your dad’s car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?”

“No,” Stiles lied. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s officially missing.” Rafael looked down and sighed. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

“Actually-” you put on the sweetest smile you could muster and reached for Stiles’ hand “-I have this really big geometry test Monday and Stiles said he’d tutor me, so we’re just gonna head out if that’s okay with you.”

“Actually, Y/N, no. No, it’s not,” Rafael said. He sounded like he hadn’t slept in a few days. He looked like it too. “I’m going to talk to Stiles, and you’re going to wait in the hallway until I come out to get you.”

You started protesting but Stiles said it was alright. He shook you off and went to speak to your dad. Alone. In private. You mumbled a good few profanities before slumping down in a chair outside the classroom they were in.

You almost didn’t see Deaton through the haze of annoyance you were in, but you stood up as soon as he opened the classroom door.

“Fine,” Rafael said. “But I don’t want you going home alone. Do you have someone you can stay with tonight? Someone who’s not my daughter.”

“He’s with me,” Deaton said.

---

When you and Stiles got to the animal clinic, pretty much everyone who wasn’t kidnapped or playing secret agent with the Alpha Pack was already there. You sat on one of the countertops and bounced your leg while Stiles spoke.

“It has to be on one of the telluric currents - or maybe even at the axis of two,” he explained. “Or where they all intersect.”

“It’s where Derek took Paige when she was bitten,” you added.

“My dad and Gerard were there once. But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn’t remember where it was,” Allison said. She ran a hand through her hair. “And my dad obviously isn’t here to tell us now.”

“Yeah, mine either,” Stiles said softly.

“Then how do we find this place?” Isaac asked, always asking the relevant (if un-answerable) questions.

“There might be a way,” Deaton said after a moment. “But it’s dangerous.”

“When is it not?” you asked, pushing yourself off the counter.

“And we’re gonna need Scott.”

“Why?” you asked. “We’ve been trying to find him since he left and he’s not answering any of us.”

“This is important. He’ll be here,” Allison insisted.

“And what if he’s not?” you asked. “Then what? We just let our parents die?”

“Actually, Y/N,” Deaton’s gentle tone and thoughtful expression sliced through your angry exterior. “Now that I think about it, you should work just as well.”

---

Deaton explained what you’d be doing beforehand: you’d be surrogate sacrifices for your parents. If it went right, you would only be dead for a few seconds. By doing so, you’d give power back to the nemeton - which would make it a beacon for the supernatural again - and the darkness around your hearts would follow you for the rest of your lives. And if it went wrong …

As cheery as the explanation left you feeling, your heart somehow managed to drop further when you stared at the ice baths in front of you. You clutched onto the necklace in your hands as you watched Isaac empty out another bag of ice into the tubs.

“Alright,” Deaton said, “What did you bring?”

Stiles brought Noah’s badge. It looked pretty banged up, but Deaton assured him that it would work fine as long as it meant something. Allison brought a ceremonial silver bullet that her dad made.

“Y/N?”

“My mom, uh, got this necklace from my gran when she turned sixteen. Said it was the nicest thing she ever got growing up. She just about cried when I spilled nail polish on it one day when I was little,” you explained quietly. “But, um, looks don’t matter, right?”

“No, they don’t,” Deaton smiled. “Now, the three of you will get in and each of us will hold you down until you’re essentially … well, dead. But it’s not just someone who will hold you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back. Someone that has a strong connection to you. A kind of emotional tether.”

You and Stiles looked at each other while Deaton was talking, but you looked away quickly. You were still upset with him, and you both had to go under so it wouldn’t matter anyway. You hoped.

“Isaac?” you asked softly. He nodded and put an arm around you. Lydia and Allison were already holding hands in a corner.

“Well, Doc, I guess that means it’s you and me,” Stiles sighed. “And Scott, you know, if he ever shows up.”

Stiles was the first one to stand in front of the tubs, and Allison was the first one to get in. Judging by her reaction, the ice bath was going to be - unsurprisingly - absolutely freezing. You took a breath and then stepped in, slowly descending into the icy water. Your feet were the first to go numb, and then your hands even though they were still above the water. Were you shaking? You couldn’t tell.

You looked over to find Stiles sitting in a pretty similar position to you, except he was staring at you. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” you asked when you were done.

“Nothing. You just look …” he didn’t finish.

“Yeah, well, I know this is serious and all but I just-” you looked down. Your anger felt silly now. “Are either of you surprised by just how fucking cold this is?”

“Yes!” Allison laughed. “Like I get that it’s an ice bath but-”

“Are you ready?” Deaton asked. “If we’re doing this, we should really get started.”

The laughter died down and the three of you nodded gravely. You felt Isaac’s hands on your shoulders and took a deep breath. He asked you something, but you didn’t hear it properly. You just nodded. You were ready. You had to be.

The cold was smothering as he held you under and you thrashed to the surface, even though you knew you had to be still. The ice swirled around your head and you watched the last few bubbles of air in your lungs float to the surface. One … Two … Was that three? Should you be counting the groups of bubbles? Did any of it really matter?

You guessed you were a stronger fighter than you thought, because the next thing you knew you were crashing through the surface, gasping for air. Only, you weren’t in Deaton’s clinic anymore. You were in a big, white room with Stiles and Allison. None of you spoke as you got up and out of the water.

You were the first to go to the big tree stump that felt like an eternity away. The nemeton. The eerie silence only added tension to the situation, but none of you were brave enough to break it. Stiles was the first one to reach for the roots, and the sound of you begging for him to stop was deafening. He didn’t answer. Allison reached out next. Now it was your turn.

You kneeled in front of the tree, closed your eyes, and touched one of the roots. Taking deep breaths, you counted how long you could stay still before waking up. You stopped as soon as the silence broke.

Water was running nearby in a steady stream you could hear the birds in the distance. But what really shocked you into opening your eyes wasn’t the feel of the breeze or the smell of the damp leaves, it was the sound of laughter. Children’s laughter.

“Guys,” you heard a little voice whine. “It’s getting dark. How much longer are we gonna be out here?”

The kid in front of you looked about nine years old, definitely not older than ten. He had the same goofy haircut that Scott had at that age. And his ears were also slightly too big for his face. And the same little-

“Well, we would’ve been out of here an hour ago if you knew your lines.” The little girl rolled her eyes. She was in a tiny white, flowered dress. You had the same one when you were little. She was holding hands with another boy, who could barely contain his laughter.

That was you, Scott, and Stiles. Getting married on top of the nemeton.

“Okay, fine! By the power vested in me-”

Everything went black and you clawed at your throat. Air. You needed air. You reached up and pulled yourself to your feet, ignoring the pounding in your head as you gasped for air.

“I know- I know where it is!” You looked around desperately, needing someone to hear you. You were back in Deaton’s clinic. Scott stood up and rushed over. He picked you up, out of the tub, and wrapped you in a towel. “When did you get here?” you asked.

Stiles and Allison were busy telling the others about what they saw and where the nemeton was, but no one was answering. They all looked like they knew something you didn’t.

“What?” Allison asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You guys were out a long time,” Isaac said.

“How long is a long time?” Stiles asked.

“Sixteen hours,” Deaton answered.

“If we’ve been out sixteen hours then-” you looked at Scott desperately. “The full moon rises in like three hours. Scotty, she has to still be alive. She has to.”

“I know, I-” Scott took a breath. “We need a plan.”

---

“No!” Stiles argued. He was mostly dry now but you knew he was still cold in his bones. “Dude, you are not going back with them.”

“I made a deal with Deucalion,” Scott said.

“Does anyone else think that sounds a lot like ‘a deal with the devil’?” Stiles asked.

“What does it matter, anyway?” Isaac asked.

“He doesn’t think we can win without them,” you said. “Right? I mean, they killed our friends but it’s whatever so long as they kill her too, right?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that.” Scott sounded so defeated and you knew you were wrong to snap at him like that. He didn’t like them any more than you did.

“Circumstances like this,” Deaton started wearily, “Sometimes require that you align yourself with people you’d normally consider enemies.”

“So we’re gonna trust him?” Isaac asked. “The guy that calls himself Death, Destroyer of Worlds? We’re gonna trust that guy?”

“I wouldn’t trust him, no,” Deaton answered. “But you could use him to your advantage. Deucalion may be the enemy, but he could also be the bait.”

It was quiet enough for you all to hear the sound of the door creaking in the entryway. You heard one of the twins asking Deaton if they could speak to Lydia.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I need your help,” he said.

Stiles stuck his head out to glare at him. You felt Isaac squeeze your hand lightly to distract from the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that spiked. “With what?”

“Stopping my brother and Kali from killing Derek.”

---

The plan that formed after that was arguably not your best plan, but it was the plan you were going with nonetheless. Lydia and Ethan went to the loft (Hale Duty); Allison, Isaac, and Scott went to her apartment (Weapons and Cavalry Duty); and you and Stiles went to find your parents (Rescue Duty).

“Will you cut that out?” Stiles asked, annoyance in his voice.

“Stop what?” you asked, still sounding annoyed.

“Bouncing your leg like that and ripping apart my seatbelt,” Stiles answered. “I get you’re mad at me for the Lydia thing but-”

“You think this about you and Lydia?” you asked and rolled your eyes. “Stiles, we are driving through one of the biggest wind storms I have ever seen to save our parents from getting ritually sacrificed. Sorry that I’m a little jumpy.”

Stiles sighed and slowed down slightly. “I’m sorry, alright?” You didn’t answer. “I didn’t know she was going to kiss me. You’ve gotta believe that I- that I wouldn’t-”

“Tree branch!” you yelled. In the time it took Stiles to look back to the road and swerve, you’d already been hit. And when he swerved, he lost traction underneath and the Jeep crashed into the tree in front.

You recovered quicker than he did, but you could feel the blood running down your forehead. As long as you could still move, you didn’t really care about the other injuries you might have. “Stiles?” No answer. You struggled to unbuckle and moved his head off the steering wheel, laying him back in his seat. “Stiles, I need you to wake up.”

You got out of the car and rushed to his side when he didn’t respond. You threw open the door and laid the seat down. “Stiles, can you hear me?” Nothing. You cursed and climbed on top of him, checking to see that his throat was clear. Time for CPR, you guessed. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, listen to me, you little-” you bent down to give him air “-I don’t care that you made out with my best friend. I just-” air “-Need you to wake up. Okay?” Air. “I can’t lose you. Stiles, I- I love you-” air “-and if you die, I’m gonna kick your ass. Alright?” Air. It wasn’t working. “Come on, Stiles, please. I need you to-”

“Ow,” he groaned. “What the hell are you doing on top-”

“Oh, my god. There’s no time!” You pulled him up so he was sitting. You were still in his lap. “Can you see? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Uh, three?”

You looked at your two fingers that were up in a peace sign and sucked in a breath. “Good enough. We need to go.”

The two of you started stumbling, rather messily, to where you thought the nemeton stood. Stiles made you stop to get his bat out of the car and you grabbed your baton from your bag. The ground was collapsing around the nemeton, and it took you guys a minute to find your way inside. Isaac was struggling under the weight of it all. Stiles shoved the bat into the space to give some support, and you did the same with your nightstick.

“I always said aluminum was better than wood,” Noah said. Stiles pulled him into a hug, but their celebration was short-lived. The rubble was quickly filling what was left of the cellar around you.

Melissa pulled you close before you had the opportunity to say anything, and you felt the tears fall on your cheeks. Your mom was whispering all these things about how you were together now and that everything would be okay, but you weren’t listening.

“We need to get out of here,” you said. “Isaac, can you-”

“The eclipse’s started,” he said. “I can’t do anything.”

Turns out, he didn’t need to. In a few seconds, the wind slowed to a stop. The rubble wasn’t encroaching your space.

“Is it over?” Allison asked.

You all slowly took your hands off what was left of the roof, and Stiles reached for the phone in his pocket. “Scott? Yeah, we’re okay. We’re all okay.” He smiled at you, and for the first time all day, you smiled back. “How about you, you okay?” He paused, listening for an answer. “You think you can come get us? Oh, and, uh, bring a ladder. Please.”

---

“Listen, uh-” you looked up to find to Cora standing in front of you. Even though the world as you knew it had pretty much changed forever last night, Cora coming into the library to find you was the most surprising thing today. “Derek says you and Stiles are the only reasons I’m still alive and, um, I don’t know how much of a help he was so I, uh, just wanted to say thank you.”

You moved your bag over so she could sit. “Well, I mean I was the one that technically saved your life. He just kept us from being mauled by the twins so …”

Cora gave you a small smile and sat down. “I’m not really good at this,” she confessed. “Making friends, I mean. But you seem like a good first time.”

You were going to make a joke about promising to be gentle, but you didn’t think she’d find it funny so you kept quiet.

“I know this is sudden but Derek and Peter are going away for a little while.” She looked down. “I was wondering if I could stay with you until they get back. I- I can stay on my own, if it’s a problem, but I didn’t really want to be alone again.”

“It’s not a problem,” you promised. “But we are going to have to ask my mom.” Cora nodded. “And she’s going to make you go to school.” She paled. “But I’ll help you! Seriously, anything you have a problem with.”

“I guess-” she took a deep breath. “That’s a part of being normal. And the only reason I’m not going with them is that I want to be normal so … when can we talk to your mom?”

Part 14

[reylo-solo]

a secret admirer

(rated G; 3536 words)

A Reylo Valentines AU from a cute prompt left by @nite0wl29 where Ben leaves secret Valentines cards in Rey’s locker! Thanks for the prompt, beautiful! I hope you all enjoy the adorableness! Happy Valentine’s Day, reylos! ❤

Read it on AO3.

10-20-30-40.

The lock opened into her palm with one firm pull. Rey slipped it out of its place and pulled her locker door open.

She was expecting to find nothing unusual inside her locker when she opened it, because it was her locker. No one knew the combination to get inside besides her. What else should she be expecting besides the same, small magnetic calendar that was two years out of date, but which she was keeping for the cute photos of kittens? What else, besides the little Polaroid pictures of her and her friends? Or the drawing she’d done of a horse that she was still quite proud of. Or the overdue library books, which were shamefully stashed away in the back, behind her textbooks and binders.

No, she did not expect to find any surprises when she opened the door. And yet, there was one, taped to the inside of her door so that she couldn’t possibly miss it.

A card, hand-made with fine, recycled stationary, decorated with gold leaf accents. Her name was printed in beautifully flowing calligraphy on the front, the ink a beautiful navy blue colour. She gasped as she saw it, and the fact that someone had been in her locker didn’t even hit her, so struck was she by the simplistic beauty of the thing.

Carefully, she pulled off the tape which secured it to her door and, leaning into her locker a little, opened it inside.

The same flawless lettering greeted her, along with something that completely shocked her: a hand-drawn portrait of herself, done in graphite and charcoal. In the drawing her hair was pulled back into her signature triple-bun style, and particular care and attention had gone into adding each freckle that graced the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. Her eyes were downcast; her lashes, long and dark, casting a shadow over her cheeks. It looked like she was studying something, but there was a hint of a smile there upon her penciled lips, as though she had heard something amusing a minute ago. Whoever had drawn this had watched her intently for a little while. They had to share a class with her, she thought.

The other half of the card’s interior was dedicated to a brief but lovely message, which began quite eloquently with the opening stanza of Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heavy to gaudy day denies.

-         Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day from your secret admirer.

P.S. I hope you like the portrait. Though it can never compare to the real thing.

P.P.S. You should really think about a more challenging lock combination. That was far too easy.

            It took Rey another few minutes before she even began to realize how much her cheeks hurt from smiling. She closed the card and clutched it to her chest. She’d never gotten a Valentine like that before! Or at least, she’d never gotten one that didn’t have a cute bear or cartoon character on it, and those certainly never had romantic poetry included with them.

            “Lord Byron…” she murmured to herself.

            They must be in my English class. We just covered Lord Byron’s work a few days ago…

            But…who was it?

            She spent the next two days trying to puzzle it out on her own. This also meant that she had paid little to no attention in her English class since receiving the mysterious Valentine. The entire time her eyes had been secretly jumping around the room, as though she could catch someone staring at her, and maybe doodling in their notebook at the same time…

            She ruminated the possibility of it being any number of people, but none stood out to her. She even thought about it maybe being her best friend, much to the detriment of her own anxiety, but then she remembered that Finn can’t draw, and he certainly can’t do calligraphy like that. No, it couldn’t have been him.

            It was almost maddening, trying to figure it out. She began to second-guess herself. Maybe the Lord Byron thing had been a fluke. Maybe it was someone in her history class, or math. Maybe it was janitor Bob for all she knew.

            Rey was starting to feel down on her luck when she opened her locker between fourth and fifth period and something fell out, gliding down to land perfectly atop her shoes. She bent down to grab it and her heart skipped a beat.

            Another Valentine! Written on the same paper! Oh, and the writing is the same…

        There was no poem this time; instead she found a personalized message just for her:

            Rey,

Still can’t puzzle it out, can you? That’s okay. I’m not giving you very many hints, am I? Maybe I should change that for you. I’m a male in your English class, if the Byron poem wasn’t a big enough clue. We’ve had lots of classes together over the years, but you’ve probably never noticed me before, not like I’ve noticed you.

I saw you looking for me the other day in class, though. You weren’t very sneaky about it, but I didn’t mind. You looked right at me for the longest second of my life, and I thought maybe…maybe you saw it in me, but you didn’t. It’s a good thing – I’d rather you see who I am outside of class anyway.

        Speaking of, Valentine’s Day is only a week away. Think you can guess who I am by then?

-         Your secret admirer

He had gifted her another portrait. This one was done faster than the other, and he’d left it looking half-finished, but she liked it like that. He’d captured her mid-laugh, with that cheesy smile of hers. He’d even gotten her dimples right. Even though his pencil had spent the briefest of time on this page, he’d created something which Rey thought was even prettier than the real thing.

“Whatcha got there?”

Rey jumped and the Valentine slipped from her hands. She bent fast to pick it up but another hand had caught it before she had a chance. Rose Tico’s eyes widened as they saw the beautiful calligraphy on the front of the card, addressing it to Rey.

“Oh, wow…what is this?” Rose inquired. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Rey. “You’re already getting Valentines? What am I saying…of course you are, look at you.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Rey excused, trying to grab for the card to no avail. Rose kept twisting away, keeping it just out of Rey’s grasp. “Can you give it back please?”

“Who’s it from?” Rose grinned broadly and opened it up, her eyes hungrily skimming over the message. She gasped. “A secret admirer?!”

“Shh!” Rey demanded, finally swiping the card away from Rose now that she was distracted enough. “Say it a little louder why don’t you, I don’t think everyone heard…”

“I can’t believe you have a secret admirer! That’s so exciting and romantic!”  Rose squealed, in a much quieter tone. “Who do you think it is? And am I mistaken, or does that message sound like you’d already gotten one card from him?”

Rey sighed, looked at her friend, and figured she had not one hope in hell of keeping this secret any longer. Besides, she thought, she could use the help figuring out who the mystery man was. So, she dug around in her schoolbag and produced the first Valentine, allowing Rose to read it, provided she keep it close to her person so no prying eyes could look over her shoulder and see.

“Wow…this is beautiful,” Rose whispered. “That drawing is…wow…”

“I know,” Rey said, swiping the card back and stowing it safely away, along with the other one.

“Who could it be, though? He said he was in our English class…”

“Yeah, I have no clue,” Rey groaned. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I got the first card and I’ve gotten nowhere since.”

“Hmm…well, two minds are better than one. Let’s go grab some lunch and Nancy Drew this shit, shall we?” Rose offered Rey her arm, which Rey happily took.

“Let’s.”

The two settled themselves in a secluded area of the cafeteria, safely away from prying eyes or ears. First, they had to remember all the boys in their English class, which took much longer than they thought it would. Once they’d recalled mostly everyone (there were a few relatively new kids whose names they couldn’t remember, and so they were referred to as ‘boy with really thick glasses’, ‘boy who wears the same jacket everyday’ and so on), they began to break it down individually. This too was a little tougher than they had anticipated, once they eliminated all the boys they knew to be in a relationship. They were left with about ten viable options after that, and they had to go through each one and decide if they fit the bill or not.

Rey eliminated four of them right off the bat, either because she couldn’t stomach the thought of them leaving romantic notes for her, or they truly didn’t seem the type to think romantically, let alone write in beautiful calligraphy and make lovely sketches. Then there were a couple who hadn’t said more than one word to Rey since elementary school.

Suddenly, Rose gasped and made a low ‘ohhh’ sound.

“What?” Rey demanded. “What is it?”

“What if…no, he wouldn’t…or would he…?”

“Spit it out, Rose!”

“What if it’s Ben?”

Rey went still. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise but she didn’t move or speak for a moment. Rose was monitoring her reaction with keen interest.

Ben Solo. Tall, dark, with a boyish grin, he was alluring in the most unique of ways. He had thick raven hair and deep, soulful brown eyes; his strong, broad frame was built for endurance and power. But he hadn’t always looked that good. Rey remembered a young, gangly boy, with messy black hair and a pasty complexion, whose ears stuck out a little, running around the playground during recess with his toy spaceships, playing games with his friends.

It had been that little boy who Rey had opened her crying eyes to when she had fallen off the swing and hit her head in second grade. He’d been standing over her, blocking out the sun, and offering her his hand.

“Hi, are you okay? Do you need me to get the teacher?” he’d asked, and his voice had had a minor lisp, because he was missing two of his front teeth.

Rey had sniffed and wiped away her tears, not caring if the sand and dirt smudged on her cheeks. She remembered feeling flattered as she had taken his hand and allowed him to help her up. She hadn’t wanted a teacher to come over, and so he had offered to sit with her for the remainder of recess, until her tears stopped falling. And so they had sat together by the swings and talked and laughed until the bell rang, and by that time Rey’s head had stopped hurting, and she had long ago stopped crying.

“Ben…?” Rey whispered to Rose after mulling it over for a moment. “No…no, it couldn’t be. I haven’t had a real conversation with him since…middle school, I think.”

“So? He seems like the type to pine over a girl,” Rose argued. “You know, I’m sure there’s a proper gentleman beneath that surly exterior.”

“But he has lots of friends. Some of them are girls, even.”

“Again, I ask: so? He’s single, isn’t he?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hm, well, I’m just saying. If I had to bet on it being anyone, I’d bet on him.”

Hmm…

*

She didn’t receive another card until Valentine’s Day, and even then she didn’t receive it until the day was almost over and she was cut straight through with anxiety.

During that time between card two and card three, Rey had tried desperately not to convince herself that it was Ben writing them to her, but it was tougher than she anticipated. She’d continuously catch herself absentmindedly referring to her secret admirer as Ben, and then she’d proceed to mentally slap herself for doing so. She hated getting her hopes up; she’d had them crushed too many times in the past.

But she was powerless against the idea that it might be him. The thought of him bent over a desk that looked far too small in comparison, his dark locks falling over his brow and tickling the bridge of his long nose, as he penned her part of a Lord Byron poem and sketched her image just made her feel giddy for some reason. It made the cards even more flattering, and she found herself looking at them repeatedly, reading and re-reading their inscriptions.

She also had found herself watching for Ben, something she hadn’t really done before. She’d constantly be looking past someone’s shoulder, or looking over her own, trying to spot him. Every now and again she’d hear his distinct laugh or his deep, warm voice, and she’d stand up a little straighter and fix her hair.

She hated it.

It felt like he had some kind of control over her. Only he seemed capable of making her palms that clammy. She’d find herself getting annoyed at him from a distance. Who does he think he is? Walking around in his dark wash jeans, with his hair all messed up like that, smiling that goofy smile. What have you done to me, you evil, handsome snake…

One of these times, when she was viciously cursing him in her head, her eyes had actually locked with his across the school courtyard. It had just been for the briefest of moments, but in that time it felt like all the sound was sucked from the world and everything around them stopped moving. Rey’s heartbeat hammered in her ears, steady and loud. There was something there, in the space between them. Something visceral and real and tender.

Or maybe it had just been wishful thinking.

And it was that kind of doubt which had fuelled her panic on Valentine’s Day when she arrived to her locker in the morning, after having practically ran the entire way there, only to find no card inside. And it didn’t help when Rose kept asking after every period of she’d gotten it yet, and Rey kept having to answer with ‘no’.

So when she got to her locker, fully exasperated and confused, at the end of the day as everyone else was scrambling to gather their things and get the hell out of there, and found a letter taped to the outside of her locker, she nearly squealed in excitement.

This one was safely kept in an envelope (which she tore open quite quickly). There was no drawing in this one, only an urgent message:

Meet me in the theatre, right now.

She didn’t even put her books back in her locker. She took them with her as she raced past the swarm of bodies towards the theatre at the back of the school. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and every person who got in her way came perilously close to having their toes viciously stepped on.

This was it, she thought to herself. The mystery was finally coming to a close. She was going to find out once and for all who had been behind all those letters. She was going to see who her Valentine really was.

She braced herself when she got to the theatre doors, taking a deep breath in before pushing them open. Her nerves almost had her trembling.

She walked into a mostly-dark theatre. The only light was a silvery glow angled at the stage, where an old piano sat. Upon its bench was a person, playing its keys slowly and a little awkwardly. Rey didn’t realize she was holding her breath.

Oh my god. It’s him.

The door closed with an echoing click and the piano music abruptly stopped. Ben stood, all six-foot-two of him, nearly knocking the piano bench over in his haste. His eyes landed on hers, all the way across the theatre, and his hands rubbed themselves upon the thighs of his jeans.

There it was again – that crackling in the space between them, like a field of exhilarating static.

“Hi.”

His voice echoed, too; its deep, nervous lull drew her instantly closer. She walked down the aisle towards him, one step at a time, until she had reached the stairs up to the stage. Once there she paused, staring up at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was really there – and a part of her certainly couldn’t believe that. But the rest of her was internally screaming because, damn it, she knew it!

“Hello.” She said, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

He leaned down and offered her his hand. She appraised it for a moment, her eyes roaming over its lines and freckles, before slowly, temptingly, taking it. Their fingers wound around one another and held on lightly. She took the steps up to join him on the stage.

Suddenly their bodies were very close together. She could feel his warmth and smell his entrancing scent. Her eyes travelled up to his face, and she thought her heart was going to jump from her chest when she saw those deep brown eyes lingering on her; looking at her like they never wanted to look at anything else again.

“So? Are you surprised, or did you puzzle it out on your own?” he asked slowly.

“I…had my hopes up that it would be you,” she answered shyly.

He smiled that incredibly handsome, boyish smile, and it was just for her. She couldn’t help but giggle and smile back.

After a moment, she couldn’t help herself from asking, “Why me?”

“Why you?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought you’d know.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Know what?”

“Ah…do you remember back in like, second grade or whatever it was, when you fell off the swing?”

She blushed. “Yes, I do. You helped me up and wiped away my tears.”

“Yeah, and we spent the rest of that recess talking,” he smiled warmly. “I don’t remember exactly what we talked about…probably silly kid stuff. But, I do remember thinking you were pretty, and that you should never have to cry like that.”

“Even then?” she whispered.

“Even then.”

“Then why…why now?”

“Because…I suck. I spent all these years with a crush on you that I could never move on from and I…I was way too nervous around you because of it. I still am, but I just…well, it’s our senior year, so I thought it was now or never. And I realized I really, really couldn’t stand the thought of it being never.”

Rey hadn’t realized until just that moment that they had been slowly getting closer and closer together. When her chest brushed against his she couldn’t help the gentle gasp she made, or the steady pounding of her heart when he didn’t move away.

One of his fingers brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and she wondered, in that brief moment when his skin made contact with hers, if he could feel the heat he’d created upon her flesh. Did he know what he was doing to her? The undeniable nervousness in his shining eyes said yes, he knew firsthand.

“If I never got to see you like this, if I never got to be alone with you again…I think I’d go mad,” he continued, his voice a softly rasping whisper. “If I never got to kiss you…”

“Then do it,” she begged, daring to place her hands delicately upon his chest. “Kiss me, now.”

His fingers trailed along her jaw as he lowered his lips to hers, and she held his hand there, as she felt the roughness of the stubble on his cheek with her other. His lips were soft upon hers at first, and alluring. He was clearly allowing himself to enjoy every tiny moment of their kiss, and it was so romantic of him, but she couldn’t resist the insatiable pull she felt within herself. She wanted more.

Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair and pulled him closer, holding him there, securing him before her. The feeling of his hand travelling down her side and slipping around her waist almost made her moan. It felt like the world was finally giving her everything she’d ever asked for, and she felt equal-parts thrilled and stunned that it had been right in front of her this entire time.

When their embrace finally ended, they looked at each other through half-lidded eyes filled with stars.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Ben whispered.

Rey chuckled and let her head settle on his chest. His arms wrapped protectively around her and she felt as comforted as she had that day on the playground.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ben.”

[iamwhelmed]

The Jisatsu Experiment: Chapter 2

Some people were interested, so here’s the second chapter!

EDIT: If you like my writing, consider my ko-fi? <3

Read it on AO3

Read it on Fanfiction.net

Summary: Years after Conan leaves with no explanation and Haibara becomes a distant Miyano Shiho, Ayumi graduates and heads off to Himura University-- as far away from Tokyo as she can get. She finds it hard to leave Conan and Haibara behind her despite Mitsuhiko and Genta moving on, but the mystery she's about to take on is going to begin unraveling a past she'd repressed, and it's very possible she's bitten off more than she can chew. Just how deep does this case run? Shinichi may just have to step in, but can he and Shiho stomach the mess Ayumi has gotten herself into, or save her from herself?

Katashi was ambitious, very by-the-book; he wanted to join the police force, become a detective, put away the bad guys. He almost hadn't believed her when she told him who she was, that she was a part of that little group of kids who went around foiling illegal plans ten years ago. The Detective Boys, even after Conan's departure and Ai's return to the adult world, had remained in the news for a good while. They spent summers in junior high solving cases around Japan, and Shinichi kept it no secret that he'd taken them under his wing. The Detective Boys were as much a household name as Heiji Hattori or Kaito Kid, though their individual names were little known. When they graduated to high school, that's when their name died down, (that was the year Mitsuhiko found his place at the lead of their class, the year Genta found his love for cooking). Her name stayed out of the papers. She wanted it that way. The Detective Boys were on hiatus, that's what she said. She'd flashed Katashi her badge (she held it on her person still; she told herself it was just in case). Katashi's nose wrinkled before he said "so what are you doing here?"

She didn't have the heart to tell him she was getting away from those memories.

He was a straight-A student, didn't appear to try very hard to keep it that way. He was focused on cracking a case that the police had sort of given up on-- kidnapping cases, a string of them, spanning at least two decades. All children, ages one to three. No suspects, no bodies, nothing. Just a place of suspicion that'd been burned to the ground twelve years ago. They'd found bodies of hired guns, sure, but nobody important. They suspected a trafficking ring, but had never found any trail, and the kidnappings had stopped eighteen years ago. Katashi, smart as he was, couldn't find anything to open the case up again. "Those kids are still missing. They were your age, Yoshida-san. That could have been you." She resisted pointing out that it could have been him, too. The kids would be adults now, and Ayumi admitted she didn't want to think about the grim life those children had lived-- assuming they had. Katashi plopped the case files on the library table, eyes looking as deep with death as Takumi's regularly did. If her face portrayed concern, he'd ignored it with a wave. "I gotta find a way to bring these sick bastards to justice."

She peeled back the first page of the folder and looked one child in its grey eyes. A school photo, black-and-white. She turned the page to find an in-color picture of an even younger child, ball in hand, reaching just far enough so that the puppy sharing the frame couldn't grip it between its small, barred teeth. "Do the police know you took this?"

Katashi's cheeks burned, and he waved her off with a snort.

That didn't answer her question, so she'd take the plausible deniability. "Why this case? If it was closed 10 years ago…"

"Trafficking rings don't just disappear, Yoshida-san. They either got better at hiding, or something even worse got to them first."

She turned the page to find photo after photo of ash, charred skulls beyond recognition, and symbols. She frowned. It was hard to see the carving under the ash, but it was an eye, egyptian-looking, eyelashes looking more like the rays of a sun, lower lid looking like a river thick with eyeliner. Claws, razor sharp, sat below and threatened to swallow the eye in their paws. She'd seen it somewhere before. "Did anything come up about these symbols carved in the floor?"

Katashi shook his head and plopped unceremoniously into the seat across from her, huffing and pouting as he leaned forward and dug his jaw into his palm. She nearly giggled at him; instead, she bit the inside of her lip and shook herself of the tickling urge. "No, a friend told me there was nothing and I didn't believe him. Did some digging myself and he wasn't kidding. No mobs, gangs, individuals, cults- anything- associated with that symbol. It's like it was a company brand or something but…"

"That would have come up in the search results."

"Especially in the police database."

"Did you," Ayumi raised an eyebrow "have clearance for that?" Katashi didn't respond, so she made a mental note. Not as by-the-book as I thought. She frowned and skimmed the rest of the folder. The only thing tying the kidnappings back to that burned down building was a small tuft of unburned hair belonging to one of the kidnapped, even more confusing when the body itself didn't turn up in the wreck. "Have you found anything?"

"No. That symbol doesn't show up anywhere else in this city, and I checked abandoned compounds. So if they're still here, they're well-hidden."

Ayumi frowned. She'd have to do some research herself if she was going to help him with this case. She thought about asking Haibara-- Miyano-- because maybe she'd know if she'd worked for that organization Conan took down before he left, but the thought left as quickly as it came. No, she wouldn't answer the call, Ayumi knew this. Stupid. She shook her head. "I'll do some research myself, see if my friends back home may know anything." Sato and Takagi may be able to help. Katashi's eyes leveled with hers, and he looked at her almost quizzically. He huffed into his hand, chin digging into his palm.

"Oi, Yoshida? Don't breathe a word about this to the other two, okay? I don't think that toe-haired idiot would ever let it go if he knew I asked for…" help. The word was right there, but he was too proud to say it. Ayumi didn't dare refrain, she giggled.

"Right, right, not a word to Youta-kun or Akiko-chan! And Katashi-kun?"

"Hm?" He was avoiding eye-contact with her now, taking the folder and stuffing it into his bag. She smiled to herself and placed her hand on his.

He blinked. "You can call me Ayumi-chan!" Katashi seemed to stare at her for a moment. Was he perplexed? Guilty? His eyes read something of sorrow, and she wondered if she should regret saying anything. "Ah, unless…." Her hand twitched, pulled only centimeters away, and he moved agiley to grab her by the wrist. Ayumi glanced down at their hands, then back up at Katashi. His eyes had narrowed with skepticism, or maybe it was vexation. He was hard to read, always looking like he was hiding something, always thinking, and now he seemed to be thinking about her. She only wished she knew what.

"Oi, give me a chance to respond before you get off pouting."

She blanched, nose wrinkling as she tugged her wrist back. His hand followed, grazing the thin of her arm before letting her go. She crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out, like a petulant child. "I wasn't pouting!" Yes she was, and she knew it. She was always the type to open her heart to the world despite the universe's apparent urge to squash that bit of her at random opportunity. She was just trying to be friendly. Katashi was a friend, last names didn't feel right.

"Heh," he stuck his hand in his pocket and threw his bag over his shoulder, nose in the air as he went for the staircase down. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Ayumi-chan…"

This ice cream was, no contest, the best she'd ever had. She didn't know how Youta found the place, or how that little old man got the chocolate of her frozen choice to be so creamy, but she found a piece of heaven on earth every time she got a perfectly rounded ball on a perfectly folded cone. Youta pointed out that she'd gotten some on her nose; she wiped it away anxiously.

They took this route on the way to class every other day, treated themselves and each other to a snack whenever they could, not that dairy and ice were all that nutritious. Youta practically insisted every time, and there was no way she could say no when he could so plainly see the drool hanging over her chin. The walk was longer than the closest route to class, but this route was better. She'd missed the company in her high school years, and Youta was nothing if not talkative. She found not a moment dull with him yammering on about football or grades or this case his dad was working on; it made her smile. Youta was smart, she could see that, if not overly sure of himself, and he was kind. He got good grades, knew how to wrap up a wound, did statistics like an actuary. He expressed no interest in following his father's footsteps, least of all in becoming a lawyer. He loved the field, the grass-- the ball and the sneakers. Some evenings, she and Akiko watched Katashi and Youta sparring in an empty lawn, feet moving so fast that she could hardly see the ball until it was dead center in the bushes the boys had deemed "the goal". Youta was so alive, then, always shot her and Akiko a smile and a wink, flexed until Katashi kicked the ball right in his face. He was comfortable, warm, like the first ray of sunlight on an early morning. She eschewed his arrogance and his flirting, but she'd dare say she was warming up to the idiot.

Ayumi laughed at the way Youta tried to lick ice cream off the bridge of his nose, then she glanced at the television display lighting up the store window as they passed. The local news station, playing footage of what looked like a convenience store taped off with yellow. She paused, waited for the Headline to go from "National Donut Day" to something more menacing. The suspected trafficking case was still cold for the moment. Sato and Takagi had been unable to help, had never even heard of the case before she'd brought it up. She was left with little challenge, and a small mystery to quench her thirst was just the thing she needed; the local news did not disappoint.

Kidnappings, so far there had been three of them, one for each month of the new semester. All girls, kidnapped from campus as far as last known witnesses could tell. They each turned up seemingly at random, one at the school's pool, another at the cafe, this one at a convenience store. They were each beaten within inches of their lives, burned, shocked, cut, but it was all done with some form of precision (if she was right about the markings she saw in one photograph). The oddest thing, the woman on the screen narrated, was the inexplicable amnesia each girl had. None had a memory of being kidnapped, nor their time in captivity or kidnapper. It was as though their memories had been erased the way one erases footage from a camera, unnerving to say the least when the human brain was involved. Ayumi frowned and took a contemplative lick of her ice cream.

"Ah, don't worry about all that kidnapping stuff," Youta raised a naked arm, other hand pressing his sleeve up until his bare muscles (of which, she would admit, he had plenty) for the whole street to see. He gave her a wink and a boisterous grin, boyish in nature and cocky. "Nobody's gonna take you while I'm around!" Most men, they'd be joking, and some men, like Genta, would be barking about what they'd sooner cower from. Not Youta, she could tell. He was too genuine, too proud and believed himself much too capable to fear much of anything. She couldn't help herself, she giggled.

"Thank you, Youta-kun, but I'll be just fine!" She waved a dismissive hand his way as she passed him. "One white knight is more than enough…"

She couldn't see the way he watched her behind her back, the tender manner in which his brows creased, or the disquiet settling in his eyes.

The library was quiet at night. University students rarely spent time in its great halls studying on the weekends, and even those dutiful enough were kicked out minutes before the sun began to set. She knew some student librarians stuck around, but there were so few in a building with so many floors. Himura, truly, was a school to behold. For the night though, she would be spending her time scouring the shelves, as there would be plenty of time to stare in awe, later.

The second floor overlooked the first floor on a balcony, green carpeted steps leading up with golden accents and chocolate rails that adorned the railings like artsy fences scaling the outlook. There was another staircase to her right, leading to the third floor, but the second floor's closest wall, filled window to hall with books, was her target. She padded up the staircase with a careful hand at the rail, steps light and slow to avoid detection-- theoretically. She just needed to look at a few items, that's all. She wasn't taking anything. She glanced from right to left and bolted (on the tips of her toes) over to the shelf where the recent magazines were. The one from the top, she snatched it and flipped it open on the table behind her.

The articles didn't have much more than the news story did, but it had pictures. Every girl had blue eyes, light, pretty, like polished angelite. They were all eighteen, new to university like she was, though their backgrounds differed. None of them seemed to have gone to high school in the same area, but they all had the same skin tone with some variations in tan. None of them had any family around, maybe that was the key? Ayumi shook her head. No, she didn't have enough information to go there yet. It would help if I knew exactly what was being done to them. If I could get into the hospital…

There was a creak in the wood; Ayumi jumped.

A girl with two braided pigtails leveled her with an even stare despite the proximity of Ayumi's pepper spray posed inches from her face. Hands on her hips, she raised one to her head with a sigh. "Yoshida-san, what do you think you're doing?"

"Chihiro-chan!"

She readjusted her round glasses with one finger, then waltzed by on feather-light feet. One hand slammed down on the table as Chihiro read over the open page, tossing one ribboned pigtail over her shoulder. Ayumi stood by, awkwardly, uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot and twiddling her thumbs. "I- I was just looking--!"

"At the kidnapping case?"

"Just in case!"

Chihiro watched her, one eye glazed over in the light of the window, the other watching her from the other side of her glasses with contemplation. Ayumi did her best to stand her ground, unsure if a librarian was obligated to report her trespassing to the school. That would be quite the way to end her first semester, she had to admit. Going back to Tokyo with her hopes of moving on, dashed before she had the chance to solve as much as one case. She gave Chihiro her best please-don't-get-me-expelled smile. Chihiro took a deep breath. "You have nothing to worry about, Yoshida-san. The girls this creep is going after are all major loners."

Ayumi, still somewhat unsteady from the generous bout of adrenaline processing in her system, approached the table to point at the headline, Third Kidnapping This Semester. "That's nothing new. Most kidnappers go for easy targets. Girls new to the school and unfamiliar with the area are less likely to have friends."

"That's not all, you know. All of these girls had prior write-ups for misconduct."

"What?"

Chirhio pointed to the first girl, then the next, and the last. "This one punched a guy in the face first week. This one was suspended for a whole month after she got caught bullying some girl. This one cheated our second exam week." Chihiro folded the newspaper into the neat square she'd pulled it in, fingers moving with such grace that Ayumi took a moment to notice how few paper cuts she had for somebody who worked vigorously with textbooks and novels. "Besides, you don't have to worry anyway, Yoshida-san," Their eyes met as Chihiro made one last vertical fold.

Ayumi watched her, patiently. Some part of her worried that this was the moment the mallet would fall, that Chihiro would tell her she was reporting her to the campus heads, that she'd have to fight to stay in a university she'd worked so hard to get into.

Chihiro placed the newspaper back on the shelf, turning to her with a red-cheeked pout, and a side-eye that could kill. "No kidnapper would dare take somebody surrounded by admirers seven days a week."

Ayumi's cheeks lit up, and she hurried to deny, deny, deny.

She knew she was groaning a lot, perhaps the measure would be more than that of a bearable amount, but she was tired. Despite hounding and bugging and, in one case, jumping out from behind a tree and startling, the local police about the hospital the kidnapped girls resided in, she'd come back with hands so empty she swore the skin had been scraped off. They'd been kind enough to give her some details-- internal bleeding, burns to the scalp, lots of scarred tissue, and yet no trauma to the cranium (as far as x-rays could tell). They wouldn't let Ayumi see them, talk to them, no matter how desperately she pleaded (though they let her know, when she grew distraught, that the girls were expected to make a full recovery-- which helped, it helped a lot). A lesser girl, or maybe just a girl a few years greener, might have stooped to crying. But Ayumi was a woman now, and no way was a case going to frustrate her to tears. So instead, she'd toss and turn at night and grumble all morning.

"Oi, oi, Ayumi-chan," Katashi nudged her with his arm. "You're annoying. What's with all the unattractive moaning?"

She perked up, unintentionally raising a hand to her lips. "Unattractive?"

"Yeah, you kinda sound like a hungry mountain lion!" Youta's warm smile usually helped, but she was on the receiving end of his taunts this time, and dammit if she didn't feel like making the jerks carry her to class.

"It's nothing, I just didn't sleep well."

"Yeah," Youta taunted on. "What kept you up? The evil witch of Himura stealing your youth?"

"Cut it out! I'm already losing sleep! I don't need to be scared out of bed!"

"Hah hah! Look at your face! You don't think the Witch exists do you?"

"What witch? Stop making things up!"

The group of three passed by the store once more, where the TV display was alive and blaring, painting the screen with cross tape and blue headlines. Katashi watched it as they passed, eyes narrowing as blue and yellow seemed to twist and fall into misshapen hues, fading until the screen was red.

[thesilverstaganddoe]

The Beginning: Psychology and the Law (Killing Eve Fic) Chapter 14

AO3 Link

Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

Chapter 14: Best Case Scenario

On Monday, Eve went to the MI6 offices. It was the first time she had been there since she’d collected her things a week after officially “retiring” and it was a bit strange to be back. She didn’t recognize the woman at the security desk in the front lobby. She peered at Eve’s old MI6 ID.

“Do you work here? I don’t recognize you.”

“I used to. I’m here to see Bill. Bill Pargrave.”

“Do you have an appointment? I don’t see your name on the list.”

“I don’t need one, he’s my old boss, he’ll want to see me.”

“Oh, well, I’m not sure…”

“It’s fine, really.”

The woman faltered for another moment, but something in Eve’s expression seemed to convince her that she didn’t want to keep arguing and she allowed Eve to pass through.  

The office looked much the same, except that someone else had clearly taken over Eve’s desk. There were colored sticky notes lining the edges of the computer monitor and sitting beside it was a photo of a smiling couple holding a little girl.

Eve had already been in a pretty foul mood and it didn’t make her feel any better.

It was early and there wasn’t anyone in the outer office, but Eve knew Bill had a habit of getting in early and, as expected, he was in his office, hunched over his computer, picking at a croissant.

“Hi, Bill.”

He looked up. “Eve! What a surprise! A wonderful surprise, of course.”

She nodded. It was good to see him, of course, but she wasn’t exactly feeling cheerful or particularly filled with a desire to catch up on old times. So, she got right to the point.

“I need help with something. A favor.”

“Okay. Straightforward as always. Is everything alright?”

“I need information on someone. An address, at least, and anything else you can get me.”

“Okay. You’ll also owe me a favor, though, Eve.”

“Fine, whatever you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that. What’s the name?”

“Anna. I don’t know her last name, but she was a teacher at the Gorchakov boarding school about fifteen years ago.”

“That’s not a lot to go on.”

“I have faith in you. You’ve done more with less.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Come by tomorrow, I’ll leave a file for you at the front desk.”

“Thank you.” Eve turned to go and then pause by the door and turned back around. “Bill?”

“Yes?”

“Will you let me into the shooting range?”

Bill raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment. He simply held out his keys.

Normally, Eve’s position at MI6 wouldn’t have warranted her carrying a gun, but after some threats had been made in a particularly difficult case, she received some training and been issued one. After leaving MI6, she’d obtained a civilian license and kept it, but it had always been in a lockbox under her bed that she’d never opened since her departure.

Until that day.

She’d opened it up again that morning, before she left to meet Bill. It made her uncomfortable; it was a reminder of difficult and stressful days. She’d been allowed to keep it with the idea that the threat could potentially remain, even once she’d left MI6 and abandoned the case. But, really, she hadn’t been too concerned; she’d left, she’d done what they wanted. There was no reason to get rid of her anymore.

But she’d kept it, and in that moment she was glad she had.

———-

As promised, a file was waiting for Eve the next morning.

Anna Aanmokoba. The file had a list of basic information, including her ex-husband’s name and her age. She was forty-nine. Which would have made her thirty-five when Oksana was sixteen. Eve’s fingers clenched into fist tight enough that her nails dug hard into her palm.

Fuck her. Fuck her a hundred times over.

It also had her address. She was no longer working at the school, it appeared she was retired, but she was still living close to it.

Eve booked a flight. Somehow, by some grace of a god she didn’t really believe in, there was a flight out of London to St. Petersburg early the very next morning. It had a layover in Vienna, but it wasn’t too bad, less than an hour. The price was exorbitant last minute, but Eve didn’t care.

Oksana texted her in the afternoon, asking her if she wanted to come over for dinner or drinks that night. Eve told her that her friend had had a baby and she was leaving early the next morning to spend the next couple of days with her in Leeds.

Oh, okay.

Eve felt bad. But what else could she say?

———-

When she finally landed in St. Petersburg, she didn’t even bother with the train; she couldn’t focus enough to figure out the Russian schedules. Part of her wished Oksana was with her. She’d make it so simple, converse easily with everyone they came across, charm everyone in their path.

But, no, it was something Eve needed to do alone.

So, she managed to get a rental car from an agency whose people spoke enough English to not make it miserable and by midafteroon was making her way to the address Bill had given her.

It was in Pavlovsk, about an hour’s drive from St. Petersburg. Eve flicked through Russian radio stations as she drove, barely listening to any of them. She paused on one, a host whose voice sounded a little like Oksana’s. Ultimately, though, she slammed her hand down on the power button and drove the rest of the way in silence.

Anna’s house was small, almost cute, if Eve had been in the kind of mood to make such an assessment. She sat in the car outside for a few minutes, considering what she was about to do. She didn’t really have a plan, exactly, she just felt like she needed to do...something.

So she went and knocked on the door.

She didn’t know what she expected, but whatever it was, the woman who answered wasn’t it. She was mousy and she looked old, older than Eve had even expected. Which just made Eve feel even more irritated.

She wasn’t ugly, really, but there wasn’t anything special about her either. Except her hair. She really did have quite nice hair. Eve also found that irritating.

“Hello?” the woman asked.

“Are you Anna?”

“Yes?”

Eve pushed past her into the house.

“We need to talk.”

Anna trailed behind her, not even commenting on the fact that Eve had just walked into her house without invitation.

“Who are you?”

Eve whirled on her and glared. There was no point in hiding her anger.

“A friend of Oksana’s.”

Anna actually smiled.

“Ah. How is she?”

Eve hissed out a breath. “Good. No thanks to you.”

The smile remained, but it hardened a bit. “No thanks to me? I was everything to that girl.”

It took everything Eve had not to slap her.

“Do you seriously think that? You abused her. You forced her into a relationship she was too young for.”

Anna scoffed, the look on her face twisting and growing nasty. “Oh, I didn’t force her into anything. If anything, she pushed it on me. She was a manipulative little snot. And she was obsessed with me.”

Eve really, really wanted to hit her. “That’s crap.”

“I’ll show you.”

Anna disappeared into another room and came back with a large box stuffed with papers. She set it down on the end table in front of Eve.

“These are from her.”

Eve narrowed her eyes at the woman. She didn’t really want to look away from her, but she had to admit, she was curious.

She began to page through them. There were some photos, some of them of Oksana and Anna together, but a number of just Oksana. She looked so young, so innocent, so naive. So easily hurt.

Mostly though, the box was filled with letters, largely written in French, which Eve had actually learned in school. It had been quite a while since she’d spoken it, much less read it, but she was still able to decipher sections of the letters.

My darling, Anna

I miss you.

Do you know the life we could have together?

I need to see you.

You looked beautiful in class today, I couldn’t stop watching you.

Please write to me, I have not heard from you in ages.

My heart longs for you, darling.

Eve felt the rage bubbling up in her chest anew. Anna raised an eyebrow at her.

“See? It was all her.”

“You’re a monster,” Eve hissed.

Anna shook her head. “She’s the monster. She’s a psychopath, did you know that?”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, dear. You’ve got it bad. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she? You know that she’s manipulating you, right? You need to know that. It’ll all fall apart soon enough.”

Every last bit of Eve’s patience was gone; it was amazing that it had lasted as long as it did. She grabbed Anna by both her shoulders and shoved her as hard as she could. She looked utterly shocked as she fell backwards onto the coffee table. It had a glass top and Anna crashed through it in an instant, shattered pieces flying across the floor and embedding themselves in Anna's skin.

Eve pulled the gun out of where she’d had it tucked in the back of her waistband and pointed it at Anna.

“I used to work for MI6 and I still have friends in high places and not just in the UK. If you ever contact her again, I will have you thrown in jail - and that’s if you’re lucky.”

Anna gave her a disgusted look. “You’re just like her. You deserve each other.”

“She certainly deserves better than you.”

Eve's finger hovered on the trigger for a long while, but eventually, with a deep breath, she moved it away. She took the box of letters and photos and moved backwards to the door, keeping the gun pointed at Anna. She never made an attempt to get up, though, and Eve slipped out the door without any trouble.

She set the box in the backseat, got into the front, threw the gun in the passenger seat and drove around the block, where she pulled over to the side of the road and parked again. Her heart was racing and she was gasping for breathing.

Suddenly she found herself crying, huge, hysterical sobs, and she buried her face in her hands and leaned against the steering wheel. She was crying because she was scared. Because she was angry. Because her heart hurt for Oksana. Because what she’d just done was the best thing she could think of to help her and it still didn’t seem like enough.

Because she didn’t know what to do with any of those feelings and it was screwing with her head.

———-

She drove to a convenience store and bought a thing of lighter fluid, some matches, and a bottle of whiskey. She drove, vaguely in the direction of the airport. Once she’d left the residential area, the road mostly ran through endless fields. It annoyed Eve. Fuck Russia.

At some point, after some indeterminate amount of time, a few trees started to appear along the roadside and Eve swerved off the side of the road towards them. She got out of the car, grabbed the box from the backseat, and tossed the lighter fluid and matches into it.

She walked into the trees, going deeper and deeper until the darkness settled around her and she could no longer see the road behind her. She grabbed fistfuls of the letters from the box and began throwing them on the ground. She kept the old photos, at least the ones that were only of Oksana. But the letters ended up in a heap on the ground

She poured the lighter fluid on top, stepped back a foot or two, struck a match, and tossed it on top of the pile. Flames sprung forward instantly and Eve watched them for a moment, letting the heat warm her cheeks and the sparks burn at her eyes. Then, she turned and walked away, letting it burn behind her.

[swankymikehanlon-blog]

The three times Mike saw Stan and the One time Stan saw Mike

“Hi Stan.” Mike stood in front of the grey stone protruding from the dry soil. Flowers, lilacs and hydrangeas to be exact, were clasped in his left hand while an old book laid asleep in his right. The wind had felt like icicles stabbing his exposed flesh and he had to close his eyes a couple of times so they wouldn't sting. 

“I, uh, I brought you your favorites this time.” Mike kneeled down on both knees and looked at the flowers in his hand. Under the winter sun, they looked beautiful, but soon they would wilt. As the others always do. 

“I found a book. And it’s beautiful. You’d like it.” Mike whispered as he took out the flowers from the week before and put the new ones in. He laid the old ones to the side of the of the stone and let out a distasteful and dreadful sigh. He felt his lip twitch as he read the written message over and over again.

Stanley Uris

A son, a friend, and a lovely young boy.

1999 - 2017

He reached across and gently traced the name with his ring finger. He still wore the ring Stan got him for his birthday. Underneath the band, the words “Everlasting”. 

Why? Well they both originally wanted to tattoos of the saying on their left shoulder blade. But they were quite underage. So they both saved up and bought identical rings with ‘their’ word.

“Oh yeah, the book.” Mike chuckled as he retracted his hands away from the cold stone. He looked at the book, cover so simple yet so alluring. He opened the book and flipped to a page that had been marked with a light blue sticky note. 

“I want to read this to you. And I want to read so much more.” Mike looked at the gravestone with sadness. He palmed the slighlty rough page he had opened to and began reading.

The only regret is that I waited

longer than a breath

to scatter the sun’s reflection

with my body.

New stars burst upon the water

when you pulled me in.

On the shore, our clothes

begged us to be good  boys again.

Every stick our feet touched

a snapping turtle, every shadow

a water moccasin.

Excuses to swim closer to one another.

I sank into the depths to see you

as the lake saw you: cut in half

by the surface, taut legs kicking, the rest of you sky.

Suddenly still, a clear view

oh what you knew I wanted

to see.

When I resurfaced, slick grin,

knowing glance: you pushed me back under.

I pretended to drown,

then swallowed you whole.

Mike started to feel an ache in his chest. He closed the book and stood up. He dusted the top of the stone and kissed the fingertips of his hand before placing them lovingly on top. His feet walked off, but his soul remained. His soul remained with his lover.

“You will never guess what happened!” Mike excitedly took the old, wilted, flowers out of the vase and placed the new, fresh ones in. Today he didn’t bring a book, but rather a letter. He opened it for the third time. The first time he opened it was in front of his grandfather who had begun to cheer in joy. The second time he opened was on the car ride here. 

“Dear Mike Hanlon, 

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admission has admitted you to the class of 2018. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements.” Mike finished with a wide smile. He held the paper with fragile hands as he flipped it over to the stone, acting if it were really Stan.

“I can’t believe I got into Stanford. You always did believe in me.” Mike turned the paper around and read it over again. He felt his smile grow wider when he scanned the handwritten signature at the bottom of the page. But, the more he looked at it, the more his smile started to fall. He got accepted, that was the good part. Put Stanford wasn’t in Derry, Maine. It’s all the way across the country.

Mike just sat there. Acceptance letter still in his now clammy hands. He didn’t say anything. He thought. He though a lot. After a little bit he placed the letter next to the gravestone and the flowers. And continued to think.

The chilly day turned into the unforgiving night sky before Mike’s eyes. He only realized it got late when the contrast between his breath and the sky was visibly noticeable. 

“Why’d you take him?” Mike asked. He looked up at the stars, barely twinkling. They looked like little obscure lights mocking the tears that streamed his face. His sniffles were no louder than the chirp of the crickets in the forest behind him. 

“Why’d you take him?” Mike asked again. 

The moon had no answer. Neither the stars. Neither the black blanket that held both things together. And Mike thought.

Maybe there was no answer. Maybe there was no answer at all.

And that night, Mike Hanlon was sad. So was the moon. The only difference was that Mike had no clouds to cover his forlorn face.

His coat reached down to his ankles. His leather clad hands had been tucked away in the depths of his coat. The scarf of color red and soft brown kept the winter air from getting to his neck. It was 8:00 a.m on a Sunday morning. Mike had brought flowers, this time his favorite. Roses. He placed them into the vase but kept one in his hand. He twirled it around, gently, before smiling.

“I’m leaving today.” Mike bit his inner lip. Words wanted to claw their way out of his throat. But he was a knight in shinning armor, and he would not let them win. So he just coughed and swallowed the lump that grew in his throat. 

“I’m not going to see you for a while.” He let the sentence drip out of his mouth like it was a snake. He shook his head and dug his heels into the ground.

“I’m doing this...not only for me. But for us. This is for the both of us. And I’ll make you proud. I promise.” Mike felt the corners of his eyes getting damp. The cold air stung, but he didn’t care. He stepped closer to the grave and leaned down to trace the letters that read his lover’s name. One last time. He closed his eyes and recited something personal.

“Dear Stan...The day I met you. Was the day, I knew...I knew what love was. It was a long time ago. We were just kids. I mean, we’re still kinda kids, huh?” Mike chuckled, a chuckle that seemed to mean something other than happiness.

“But, I remember being scared to admit, to myself, that I loved you. I didn’t know what to do. But then one day...October 14, 2015, you kissed me. And I felt, I felt like euphoria. Like I was luckiest boy to ever live. And then I fell in love with you even more. So the years passed. And you’re gone now. But I continued to love you. I will always continue to love you. You were my first love. And I was yours.” Mike slowly took off the band on ring finger, and let out a breath. 

He kissed the ring and read the engraved writing before putting the rose through it. He placed the rose and the ring on top of the gravestone before standing back.

“I will always love you. My love for you...will always be everlasting. Sincerely, Mike Hanlon. They boy who was taught love by ‘Love’ himself.”

Stan wasn’t lonely. He had the trees. And the delicate birds. And the graceful night sky to keep him company. But Stan still felt a void. A void that would soon be filled. 

He was writing, nothing really, just a few notes. 

Draw another picture of the Blue Finch that visits you at precisely 10:00 a.m

Try on you’re old clothes

Watch another Alfred Hitchcock movie. 

Just the same thing as any other day. He hadn’t aged. Not one bit. He still looked like the same boy. The same boy who had loved Mike Hanlon to death. But then he heard footsteps. Footsteps other than his own. And he stopped, frozen, tapping of his pen ceased. 

“Hello?” 

That voice. The voice Stan had been longing for, for what seemed like centuries. The voice that reminded him of Honey and Tea. The voice that would give him goosebumps in the earliest of the a.m’s. The voice that he hadn’t heard in years.

“Mike?” Stan had stood up, chair almost falling to the ground. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care because Mike Hanlon stood at the door. Hands by his side with an expression of shock. He looked the same. He wasn’t old, no wrinkles seemed to plague his face and no teeth had fallen from his mouth. He still looked like the teenage boy Stan had knew very well.

They both stared for another minute before running to each other. They hugged. And they kissed. And they would never let go.

The moon became sad with me. Days of eternal misery had vanquished my hopes. But I saw him again and the sun smiled. And so did I.

Well, there’s that. And if anyone is confused over the ending, Stan had been in a type of ‘peace’. Yes, lmaoo totally from Vampire Diaries, but if you want to assume they were in some type of heaven, you can. All I’ll say is that ended up together. The poetry that is mentioned is from a book called “Prelude to Bruise” by Saeed Jones. 

[bootayyy369-blog]

Dragon Fire.

Chapter One.

Draco x reader

You're a shy girl who is facinated by dragons. You've had a crush on Draco since 3rd year when he was in your potions class and apparently he's had his eye on you.

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

Warning: chapter one is just a fluff - after this however it's allllll smut! Sexual content and bad language. You've been warned.

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

You looked across the hall to see the sliver haired boy, he was quietly picking at some breakfast, only the short boy was with him today; what was he called again? "Vincent Crabbe, yes that's it" you thought to yourself whilst staring at the two. The short boy was plump and piling up his plate with fruit teacakes, sausages and various other breakfast foods. You yourself had a neat plate of two slices of toast and a single egg on a white plate with a small, but noticeable chip on the edge (once you managed notice it, it was noticeable at least and very annoying). You came back into focus away from your thoughts of the boys name and chipped plate and noticed Draco's stone blue eyes staring at you looking up from his plate. You felt yourself get flustered as your face went a delicate pink. Draco smirked and looked down as his plate again, Crabbe next to him stuffing his face. You turned back round to your chipped plate and tried to recover from the awkward encounter. You had had a crush on Draco since the 3rd year when you had been put in the same potions class. He was sat two rows in front of you and sat next to a girl called Padama Patil who spent half her time making notes half her time unsubtly flirting with Draco, although he took no notice and showed no interest. You could still feel Draco's perfect eyes on you, you couldn't breathe -so you decided to leave. You scooped up your two hard leather bound books that had two or three loose pages sticking out and quickly exited the hall whilst keeping your head down and your books close to your chest. The heels of your shoes making a satisfying clicking noise on the cold stone floor with each nervous stride. You arrived 10 minutes early to your charms class, Professor Flitwick seemed to not be around and the heavy wooden door with the shining brass knob was sealed. You let your back slide down the cut stone wall and sat on the cold floor bringing your knees toward your chest, placing your books beside you. You took a deep breath and tried to relax, you where on your own now it was okay. Well, for the next 10 minutes at least, Draco was in your charms class. You picked up the smaller of the two books beside you and opened it to where the thick piece of red velvet led comfortably. You had always loved dragons ever since you where little, even before you knew you where a witch. They fascinated you, with their ability to destroy yet to be so beautiful. They were complex, misunderstood creatures and you planned on devoting your life to them. When you had found this old book in the library around a week ago you where so excited and you hadn't put the book down since, it had gone with you everywhere so far. But with all your studies and assignments you had only managed to read 367 pages of the 912 the book contained. You where always a quiet shy girl who enjoyed books more than people and enjoyed dragons more than both. "In the late 19th century, Vipertooth numbers once went on an alarming increase and became a serious threat to wizards and Muggles alike. The disease Dragon Pox was originally contracted by wizards working closely with Peruvian Vipertooths, before becoming a widespread wizarding disease." You read aloud quietly to yourself in no more than a soft whisper.

"So you like dragons do you?" You quickly closed your book startled. That voice, that warm voice. You slowly looked up, gripping tightly to your book. It was Draco, just Draco. He was leaning against the wall across from you staring down the corridor, his hands in his pockets a soft smirk on his face. God his sharp jawline. A single lock of hair had fallen astray and sat perfectly just above his brow. He turned his head to face you and looked deep into your eyes and he used his hand to smooth over his hair picking up the stray lock as he did so. You could feel your cheeks burning as he stared. You quietly nodded brushing a lock of your own hair behind your ear. You mustered a small fragile smile. He stepped closer and crouched down to level his face with yours. A wave of his cologne hit you, god he smelt so good. "May I see?" He asked softly placing out one hand toward you. You nodded shyly once again handing over the old worn out book. He flipped open to the page you where reading before he startled you. "Huh, Peruvian Vipertooth?" Draco chuckled, "My father took me to see some dragons for my 7th birthday, I was terrified, my father nudged me and told me to grow up." He smiled softly and handed you back the book. "I did as I was told and grew to be less afraid, the Antipodean Opaleye was my favorite, so beautiful." He sighed "It resides in valleys, which is unusual as dragons typically reside on mountains. It is considered one of the most beautiful dragons, and thankfully one of the least vicious as it favours sheep over human meat." He smiled again "But I suppose you already know all this." He seemed almost bashful. There was a small red tint in the pale boys cheeks as he moved his head to look down the corridor once again. You dug deep within yourself to find words, he was talking to you and now was your chance to respond. "No, I haven't reached that chapter yet" You replied shakily, looking down at your book. His head turned sharply back to you, his eyes grew dark and he smirked as he gently placed a finger under your jaw and lifted your head so you where looking at him again. "You're quite a shy one aren't you?" He taunted. You tell your cheeks must have gone incredibly red as the smirk on his face only got bigger. "Now tell me baby girl, how does someone as pretty as you end up alone so often?" He leaned in close to you. Your heart was pounding, your stomach knotting. "I've had my eye on you for awhile, Little Dragon." He whispered into your ear. You let out a small whimper.

The door that was previously locked opened with a small creek and the sound of footsteps and laughter approached around the corner. Draco moved back his head, his warm breath on your neck gone. He stood up from his crouching position, and walked into the dimly lit class room. Leaving you sat on the floor dazed and flustered as other students began to enter the charms class.

Chapter Two ~

[overly-obsessed-fangirl1]

Immortal Heart- A New Beginning

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, John

Warnings: Character Death

Word Count: 1955

A/N: No beta. Feedback, please :)

“4 weeks ago, a family was killed in a fire. Reports say that there were 4 charred corpses, adult male and female, female in her late teens-mid 20s, and a teenage boy. Later, only the parents and son were recovered. Then this girl was killed in a hit-and-run. Witnesses say she flew 20 feet in the air, landing on her head and breaking her neck. On the way to the hospital, she gets up, knocks out the EMTs, and escapes. 2 weeks later, a girl matching her description is stabbed in a bar fight. Assumed dead, again leaves the scene. Then last night, the same girl gets shot in the head during a misfire. Again she walks away.” John dropped another newspaper on the table with each story.

“Zombie?” Dean asked eagerly.

“Could be,” John replied.

“Or it could be a vampire, or a werewolf, or a million other things,” Sam grumbled irritably.

“What’s up with you?”

“We’ve been on the road for 10 days straight. Can’t we stay in one place for a while?” Sam snapped at his brother.

“Well, Sam, now that we have a case, we will,” Dean shot back.

“Enough!” John scolded. “Sam, quit whining. Dean, Sam’s right. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Which means…”

“Research,” the boys responded together.

You couldn’t believe your luck. You’d been killed 4 times in as many weeks. Granted, you couldn’t die, but still. Not only that, you had just settled in with a new family when the stupid stove blew up. Now, on top of all that, the only road out of town was under construction. Thankfully, you hadn’t interacted with many people before you “died,” so you didn’t really have to flee, but you knew it was only a matter of time before someone recognized you.

Since you were stuck, you figured you might as well study up. You thought that you had learned everything about everything by now, but new monsters just kept popping up. Jogging up the library steps, you almost collided with 2 boys coming out.

“Sorry!” you said, stepping out of the way.

“No, no, sweetheart, we should watch where we’re going,” the older one drawled, running his hand through his hair. He looked about 16. With a start, you realized he was checking you out.

Before you could do anything more than smile, the younger boy (maybe 12?) tugged on his friend’s sleeve.

“Dean, we gotta go meet Dad,” he said.

“Hang on, Sammy,” Dean hissed.

“Dean, we have to go.”

You thought you heard a hidden meaning in the boy’s words. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw something click in Dean’s eyes.

“Go on,” you said, taking a step back towards the doors. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You turned and entered the building before he could say anything, silently laughing. The poor kid thought his brother just ruined his chance of hooking up with you.

A few minutes later found you seated at a table in the back with a stack of lore books. You were so invested you didn’t notice the person approaching until he plopped down in the chair across from you.

“Hi again,” Dean said, making you jump. He chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

His eyes widened roamed as they roamed over the books spread out around you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing with stuff like all this?” he asked carefully.

“Oh, just research for a school project,” you lied.

“It’s summer.”

“I’m dual enrolled, and taking a class at the community college.”

“Miss Smarty Pants, huh?” he teased.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked.

“Just trying to make conversation.”

“I thought you had to go meet your dad.”

“The road is closed, so Sammy went with him to find a motel, and I decided to try to get to know the girl we almost ran over.”

“That’s sweet, but I really need to get through this,” you said, turning your attention back to the books.

“So what’s this class on?”

Inwardly sighing, you looked back up.

“Mythical monsters. I need to identify them based on a data set I’m given.”

“Sounds interesting. Can I help?”

Resigning yourself to the fact that you weren’t going to get rid of him any time soon, you pull out the file you had put together.

“People who have no history of depression, anxiety, or suicidal tendencies are killing themselves one after the other. All of them said shortly before that a loved one had told them to go to them. All the loved ones are dead. So, I need to figure out which monster is responsible.”

Dean reached for the file, but you moved it out of his way. Your tale would fall apart if he saw the newspaper clippings.

Suspicion flickered in his eyes, but was quickly replaced with thought.

“A loved one calling out to them, luring them to their deaths,” he mused. Suddenly he sat up straight. “What were the exact words that the people heard?”

“Um, ‘Come to me,’ I think,” you replied, flipping through your notes. “Yeah.”

“It sounds like a crocotta,” Dean said. “They used to hide in the woods and call unsuspecting people to them by using the voice of a loved one. It would then eat their soul.”

Excitement building, you opened the lore book in front of you to the section on crocottas. Dean was right. Scanning your notes, you saw everything matched up. The best part? It said how to kill them. Somehow, a 16-year-old had solved a problem you’ve been wrestling with for a month.

“You got it!” You gathered up all your stuff and half-ran to the door, mentally running through a list of supplies you’ll need to catch the crocotta. You were out the door before you realized you had left Dean inside. Hesitating, you decided that preparing was more important than manners, and you continued to the place where you were squatting.

“I’m telling you, I don’t think she’s a monster,” Dean said again.

“You’re only saying that because you like her,” Sam snapped.

“She’s been in 4 situations in which she should have died, and she’s still walking,” John insisted. “She’s not human! We’re killing her, and that’s final.”

“How?” Sam asked. “I mean, if we don’t know what she is-”

“Then we try everything,” John stated. “We know she’s not a ghoul because she survived a headshot. So we either need to cut off her head or use silver. So we’ll cut off her head with a silver blade.”

Turning to Dean, he asked, “Are you going to be able to do this?”

After a brief moment, Dean lowered his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Go find her and tail her. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

Going back over the file, you were able to find the person who linked all the victims. They all employed the same handyman shortly before their deaths. Certain this was the crocotta, you set to working a pipe out from under the sink. Soon you had a crocotta-killer. It only took a few tries to figure out how to best create a point with an old rotary saw that you had found. Glancing at the clock, you hid the pipe under your jacket and head out to watch the suspect. You didn’t notice the boy following you.

Killing the thing went a lot smoother than you anticipated. He really wasn’t that bright. You simply walked in the door he conveniently left open and stabbed him from behind. You found his shovel, dug up his back garden, dumped him and covered him with his flowers. You were looking for bleach when you heard the snick of the front door. Slowly you stood up, hand going for your knife.

“Don’t move,” a deep voice said. A gun cocked. “What are you?”

“I’m the maid,” you lied. “And if you don’t tell me why you broke in-”

“Stop bluffing,” the man ordered.

You shut up.

“You’ve died four times in the past month, yet here you are. So, what are you? Vampire? Werewolf?”

A sinking feeling began to build in you stomach. “I don’t know what-”

“Dad, I don’t think she is a monster,” a familiar voice said.

“Dean?” you asked in surprise as he came around the corner.

Dean’s eyes flickered over the scene, and you saw the moment he put everything together.

“That assignment wasn’t for school, was it? It was a case. You’re a hunter.”

Shocked, you just stared at him. This sixteen-year-old was a hunter? What kind of parent raised his kid in this life?

“I’m guessing whoever lives here was the crocotta, and you killed him. Judging by the stain on the floor, you were clearing up when we interrupted you.”

Dumbly, you nodded.

“Dean, enough,” the man said. “She’s something and it’s not a hunter. She should be dead but she’s not, and now she’s just killed a man!”

“But, Dad-”

“No, Dean. She dies.”

With that, a silver blade swung from behind and separated your head from your shoulders. Suddenly you couldn’t feel anything but falling, and then a sharp pain as your head hit the floor. 

After the family stuffed your body in their trunk (kindly putting your head next to your neck), you began reassembling yourself. The pain from the nerves, muscles, and bones reknitting caused you to black out. When you came to, back in one piece, the car was driving down what felt like a gravel road. Wincing, you reached up to the bobby pin you always kept in your hair only to find it had fallen out. Groaning, you settled down to wait.

After an hour or so, the car rolled to a stop. Tensing, you leapt out when the trunk opened, colliding with a very startled Sam. You both tumbled to the ground, and your stiff muscles made you slow in getting back up. The cold barrel of a gun against the back of your neck caused you to freeze in a crouch.

“What are you?” asked Dean from in front of you, eyes wide.

“Human!” you insisted.

“No human I’ve ever met is immortal,” his dad said, but he removed the gun.

“You’re hunters, right?” They nodded. “So you know witches.” Another nod.

“I was cursed,” you explained, sitting with a hmph. “My lover died and her ma blamed me for it. She cursed me to live forever, experiencing loss for eternity.”

“So every time you die…” Dean said, realization dawning.

“I get put back together,” you finished. “And it bloody hurts, so don’t kill me again.”

“Dad,” Dean added, “it could be useful to have someone who can’t die with us.”

“Not now, Dean.”

“And I’ve wanted a sister,” Sam chimed in.

Their father looked from one pair of pleading eyes to the other, sighing.

“I’m John,” he said, putting his gun away and offering you his hand. “You’ve met Sam and Dean. How would you like a family that understands your world?”

Elated, you took it. Some forged paperwork later, and you became the eldest child of the Winchesters, and after a few years, and new forged documents, the middle, and then again a few years later, the youngest, as the boys aged but you didn’t.

The three of you were thick as thieves, until the night of the fight, when Sam stormed off and went to Stanford. Though you would visit, you were never as close with him after that as you were with Dean. You stayed through the whole mess with Azazel, and the Apocalypse, and everything else that came your way, grateful for your new beginning.

[adriennefrank]

The speech that never was.

Three years ago I was asked to share my story at an Oral Cancer Awareness event.  They had technical difficulties and I never shared it.  Side note:  Isn’t that what we all prayed would happen during speech class in high school?  Some sort of apocalypse/technical issue that would prevent us from stuttering our way through a speech about Abraham Lincoln?  Anyway, I dug it up in preparation for my next speech on January 28th.  I’m so much more of a writer than a speaker.  You have to be really good to get away with jokes in a speech.  They are hard.  They fall flat very easily.  Writing is much easier.

Anyway, here is the 2013 speech:

My name is Adrienne- I am a 3-time oral cancer survivor and today is my 31st birthday!

I think after the age of 10 (or maybe 21?), it is no longer socially acceptable to brag or make a big deal about your birthday.  I have never seen birthday decorations at Party City that have the number 31 on them, but I don't care. Birthdays are so much more significant and monumental after facing cancer three times. I am thrilled to be getting older- each day that I have with my son is a gift.  I realize how quickly that can be taken away.  The scars and wrinkles on this body are battle wounds that I am proud to bear.

I was first diagnosed when I was 24, almost 7 years ago.  I have never been a smoker or much of a drinker, so I didn't really give a second thought when my dentist found an ulcer on my tongue.  He, on the other hand, was so concerned that he pulled some strings to get me into see the oral surgeon the next day for a biopsy.  I am so thankful that he realized how serious of a situation it was.  A few days later, I got a call with the results: squamous cell carcinoma.  To say I was caught off guard is an understatement.  What?  I thought.  I wanted to tell the doctor that this couldn't be- I am 24 years old!  I am healthy!  I have no family history!  There is no way that I have cancer.  I remember calling my parents who live in NC to tell them the news over the phone and saying the words for the first time, “I have cancer.”  Over the next few months I had 2 surgeries (removing 1/3 of my tongue), chemotherapy, and radiation.  Oral cancer is not a “popular” cancer like, breast cancer.  Most of my friends and family weren’t even aware of this type of cancer, making the diagnosis that much harder and isolating.

Once I recovered and got back on my feet, I started training for a duathlon.  I knew that I had been given a 2nd chance and I wanted to be healthy and take care of my body.  Now I am no athlete.  I remember in high school, my best friend and I joked about falling and breaking a bone just to avoid gym class.  A duathlon was SO out of the norm for me, but I wanted to challenge myself, push my body in new ways, and live life to the fullest.  It was emotional to stand at the starting line like we will in a few minutes and think back on the past year in my life.  I remember blinking tears away and thanking God for all He had done for me.  It felt very profound to run a race after going through such an intense medical experience the year before.  A few weeks after completing my duathlon, my doctor biopsied a lump in my neck and found that the cancer had recurred.  I was the healthiest I had ever been and my body now had to go through another major surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation.  The doctors told me that I probably would never be able to lift my right arm again and that the chemo could cause infertility.  I remember waking from surgery and the first thing I did was try to lift my arm.  It felt like it weighed 200 lbs, but it went up!   God was kind to me and protected my arm as well as giving me the gift of becoming a mom almost 3 years ago. Recovering from my 2nd cancer diagnosis was much harder- both physically and emotionally.  I didn't "bounce back" and felt frustrated.  I would guess it took about 6 months after treatment ended for me to feel like myself again, but it did and life went on.

Last week should have been my 5 year cancer-free anniversary.  October 17th, 2013 has been in my head for years- once you make it that far out, doctors say your chance of a recurrence decrease significantly.  I was so excited to have made it....until July 1st rolled around and I heard the words again "squamous cell carcinoma."  An ulcer in my mouth concerned my ENT and she biopsied the spot. The cancer had come back- this time in the floor of my mouth, close to my jawbone.  I had surgery at the end of July and am still in the recovery process.  I just went back to work full time last week and am still eating mostly soft foods.  I don't know how much time it will take until I return to my new normal, but I am hopeful that it will be soon.

Once your life has been touched by oral cancer, you are never the same.  That is often a good thing.  The new perspective is a gift.  Doctors have no idea why I have had cancer 3 times now at such a young age.  While I never would have chosen to have cancer be a part of my life- I have learned that cancer can be one of the best teachers.  What I had feared the most, ended up being the most life-changing.  It has made me realize how blessed I am to be alive each day.  God has used it to shape my faith and to teach me to trust Him, no matter how bleak the situation.  He cared for me as I walked through each of these cancer "valleys".  My friends and family have been by my side through each decision and diagnosis, supporting me with their kindness and prayers.

Each time I went through treatment, I had nerve damage.  As the nerves regenerate and re-grow, they are ultra-sensitive and lead to a lot of pain.  You have to go through the pain before you get the reward of repaired nerves.  It feels like a picture of cancer- you go through pain, but there is hope that the lessons you learn will shape you into a kinder, more compassionate person.  I don’t know how I would have made it through this process without trusting that there was a purpose- my faith truly got me through.

If any of you are facing cancer today, I would love to talk with you and encourage you through your journey.  When you are in a place that feels like no one understands, I understand and would love to encourage you as you move throughout this life-changing process.

Thanks for letting me share my story today.

[peppurthehotone]

Aye-yi-aye! The past couple of days have been r-o-u-g-h! Hormone Rita has been raging but on top of that, I had to acknowledge that while I thought I was “past it”, my no-kid grief still lives in me. Yesterday I described it to Matt that I feel like little pieces of shattered glass live above me and they just hang out there sometimes reflecting light and others times missile down on me and stab me in my happiness.

My therapist told me I’m pretty good at helping myself and last week I mentioned to you all that I use my writing to help myself and that we all need to find something like this to stay high in order to stay afloat when things start to get wonky. So yesterday, I tried to take my own advice and put my head down and I got to work. Two new clients kept me busy (one for speech writing and one for copy editing her marketing book). I am grateful. And I also got back to working on my ancestry book, which was nice.

Alas.

If you’re following along, while during my residency, my goal was to write 30,000 words of my new novella. They didn’t have to be good words, but I thought, I can write 30,000 words in a month. Welp, last Sunday, three days before the end of the residency, I was only at 23,951 words and I freaked out. I started crying. I was in a beautiful home, seated at my own personal desk, in a quiet room with no one to bother me; I had all the things I yearn for and there I was at my computer crying. I knew I was having a form of a panic attack built up from self-imposed pressure exponentially souped up by my Instagram posts touting my daily numbers.

<blockquote class=”instagram-media” data-instgrm-captioned data-instgrm-permalink=”https://www.instagram.com/p/B37655AleEI/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading&#8221; data-instgrm-version=”12″ style=” background:#FFF; border:0; border-radius:3px; box-shadow:0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width:540px; min-width:326px; padding:0; width:99.375%; width:-webkit-calc(100% – 2px); width:calc(100% – 2px);”>

View this post on Instagram

</a> <p style=” margin:8px 0 0 0; padding:0 4px;”> <a href=”https://www.instagram.com/p/B37655AleEI/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading” style=” color:#000; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; font-style:normal; font-weight:normal; line-height:17px; text-decoration:none; word-wrap:break-word;” target=”_blank”>What's Hot? Inspiration! Day 22 Bookcases inspire me. Those writers of the books on those shelves were exactly where I am right now. 15,234 words and wondering what to write next! #writer #residency #ancestry @thesquirefoundation</a></p> <p style=” color:#c9c8cd; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px; margin-bottom:0; margin-top:8px; overflow:hidden; padding:8px 0 7px; text-align:center; text-overflow:ellipsis; white-space:nowrap;”>A post shared by <a href=”https://www.instagram.com/peppurthehotone/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading” style=” color:#c9c8cd; font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; font-style:normal; font-weight:normal; line-height:17px;” target=”_blank”> Peppur Chambers</a> (@peppurthehotone) on <time style=” font-family:Arial,sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:17px;” datetime=”2019-10-22T21:52:50+00:00″>Oct 22, 2019 at 2:52pm PDT</time></p></div></blockquote> //www.instagram.com/embed.js

I was feeling like a failure, even though I knew (this time) that I wasn’t one. So, through the tears, I sent an SOS to my support girls. We are a group of six black women who have been together for almost ten years and we help each other with everything from freak-outs like this one, to motherhood stuff for those on that journey, to job referrals to snarky stuff to  vagina creams. I messaged them:

“Matt says to think about changing the goal so I don’t beat myself up and still feel good. That feels like I’m being a wuss. But I did set the goal, no one else did. Or do I just say I will be happy with whatever I accomplish? I’m getting stressed. Started crying this morning. Not worth it to cry.”

My dear friend Morenike sent an audio clip back with the best advice, which I call, “The Goal is Not The Thing”:

https://blogtoprague.files.wordpress.com/2019/11/audio-from-peppur-chambers-1.wav

After listening to this, more crying ensued which was simply a true release of tension. I felt redirected and I was able to continue! I decided that I would use the remaining time to organize and research and to let that “30k” go. It was THE best thing to do and glad I did because I didn’t allow myself to ruin what had been a wonderful experience. I posed  this picture to remind myself. #Winning

So yesterday, I got back into the story for the first time since being back and I was happy I had my notes to refer to and knew where to start up again. I looked at all the questions I have to answer about character and themes, and I wrote a dope paragraph on fear coming from a father perspective to his daughter, and then I got interrupted and had to do something else. But I realized I’d worked on the book for a good solid hour and that made me happy and I walked around in gratitude for awhile and I felt better emotionally.

Something else that made me feel better yesterday is that I received an early birthday present, sort of. For my birthday this year, which is Friday November 8th (best.day.ever), I made it a *goal* to have a completed draft of Harlem’s Awakening Pt 2. I had sent off my current draft to beta readers on Oct 1 so they could review it during my residency and therefore, when I got back this week, I could work like a beaver and chop away at their changes and voila have a completed draft on my birthday. Once again the goal was a little lofty. Not gonna make it. BUT, I did receive the notes. Yesterday I received great notes back from my reader friend Ruthy who four years ago read my manuscript and was like, “What the heck is this? Please tell me you didn’t send this to anyone.” Which I had and the agent passed and then it took two years to recover from the disappointment and now I’m back! So, Ruthy says this is a much better read and that there are still problems, but much better! My mom is my second reader, I know — family: not the answer — but she is my 1940s expert and her comment was, “Not enough time-period stuff”. So, I have that to work on. And a new author friend, Katherine Ross read a few chapters. I met her while doing a reading earlier this year and her debut book, Black Was Not a Label  just dropped this month (please support!). She commented that the pacing is good, it feels colloquial in places and Magdalena may need some fleshing out. This is all great news; I’ve got work to do on my birthday and that’s what I’ll be doing!

One more “random” thing:

While I was in Santa Barbara, my new friend Sophia (who runs SoFar Sounds SB) told me about this amazing shop on State Street called Random. It is exactly that. A random flea market+vintage shop+bookstore+holy crapoloa I love it store. There are boxes of things like jeans and buttons and kitchen tiles and paintbrushes everywhere. I wandered to the back and found a box of someone’s personal stuff. This happens all the time; people pass away and then their stuff ends up in a world of Random for people like me to find.

Because I’m heavy into researching on Ancestry.com and would love to find anything random on my family, when I found this box full of vintage family photos, I got suuuper excited. As I dug further, I discovered this box most likely belonged to a WWII photographer (or someone who enlisted and was good with a camera). I really hoped that some of his war-time photos would have just even one black person and I could hope that maybe it was someone to whom I belonged. Alas, that wasn’t the case. However, it is the case for someone else. So, for Veteran’s Day on 11/11, I’m going to write a special blog post about the box and show more photos from it in the event that maybe we can find to whom these pictured people belong.

Their patch is for the 100th Infantry Training Division. While this is a staged shot, according to Wiki, they were called into active duty on 15 Nov 1942 and were sent into combat to St Remy France on 1 Nov 1944.

Family Day?? I love the ladies in the background.

Ann Caudiff (?), 25 mos, Dec 25, ’51

I love this photo. I’ve begun to research this “Ann” to see what I can find. So along with the Chambers family, Nigeria and Igbo culture,  I’m now researching a bunch of people I don’t know.

    Aye-yi-aye! The past couple of days have been r-o-u-g-h! Hormone Rita has been raging but on top of that, I had to acknowledge that while I thought I was "past it", my…

[letthesleepingdoglie]

From Whence He Sprang - 09

Title: Never Left or Right

Part: 09 of 18

Rated: M

The Batcave

Gotham City

January 17th, 2012

17:24 EST

Team Year One

“You look like crap.” Artemis noted as she stepped off the open elevator platform that had brought her down into the Batcave.

Dick tore his gaze from the screen in front of him and turned to look over his shoulder at his friend. At least, he tried to. The movement was stiff and sluggish on account of the many bandages and stitches covering his exposed torso. It had taken Alfred the better part of an hour to patch up all the wounds that Dick had received from the fight last night, and the last thing that he wanted to do was tear all the meticulously stitched cuts open.

Now that the adrenaline from the events of last night had worn off, each and every one of the wounds he’d received ached and throbbed as he moved. The fight with the mysterious assassins had been so intense that he didn’t remember receiving half of them.

“You should see Bruce.” Dick grunted as he finally managed to complete his turn.

“Seriously?” Artemis asked, an expression of surprise on her face. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen the dark knight seriously injured. “What happened to you guys?”

Dick shrugged. “Assassins, sword fights, explosions. The usual.”

A cursory glance told him that she must have come straight from school; she was still wearing her hated Gotham Academy uniform.

“What brings you all the way out here?” He asked her, which was a valid question. Batman didn’t have a Zeta Tube installed in the cave, and Wayne Manor was a relatively long trip from her home in the East End.

It was Artemis’ turn to shrug. “You missed class. I was worried.”

Dick suppressed a small smirk, though he tried to hide it. Artemis always put on a tough front so that people wouldn’t see how vulnerable she truly was, but it was always endearing to see that she cared.

“Plus,” she continued, pulling a handful of papers from her backpack, “Barb wanted me to make sure you got your homework.”

Dick groaned, but took the papers from Artemis and flipped through them. It wouldn't take more than an hour to get through, but it would be tedious, and he had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

Artemis took advantage of Dick’s momentary distraction to glance at the screen that he'd been working on. A meaningless scroll of names, numbers and code flashed across the screen.  “What’re you working on?”

“A difficult case.” He put his homework to one side and hit a few keys on the bat-computer’s keyboard, bringing up the relevant files and images for Artemis to skim through.

“About two weeks ago, Batman and I met a kid named Jason Todd and sent him over to the Catherine Hershey school. Yesterday, we got word from Commissioner Gordon that he’d gone missing. We went to the school to see if we could find any leads on what happened to him and ended up being ambushed by a group of assassins working for something called the Court of Owls.”

He pointed up at the corner of the screen, where the image of a man with inverted eyes was displayed. “He was their leader. Called himself Shrike.”

Artemis frowned as she looked at the picture. “What’s the Court of Owls?”

“We have no clue.” Dick sighed in frustration. “The assassins blew themselves up when they realized that they were going to lose. We’ve been looking since the attack and haven’t found anything. Batman’s never heard of it, and I can’t find any references to it in anywhere.”

Artemis’ frown deepened. It was rare for Batman to have never heard of something. “Do you have any leads?”

“Not many.” Dick admitted. He gestured over to the side, where several items sat arranged on top of a high-tech scanning bed. The mask that Robin had removed from Shrike. The swords and throwing knives the assassins had dropped in their fight. Charred pieces of limbs and barely identifiable chunks of tissue.

“Most of the physical evidence was obliterated in the explosions. We’ve run their DNA through all the databases we could and come up with nothing. Their gear is also untraceable. We’re analyzing what’s left, but nothing yet. Batman’s back at the school, looking for anything we missed.” Dick sighed. “All we really know for certain is that the Court of Owls is good.”

He tapped at the keyboard again, bringing up a series of case files bearing the GCPD’s logo. “Look at this.”

Artemis moved so that she was standing next to Dick’s chair and peered at the display. Dozens of names and faces populated the screen, each identifying a child between the ages of 10 to 13. “What am I looking at?”

“GCPD missing persons reports. Specifically, children listed as missing from the Catherine Hershey School. Notice anything?”

Artemis frowned. Some of the kidnappings stretched back decades, with some going all the way back to the 70s, when the GCPD had started keeping track of missing kids. She realized what she was supposed to be looking for as she read the dates listed on the files.

“Like clockwork… One kid disappears every four years. Jason was just the latest.”

“Right.” Dick confirmed. “And those are just the disappearances that we have official records for. Unofficially, I managed to dig up reports of similar disappearances stretching all the way back to the school’s founding.”

“Why?” Artemis asked, incredulous. For a school to have this many missing kids… Granted, this was Gotham City, but still, even accounting for the fact that a boarding school oriented towards strays and orphans would probably have more runaways and disappearances, how had someone not noticed?

“I don’t know.” Dick said. He was clearly frustrated, which was understandable. He’d been trying to come up with the answer to that question for the last few hours. The problem was, he didn’t know if that was the right question to ask.

At first, both he and Batman had based their theories on the assumption that Jason had been kidnapped because someone was trying to bait them; after all, it was a common enough strategy amongst their regular rogue’s gallery. But now that he’d dug deeper and found the reports of serial disappearances, he was forced to come up with new theories to work around.

It was like trying to put together a puzzle, except he didn’t have all the pieces, he didn’t know which pieces he had were useful, and he had no idea what the final image would look like.

Knowing that a child’s life was likely on the line, his inability to figure the situation out was maddening.

“Any ideas?” Dick asked her. “I could use a fresh pair of eyes on this.”

Artemis hesitated, considering how she could best contribute. It wasn’t that Artemis thought she wasn’t smart enough to help, or that she was intimidated by the fact that her mentor wasn’t a world renowned detective. The simple truth was that most of the things that she could think of right then and there would have already occurred to him. If she wanted to help, she needed to draw on the resources and skills that she had exclusive access to.

“How good were the assassins who attacked you?” She asked.

“Very.”

“League of Shadows good?” She pressed.

“No. Better. Much better.”

Artemis considered that for a moment before pulling out her phone. “I’ll ask my mom if she heard of anyone like them when she was part of the League. They try to keep tabs on anyone that has skills like that.”

“Thanks.”

As Artemis took a few steps away so that she could call her mom without disturbing Dick, an automated notification popped up on the Bat-computer’s screen to tell him that the detailed scan he’d been running on the assassin’s bodies was done.

“Whoa…” Dick breathed as he read through the results.

Almost every biological sample that he and Batman managed to collect displayed some evidence of either chemical or genetic manipulation. For example, the assassin’s blood contained cells that looked like normal platelets, but upon closer inspection, appeared to function much more effectively, clotting in a matter of seconds rather than minutes. Fragments of bone revealed that their skeletons had been coated in a porous material that allowed biological materials to pass through, but was as strong and as light as titanium. There were even remnants of organs that the bat-computer didn’t recognize as human.

No wonder he hadn’t been able to find a match in any of the databases he’d looked at. Even something as fundamental as their DNA had been re-written to include what looked like distinct strands of animal genes. This was almost Cadmus level gene-manipulation; there were parts that barely looked human anymore.

It wasn’t just the sheer scale of the enhancements that Dick found overwhelming, but also the amount of time it must have taken to implement them. He’d seen full body augmentation and reconstruction before, of course, but it wasn’t something you could do all at once. Even with advanced tech from STAR Labs, someone undergoing this much surgery and gene therapy would need, at best, several years to adjust to all the changes being wrought on his or her body.

Years… Dick realized with a start, as a disturbing thought crossed his mind.

Working quickly, he minimized everything on the computer screen except for the picture of Shrike’s face that the cameras built into his mask had captured, then opened up a program that had been designed for forensic investigators so that they could “age” pictures of young children to find out what they might look like several years after their respective disappearances.

Dick ran the process in reverse, taking a scan of Shrike’s face and reversing the aging process so that it displayed an approximation of what Shrike might have looked like at the age of 12. Granted, the image was very, very, very rough, but at least it gave him something to work with. He ran the image through every database concerning missing children that he had access to, both within the US and internationally.

Even with a super computer as powerful as the one that was built into the Batcave, the search still took a few minutes.

That gave Dick a moment to ponder. And to hope he was wrong. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Artemis was done with her phone call until she was standing next to him.

“Nothing.” She told him, tucking her phone away. “My mom says she’ll ask around though.”

He looked over at her. “Are you sure? I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”

Artemis waved his concerns away. “It’s fine. She knows how to take care of herself. Besides, I think she likes being able to help with hero stuff. It gives her something to do besides sit around the house all day, you know?”

“Mmm.” Dick conceded. He could empathize with that.

He sighed, rubbing his face, giving his eyes a rest. He’d been working non-stop on this since the ambush last night. Just because he was used to long hours of work didn’t mean that it never caught up with him. It was just hard to focus on things that seemed as trivial as food and sleep when someone’s life was on the line.

“Are you alright?” Artemis asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Dick said, pushing himself upright in his chair. “It’s just been a rough day.“

“You should get some rest.” She said. Dick glanced at her. He recognized that tone. Despite phrasing it as a suggestion, Artemis’ voice made clear that she was prepared to frog march him upstairs if she thought it would be necessary.

Oh, to have an big sister like Artemis.

“I’m just gonna finish this search, then I’ll grab a quick nap.” Dick promised.

Artemis crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he’d made a similar promise to her, only for her to return hours later to find him slumped over the keyboard, fast asleep.

“I will.” He insisted when she didn’t budge.

She continued to stare at him for a few moments longer before she uncrossed her arms. Inwardly, Dick breathed a sigh of relief.

“Fine.” Artemis said as she made her way back towards the elevator leading up to the manor. “But if you don’t give Zatanna a call by the time I get back from the Cave, I will beat the crap out of you.”

“Fair enough.” He conceded.

Artemis rolled her eyes, but gave a quick wave goodbye as the elevator doors slid shut.

The computer chimed in with a notification, letting him know that the search was done. Facial recognition had found a relatively close match for a child that had gone missing in Oregon.

“Matthew Board.” Dick said to himself, reading the name at the top of the report. Born to David and Serena Board, September 1975. The youngest of four children. Reported as missing January 16th, 1988. The official notes listed it as likely the child had run away from home.Interestingly, it hadn’t been his parents who had reported Matthew as missing, but a teacher at the school he had gone to. He ran a quick check and found that both the mother and father had criminal records, mostly for drug related offenses, though there were more than a few citations from Child Protection Services as well.

Dick’s discomfort was starting to grow. It felt like the picture on the puzzle was starting to become clearer. Matthew matched Jason’s profile almost exactly. A child from a rough background, around the age of 12, whose disappearance wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

This being the United States, which maintained a national database of missing children, there were DNA records for Matthew on file that Dick could access. He pulled these up and compared them to the samples that he had recovered from Shrike.

After Dick edited the sequences of animal DNA and removed them from the analysis, they were almost a perfect match.

Shrike was, or had been, Matthew Board.

Dick’s blood ran cold at the realization. Whatever the Court of Owls was, it had been kidnapping children in order to turn them into super-powered sociopathic killers. They’d been doing it in Gotham for years, decades even, right under their noses.

And he and Batman had put Jason right in their path.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The Labyrinth

Location Unknown

Time Unknown

Jason knew he was going to die.

That was his only rational thought as he stumbled forward through the dark, displaying none of the learned caution or stealth that he normally would have used. In truth, he was so consumed by the realization of his impending demise that he was scarcely aware of his surroundings, moving forward out of stubbornness rather than any real hope of going anywhere.

He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The way he would die was irrelevant. Cut apart by another booby trap. Bludgeoned to death by the fists of ferals and torn apart to be eaten. Finally succumbing to the gnawing pit of hunger and thirst that was welling up inside of him. It would all mean the same thing in the end: dying, alone, down in the dark.

Strange, to think of his death in such dispassionate terms. In a way, the only thing that surprised him was the fact that he was still alive.

He hadn’t seen any signs of life for…

He didn’t know.

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t care.

Lorena. Joseph. Chris. Sean. They all probably thought he was dead.

Maybe they were right. It certainly felt like he was in hell right now.

For all he knew, they were the ones who were dead. The tunnels reeked of so much decay and abandonment that he couldn’t really believe that there was anyone friendly left in the world. Moving through the darkness, still covered with clotting blood and other visceral filth, he felt so cut off and isolated from everything that nothing felt real.

One of the few reassuring things he still felt was the weight of the knife in his hand. He vaguely recalled prying it, his own hands still sticky with blood, from the grasp of a fragmented skeleton that he’d tripped over as he’d stumbled through the dark. Judging from the size of the remains, it had probably belonged to a past aspirant. One who had fallen into the blood pool, just as he had, and somehow died, just as he would.

The knowledge had scared him at first. He had stared at the knife for a long time, knowing that he could have turned the weapon on himself, ended all of the pain that he had endured and the pain sure to come by slitting his own throat.

The prospect had, admittedly, been tempting.

But Jason hadn’t done it. Instead, he thought back to when he’d found James’ body.

His friend had known he was going to die the moment he realized he’d been caught in the floor trap that had dumped both of them down here. Even with everything that had happened to him, he’d gone down fighting, quite literally tearing the guts out of his feral killer.

Even in death, James would have avenged himself had Jason not intervened.

That seemed like a good example to follow.

If Jason was going to die no matter what he did, he wanted to die doing something, die fighting his fate. As much as he wanted the suffering to end, he wouldn’t take the easy way out. As much pain as it would bring, he would keep moving, resist, even if brought him to the bitterest of ends.

Jason clutched his looted knife tighter and kept moving forwards.

It was as good a direction as any other.