#maybe not everyone who follows me signed up for the abrupt change where i start stumbling around trying to learn to draw

[anodymalion]

local man experiences a moment of rest for first time in entire fucking life

[thesoulesscollection]

Storms

Request: A bad storm is about to hit the government base and characters are prepping in case it gets pretty bad (like power outage etc) friendly or romantic depending on who the focus characters

I decided to do background characters, Liam Rogers & Konrad Bukowski here since I love focusing and putting love onto unseen characters. As well, I may have slightly steered away from the idea, more focusing on during the storm then preparing for it. 

"Never woulda thought a storm could get so bad around here?" Liam hopped out from his favorite and biggest aircraft the military had with a thud, his feet burying into the dusty ground below. "Sorry we had to cut that flight short. General's orders. I imagined we would've had more time but mother nature doesn't wait for anybody" 

"It's fine" Konrad reassures the pilot when exiting after him though he sat down on the edge and pushed himself off. 

"Hm. Cool... Those dark clouds came outta nowhere? Then it really hit, did it? Thought we would have more time but whatever" 

"We should probably head back to base. I heard it's only going to get worse from here" 

"Yup" 

Turning around halfway to face Konrad, the helmeted pilot simply nodded, shoving his hands into jacket pockets. Facing away they made a slow beeline towards their base where the younger followed by his side. In retrospect maybe they should've been a bit quicker to head back however Konrad wanted to still spend some time with him despite the upcoming bad storm proving to be a deterrent. Maybe one can call it awestruck what he was for the older man as a fresh faced soldier who wasn't here longer than a year yet. So he stayed close, practically glued onto the pilot's hip, he took short, curious glances up at the darkening sky.  

A couple times Konrad thought he saw lightning strike the Earth in the midst of heavy, never-ending rain as they flew in the sky. Then came the obvious signs when literal light flashing before his eyes occuring too close to the plane when it hit the dirt ground leaving sear marks. He was startled shitless he could still smell the lingering smell of musky smoke clouging his nose after the abrupt strike happening over half an hour ago.  

"How's your brother doing? Haven't seen him in a good while?" 

Huffing at the topic change Konrad didn't want to have and it was a buzzkill when his twin brother was brought up, "Doing fine, I guess? He's been constanly goofing off. Not taking this serious. That we're here in the military. When we first started as newbies we almost got kicked out" 

"Eh… He is a bit much… I've been hearing around here that he's been flirting with Charles? The other pilot beside me if you didn't know" Liam replied, sympathy laced in as he looked out ahead. 

"I know who Charles is. One of a kind up and coming pilot or whatever…. And what my brother is doing should never be called flirting. He's pulling a stupid joke cause his name is Calvin and Charles' last name is Calvin" 

Once they returned to base, already it begun to rain, the two men didn't separate like what was expected, and instead of going to his own Konrad entered Liam's place to stay low during the remaining storm. Inside Inside realized the power was already snuffed out so they were met in pitch darkness. They've like everyone been told prior to thoroughly prepare for the inevitable power outage and they couldn't do anything about it. Simply put they had to wait it out until the storm settles. 

"Wow dude. Seems you are dealing with a lot on your plate there, huh? Sorry. Try not to worry too much, okay? Keep it with the flow, that's what I do" Spoken calmly in a scratchy voice, Liam naturally a chill guy to be around, and Konrad was truly amazed by it alone. 

"Don't worry. I. I may be overthinking things. Been stressed recently. I didn't mean to dump it on you. You just wanted to show me how your plane works and some tricks. Or whatever" 

"No worries, my dude" Liam reassures him, chuckling boisterously as he sat on his cot, "The hail like rain going out there is dumping a whole lot more then what you did" 

"Still-"

"Don't. I get it. When I first got here a few years back in your standing, I was in the same boat as you. I was an anxious kid who didn't like being in large crowds or having people rely on me. You get over it in no time so no rush" 

Reassuringly patting on Konrad's shoulder, the two soon sat in peaceful silence just talking, and listening to the lashing storm outside. 

[skinnyducky]

monsters (pt. 2 to maneater) // v.h.

This part went through so many changes. At one point, it was a backstory and at another it was a twilight fanfic. But I think this is where it should’ve went. Besides that, this is very much inspired by Supernatural and Teen Wolf and those sorts of shows. So, hope you enjoy!

link to part 1

Word Count: 1942, slightly edited

WARNING: language, sexual themes, mentions of blood/gore, partying, and supernatural creatures :)

---------

Your eyes shot open and sweat trickled down from your forehead. Your chest heaved up and down as you felt around, the feeling of rough leather coming in contact with your palm. Your sight became clear, and you were relieved to find yourself still in Vinnie’s car. You didn’t know what the hell that was about, but you knew something wasn’t right.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Your boyfriend, Vinnie, asked. He kept his attention on the road, shooting a few worried glances your way. “You look like you just had a nightmare.”

You leaned back in the passenger seat and gazed out the window. “No, no…it wasn’t that. This felt real, like I was actually living it, y’know?”

“What was it then? Was it a vision?”

“I think so,” you sighed, reaching for your water. “It was hard to tell. It was weird.”

Vinnie softly chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t expect your visions to be normal. What was this one about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

You nodded. “You, and me. We were going into a room and-“

“I think I know where this is headed, Y/n.”

“No, it wasn’t one of those dreams.” You replied. “I was some sort of monster, and I was about to eat you.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Vinnie quickly pulled over and turned to you.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked.

“You know why I stopped, Y/n. You just had a vision, an important one at that.”

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes at him. Your visions—or “gift” as Vinnie likes to call it—was something that came in handy in your line of work. Being hunters for the supernatural, your visions aided the two of you in finding clues and the whereabouts of monsters or entities. But unlike those visions, this one was different. Never have you been the leading actress in your visions, let alone have Vinnie guest star. That’s why you weren’t taking this as serious as he was.

“You know how they work, Vin. I don’t have visions with me in them. I haven’t even had a vision with you in it.”

Vinnie sighed, “Remember what your grandmother told to you?”

“Yeah, that I’m different from most psychics.”

“And your visions don’t just let you see things before they happen. They actually let you live through the people within them.”

You sat there confused, trying to figure out what he was trying to get at. “I’m having trouble understanding. Are you saying that I can sometimes live through others in my visions?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“If that’s the case, why were you in it? You’ve never been in them.”

He shrugged, starting the car back up. “Maybe it’s a sign or something. Maybe the person you were living through had an emotional connection with whoever they attacked. Just like you and me.”

“They didn’t though. It was at a party, and they didn’t know each other. Whoever the woman was lured her prey in.”

He paused. “Did you say it was at a party?”

“Yeah. I don’t know who’s party though. Just that whoever’s party it was, you…or the guy…was very unhappy about being there.”

You heard Vinnie gulp before he did a hard U-turn and sped down the road. You clung to your seat, fearing that this may be the end of your life. “What’s wrong, Vinnie?” You asked, gripping onto your seatbelt tightly.

“Jett.”

“I don’t understand. What about Jett?”

“Jett’s at that party, Y/n. He texted me an hour ago saying that some of the boys dragged him out and he’s bored out of his mind. Y/n, he’s me. Well, not me, but the guy you saw in your vision.”

“That makes sense.” You responded, chewing on your bottom lip. “If Jett’s in trouble, then we have to save him.”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you.”

It didn’t take you that long to figure out that the party was none other than at the D’Amelios’ house. It was a single release for Dixie, and she was throwing a huge party in celebration. Obviously, due to your work you and Vinnie couldn’t make it. But, given the situation…you wished you had shown up earlier.

“So, what do you think we’re dealing with?” You asked, following Vinnie in the house.

“You said she lured him in so…possibly a siren?”

You shook your head. “She didn’t sing to him, though. It was a look.”

“Gorgon maybe?”

“Why would a monster eat a statue?”

“I don’t know? For minerals?”

You ignored his statement and looked around for any sign of your friend. “If not a siren, and definitely not a gorgon…then maybe it’s-“

“A succubus.” Vinnie interrupted. “Look, we need to split up and try and find Jett before he becomes Jett à la carte. You check in the main room, and I’ll check the kitchen and the bathrooms.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You muttered, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Why not? We’d find the two of them faster that way.”                                                

“We’ve only dealt with one succubus before, and that one alone was a bitch. This one can’t be any different. We need to be cautious.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Y/n, we can’t play it safe this time! Our friend’s life is on the line!”

“And I understand that, but if we go into this gung-ho…then we’re more likely to scare her away and lead her to some other poor guy. I know Jett’s life is at stake here, but so is a bunch of other peoples.”

At that moment, a scream rang out through in the crowd and the music came to an abrupt stop. You gasped, dropping to your knees and covering your throbbing ears. Vinnie fell next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“That wasn’t just your average scream was it?” Vinnie asked.

You kept your hands on your ears. “That was a banshee. While her screams are normal to a human…”

“…for the supernatural, it causes pain.” Vinnie finished.

You nodded, steadily getting back on your feet. everyone stopped dancing and mingling, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

“Jett’s not dead yet, is he? You know, with banshees being walking Geiger counters for death and whatnot.”

“No, Jett’s not dead. Don’t you remember? When banshees scream, it means that someone is about to die, not that they have already passed. It’s a prediction, just like my visions.” You explained.

The two of you saw a wailing Charli being carried out of the room by Noah and Chase. You raised an eyebrow and said, “Would you look at that. I think we found our banshee. Now where’s our succubus?”

You scanned the crowd, finding no sign of anyone feeling the effects of Charli’s scream. The succubus wasn’t there. You then remembered the two leaning up against walls, but surprisingly, there was no one clinging to them. Then, you looked to the stairs where you saw a familiar brunet making his way up them. There was no doubt it was Jett and judging by his state, the demon had him right where she wanted him.

You tapped Vinnie’s shoulder, gaining his attention. “They’re headed upstairs…just like in my vision. Ugh, why didn’t we think to go up there first?”

“It’s fine, Y/n. As long as we know where he is, we can get to him in time.”

Just as you two were about to embark on your quest to save Jett, the music resumed, and a herd of people got back on the dancefloor. You and Vinnie tried your best to push through the sweaty bodies, but it proved to be much more difficult.

“C’mon idiots, move out of the way!” Vinnie yelled, on the verge of decking people in the face. You on the other hand, had a sweeter disposition, nicely excusing yourself. After some time, you had finally got to the stairs and flew up them. Reaching the top, you both were met with no Jett and no succubus. There was, however, an elongated hallway with many doors.

Vinnie groaned, lacing his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Great, we lost them.”

“Maybe not.”

You closed your eyes and tried to remember your vision as vividly as you could. You steadily breathed in and out as it began to replay in your head. In seconds, your eyes shot open revealing nothing but ghostly white orbs. You stepped to the first door on the right. The minute your hand touched the handle, you were back to normal.

“It’s this one!” you spat, bursting through the door.

You and Vinnie ran inside, finding an unconscious Jett on the floor. Vinnie hurried to your shared friend and checked to make sure he was alright. You searched around the room in search of the demon to no avail.

In the midst of walking back over to Vinnie and Jett, you felt some light hit your shoulder. After feeling the spot, you took a look at your finger, seeing it painted with blood. Your breath hitched as you slowly looked up. There the succubus sat, hanging from the wall with a sick grin on her face and blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. She roared and dropped from the ceiling, falling on top of you.

“Vinnie!” You screamed, wrestling on the floor with the demon. Vinnie’s attention shot over to you and without hesitation, he charged at the succubus, punching the beast dead square in it’s jaw. She fell off of you and Vinnie took this chance to straddle her.

“Keep her steady, Y/n!” Vinnie ordered, reaching into his jacket pocket. You did as he said, planting your hands on the demon’s wrist, keeping her from moving too much. She flailed around, speaking in tongues and shouting out profanities.

Finally finding it, Vinnie pulled out his father’s bestiary. As he flipped through the pages, the succubus stopped moving and stared daggers at you.

“I know about you,” she cackled, “Y/n, the youngest psychic of your family.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/n!” warned Vinnie.

You ignored his warning and responded to the demon. “You don’t know nothing about me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Down in hell, we know all about you. And we can’t wait for you to join us and your whore of a mother.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from fear…but from rage. You looked to Vinnie, watching as he stopped on a page. He glanced up at you. “You ready?”

“Kill the bitch.”

Vinnie read off a vanquishing spell and upon doing so, the succubus began to cry out in agony. You struggled to contain her but after a few minutes, she stopped squirming. Her cries silenced as her body dissolved into boiling liquid, creating an acid pool of flesh and blood.

You let out a breath of relief. “Well, that was easier than the one in Devil’s Kettle.”

“That’s because we were amateurs then.” Vinnie replied as he stood up, bringing you with him.

You smiled, patting him on the back. “I gotta give you props on that punch. It was actually kind of hot.”

“No one can do it like me.”

“Don’t let my compliment go to your head.”

He pouted and then turned to a frightened Jett. “You okay, buddy?”

Jett softly nodded, shooting the two of you a shaky thumbs up. “N-Never better. How’d you know I was in trouble?”

Vinnie pointed over at you. “Visions. Only, she didn’t actually see you. She saw me.”

“O-Oh,” Jett said. “I guess, t-that’s cool. Thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome.” You laughed, turning to Vinnie. “We did good, babe.”

“We sure did. All in a day’s work.”

“And onto the next adventure.”

[j-amespotter]

★ the last great american dynasty - s. b.

“i had a marvelous time ruining everything.” 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle-born!Reader 

x. x. x.

Summary: A one-shot diving into Sirius’s complicated relationship with Grimmauld Place and where the Muggle-born he falls for fits in.

Genre/Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, alcohol, language, mentions of death & war 

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: so.. this is more of a character study on sirius & his dynamic with his family – i know this song is meant to be about a woman but it also screams sirius to me. i’m a sucker for romance so it’s a reader-insert. fun fact, i was almost done writing this when i realized i wanted it to be a wolfstar fic, but i was too lazy to change it, so just putting that out as a concept lol. let me know what you think & if you’d like me to tag you in future works!! 

masterlist

When Sirius first showed signs of his rebellious nature, Walburga wasn’t worried. After all, many children were incapable of sitting still in large gatherings, mouthing off to their parents, or incessantly teasing their younger siblings. “He will be kept in good company. He will learn,” Walburga would say to her husband. He often exasperated her, but there was no denying her immense pride. Despite his antics, even at a young age, Sirius displayed impressive magical ability and had a commanding presence – excellent qualities for the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. 

She worried only a little when he preferred to spend time with Andromeda, who was clearly becoming disillusioned with their family values, and Alphard, who Walburga believed was beginning to get a little too soft. Still, the Blacks were not raving lunatics. They were traditionalists, committed to upholding the high standards of Wizarding society. Sirius would not defy them, not when the weight of their bloodline rested on his shoulders, not when Regulus would never be able to stomach such responsibility.

On his first night at Hogwarts, Sirius didn't write home. It wasn’t until the morning after that Narcissa delivered the dreadful news to her mother. Walburga’s sister-in-law relished discussing this most recent embarrassment, as the family’s attention was now off her daughter’s courtship of a mudblood. Young Sirius, their direct heir, was sorted into the House of Muggle-lovers and blood traitors, into the House of Godric Gryffindor.

Blown apart by this development, Walburga turned to her younger son. She had no intention of repeating her mistakes and resolved to train him for the responsibility that should have belonged to her eldest. That way, if she was unable to correct Sirius’s behavior, she had back-up. Her legacy was secure. 

During every subsequent holiday, she noticed that the damage was getting more-and-more irreversible. Sirius unabashedly consorted with infamous blood traitors and pathetic half-bloods. He seemed to dread seeing his family as much as she dreaded seeing how much of him she had lost. She tried; no one could say she didn’t. But she was too stern with him. He had inherited his flexibility, or lack thereof, from her. She pushed him too far away. Soon, he stopped returning home for Christmas. When he was sixteen, she spat at him as he closed the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place one last time, without sparing her a final glance. 

He never expected he would have to return. Offering up the property to the Order seemed like a good idea at the time – he hardly put any thought into it. That was how he made most of his decisions. His track record certainly proved so. When Remus didn’t have anywhere to stay, and neither did the newly-reformed Order of the Phoenix, Sirius knew that his family estate in London was not just their most ideal option, but also the only one they had. 

He managed to enter undetected in his Animagus form with Remus. He had to hand it to fate – there were no extra security measures to keep him out. It was as if she anticipated his arrival. Swallowing, he absorbed his surroundings. Despite the eerie silence and decomposing furniture, it looked like an image straight from his memory. Sirius suddenly felt sixteen again. 

What he did not expect to see, however, was a currently-sleeping life-sized portrait of Walburga Black in the hallway. Though now in his human form, Sirius growled inadvertently. She knew. She always knew that he would come back. She wanted to be there when he did. Unbelievable, he thought to himself. 

Aware of Remus’s wary gaze on him, Sirius walked forward and began pulling on the frame. “Get off, you hag! Remus, help me get this off!” 

Remus went to join his old friend in what seemed like a fruitless mission in his mind but came to an abrupt halt when the portrait, disturbed by her son’s grunts, awoke in a flash of fury. “Filth! Scum! Abomination of my flesh! You are no son of mine,” portrait-Walburga hissed. 

“Shut up, just shut up!” He had not heard her voice since he was near a Dementor, reliving the worst of his teenage years. The visual made it much, much worse. 

“Permanent Sticking Charm, it seems…” Remus said to appease his friend, pulling the withering velvet curtains over its towering frame with all his strength.

“This is torture,” sighed Sirius. “Maybe we can find another place.” 

Remus refused to meet his eye. “For now, it is all we have, Sirius. If it was going to be a problem, you should not have offered it to Professor Dumbledore.” 

Sirius frowned. “It’s all I’m able to do this time around. It’s not like I can go around trailing Death Eaters and infiltrating the Ministry with everyone else.”

“Hopefully, it’s only temporary,” assured Remus, though he was equally as uncertain about Sirius’s fate as a fugitive. “Try not to let this place get into your head, okay?” 

Sirius Black was never good at keeping promises. He had three-and-a-half decades of evidence to back that up. In the weeks following, the Order settled in, consisting of many highly competent Aurors, half-a-dozen Weasleys, and an ex-Death Eater he could do without seeing. Sirius found himself never too far from alcohol, itching for more access. He longed to see Harry and to get away from his wretched house-elf, along with the constant, stinging reminder of his mother's existence. 

But there was something else inside of him, something he couldn’t describe. It was an emotion that was egging him on. He felt it inside of him every time Kreacher muttered complaints about wandering red-headed blood traitor brats. It swirled in his stomach when his mother shouted scathing insults at the clumsy half-blood and filthy half-breed that took temporary refuge in the former pure-blood paradise. 

Then she came. 

She was new. She worked at the Ministry; many of his houseguests were incredibly fond of her. He recognized the innocence in her eyes. It was the same innocence that he had when he first joined the Order seventeen years earlier. It was the same innocence that differentiated every new member from every returning one – they had yet to see tragedy in its fullest form. 

“Hello,” she greeted. She seemed strangely unperturbed by the fact that she was in the presence of an alleged mass murderer. “I’m (Y/N). I’ve been told this is your house. Thank you for playing host.”

“My pleasure,” responded Sirius. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand and kissed it. Suddenly, he became painfully aware of his hollowing cheeks, untamed hair, and liquor-infused breath.

She flushed slightly at the gesture. Black family habits die hard. Just because he chose to refrain from practicing them did not mean he had forgotten, nor did it mean that he wasn’t any good at them. 

Walburga Black’s portrait watched her son fall in love with her. Sirius watched her watch him. There was no telling how she would react. Regulus was dead – it was up to him to preserve their family’s name and purity.

(Y/N) was witty and flirty and incredibly intelligent. He found himself feeling a decade younger as he enjoyed their banter and her overall easiness. Before long, she kissed him in his dimly-lit pantry, and he was too selfish to stop her. They would kiss in every corner of the house, hardly caring that anyone was watching, ignoring the ghosts living within the walls. For Sirius, (Y/N) was his greatest act of defiance. She was born to non-magic parents. As narrated by a disgruntled Kreacher to his now-helpless mistress, she was nothing but a “filthy mudblood.” 

One night, weeks after the children departed for Hogwarts and the house was, as on most days, empty, he caught her staring at the Black family tapestry. Without making a sound, he inched behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hello, beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. “Sickle for your thoughts?” 

She leaned into him. As the days went on, she would tire easily. Still, she found happiness in Sirius as he did with her, and they both were old enough to know to reach for it in any capacity they got. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Let’s get to bed.” 

“As much as I’m a fan of that idea,” he started with a smirk, “you look upset. Is it work? Fudge?” 

“No, nothing like that.” Her fingers traced his blasted name on the wall. She looked thoughtful. “I’ve just… noticed something about you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“The way you look at your mother.” 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s no secret that I hate her. I hope that’s not off-putting. You’ve seen what she’s like – it was worse when she was alive. I promise I’m a gentleman in general circumstances… for the most part,” he added cheekily. 

She smiled tightly. “No, I get it. It must be terrible for you, being back here.” 

“It is,” he affirmed. “I’ve got you, though. You make me happier than anything, love.” 

“That’s the thing,” she uttered as if it pained her. Sirius could stare at her fiery expression for days on end. To be on the receiving end was strange. “I can’t help but think that you’re only in love with me to spite her. Like your feelings aren’t love, they’re just a culmination of your hatred for her.” 

It took Sirius an eternity to process what she just said. Realizing that he was not going to say anything, she continued. “Believe me, I know you hate it here. But at the same time, you look so… satisfied. You’re hosting a bunch of blood traitors, half-bloods, and a werewolf in this place that was once the pinnacle of blood purity. You’re providing a haven against the bloody Dark Lord. And worst of all, you’re with a mudblood.” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” interrupted Sirius harshly. 

“It’s the truth. If you weren’t in this position, would we even be together?” 

“Of course,” said Sirius. To answer this question, he didn’t even have to think. “I love you because you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and make me laugh until my stomach hurts. You’re so good with Harry and you can put anyone in their place. You make me feel new again… God, that’s fucking sappy, but it’s true. I indeed hate this place and I hate her but… but if I let her dictate my choices, even when she’s bloody dead, then she’s won. I don’t want her to win. If I was only with you for your blood status, then I would be no different from my mother.” 

She stared up at him, her eyes betraying a wave of emotions. She reached up to kiss him, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Thank you for saying all of that. Just hold on for a little while, alright? Soon, we’ll be out of here. We can have our own house – you, me, and Harry.” 

He smiled at her sadly. It seemed too unreachable of a goal to him at the moment. “By the beach?” “Wherever you’d like,” she answered, leading him to his bedroom, his only sanctuary in the horrible house. 

As they made their way towards the stairs, Sirius glanced at the tapestry over his shoulder, at the seven generations of Blacks behind him. He gently squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. For the first time in his entire life, he felt the weight of carrying his name lift off him. He’d done his part to corrupt his bloodline. It was time for Sirius to focus on himself in a way that the shadows of his past never allowed him to, even in his schoolboy days with James. Being a Black was a part of who he was, and even a disowned Black deserved his long-overdue happiness.

Tagging: @strawberriesonsummer​

[heliads]

One Moves On Chapter Four: Crow Rock

Stiles Stilinski doesn’t know what to think when he’s taken by the Ghost Riders. He’s grateful to be joined by Y/N L/N, although when he finally escapes, no one seems to remember her at all.

previous / series masterlist / next

Now that he’s finished his research, Stiles isn’t sure what to do next. Does he drive over in a fit of glory and bad decision making, hope to find Y/N and pray she hasn’t left before he gets there? Does he risk traveling without a pack to one of the areas with the most supernatural activity other than Beacon Hills? 

In the end, Stiles decides to just go. Deliberating and hesitating won’t do him any good, not when Y/N is still out there, weaponless and with no idea where she is. Stiles spends a haphazard half hour running about his house, trying to put together supplies he might need for the trip, before finally stumbling over to his Jeep.

When he finally makes it out, keys clutched in his hand, Scott is waiting for him.

His best friend is leaning up against the driver’s side door, arms folded across his chest. Stiles’ steps falter. “You knew I was going?” Scott lifts a shoulder. “Your dad called me, said he was worried. We knew you’ve been concerned about Y/N, but we didn’t know that you would go this far. Where are you going, Stiles?”

Stiles holds up a hastily printed map. “Actually, I’m going to a town called Crow Rock. Good supernatural activity, and I followed the law of triangles-” Stiles’ voice dies off as he takes in the look on Scott’s face. “The law of triangles, which is a very reputable law from a very reputable manuscript which we all know about. Right. Well, I know how it sounds but trust me, it’s going to be alright.”

Scott sighs. “I want to believe you. Honestly, I do. But Y/N died months ago. You have to know that. I didn’t even know you cared this much about her. I’d call it grief, but you watched her die some time ago. She’s already buried.” Stiles frowns at him. “Is she? Where?” Scott fumbles for a moment. “Uh, in some cemetery.” Stiles presses his advantage. “Which cemetery? If we saw her buried, where is she?”

Scott’s brow furrows, and he stares at Stiles in bewilderment. “I can’t remember. I know where Allison and Aiden and all the others are buried, but I don’t know where she is.” Stiles throws his hands in the air. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t know because she isn’t dead. We never buried her so of course we can’t remember the cemetery. Scott, you have to believe me. She’s out there somewhere and I have to bring her back.”

Scott’s face softens. “You’re sure this will work? You know where to find her?” Stiles nods fervently. “I’ve done my research. Sometimes, people are pulled away from rifts by something called etheria. I was able to make it back safely from the Wild Hunt, but she wouldn’t. She’s not the first either- these victims, they call them etherials or something, have been disappearing for centuries. I’ve managed to track down another hotspot where she might be located and I think it’s my best shot at finding her.”

Scott nods once, then claps him on the shoulder. “I think you can do it.” Stiles looks up at him. “Really?” Scott smiles trustingly. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve put in a considerable amount of time for research. I think if anyone could track down an etherial who everyone else thinks is dead, it would be you.” Stiles grins. For some reason, hearing his best friend’s belief in him is enough to give Stiles a boost in confidence.

Scott steps away from the door of the Jeep, allowing Stiles access at last. “I just wanted to check with you before you go. To make sure you knew what you were doing.” He glances at the map, taking in the location of the hotspot. “There’s going to be a lot of supernatural trouble there. You sure you don’t want a backup group?” Stiles shakes his head, smiling. “I’m good, thank you. I think this is something I have to do by myself.”

Stiles climbs into the Jeep, giving himself a moment to think. This is it, the last moment before he sets off on his journey. He’s spent so much time preparing that it’s strange to think that this is his stepping off point, the last opportunity he has to back down and say that this is too dangerous, or that the chances are too great that he will fail.

Stiles turns on the ignition in a roar. Scott waves goodbye as the Jeep disappears down the road.

Stiles has only been driving for an hour or so before he notices a shift in the air. It’s not much, barely there, but yet something is not right. It’s like the atmosphere of the car has become quieter, even more silent than before. No one has entered or left the vehicle to warrant this silence, but it’s still enough to make Stiles feel slightly uneasy. He’d felt it a little when he was crossing over the boundary to Beacon Hills, a slight change in the energy as if by leaving he was passing through a barrier of some sort.

Stiles supposes it makes sense- you leave a hotspot, you might notice some change. Stiles doubts he would have noticed it had he not just been taken by the Wild Hunt or even gone without his temporary possession by the Nogitsune. He has a feeling that sensing this change in supernatural activity is an ability usually attributed to the supernatural, and the fact that he, a supposedly ordinary human, can sense it sets Stiles’ teeth on edge.

Stiles becomes aware of another change about fifteen minutes later. He sits up straighter in his seat, trying and failing to figure out what exactly is filling him with unease, and then he sees the sign. It’s faded, paint crumbling off of a metal backing. Even with the weathering of the sign, Stiles can still read the derelict letters: Welcome to Crow Rock. Stiles has made it at last.

The Jeep rumbles on, past the sign and onto the twisting roads. Scott, Lydia, and Malia had told him about visiting Canaan while he was still in the thrall of the Wild Hunt, and how the entire town had given off the uncanny, almost sinister energy of a ghost town. Stiles has no idea what it must have been like to walk those streets, but he has a suspicion that it would be pretty similar to how he feels right now, driving down the blocks and avenues in his truck.

Stiles has looked at images of Crow Rock from larger topographical maps, and realized that the town itself isn’t actually that big. He’d been happy then, thinking that maybe this was one instance of luck for himself and that it might not take as long to search the town for Y/N, but that hope is starting to wither away from him now. The town may be small, yes, with fewer hiding spots, but it also means fewer people to watch him. With fewer bystanders, the chance of supernaturals backing down from a public attack grows slimmer and slimmer with each mile Stiles travels within the town.

Stiles intended to drive to the center of town, where the hotspot of supernatural activity would most likely be the highest. However, as he goes he finds that certain roads are blocked off or congested with traffic that miraculously vanishes a few blocks down. He’s forced to take alternate routes, driving him on a convoluted path away from the entrance. It gives Stiles a sneaking suspicion that he’s being intentionally misrouted, that something is drawing him close.

Stiles has just taken a turn into a new street when he’s forced to come to an abrupt stop. A construction barricade has been laid across the road, orange and white paint signaling that he can travel no further. Stiles checks his rearview mirrors, ready to make a U-turn and get onto another road, when he freezes in place. A group of people is slowly spilling out into the road behind him, and they come to a stop at the main road, blocking off any chance of escape. They all consider Stiles with identical glares. This is not good.

Seeing as he can’t drive anywhere without mowing down this group of people, Stiles turns off the ignition and starts to climb down out of the Jeep. All of his instincts are screaming at him to stay in the car, to not give up the one piece of shelter he still has left, but it’s not like he has much of a choice. At least he’d be able to run on foot- if he remains in the Jeep, he’d just be a sitting duck.

Stiles walks away from the car, coming to a stop a few yards away from the group. One man steps forward, glaring at Stiles with an almost animal rage. “You should not have come here, human. You reek of enemy packs.” Most people would be smart and hold their tongues, choosing to live instead of delivering a supposedly witty retort. Stiles prefers to save his academic success for the tests in school.

“I think it’s kind of mean to go up to people and tell them they smell. I mean, I showered this morning, I can’t be that bad.” The man raises an eyebrow. “You are a human with a death wish, I see. It is not wise to pick a fight that you cannot win.” Stiles shrugs. “I’m just a tourist, man. I can see why your driving tours got such low reviews on Yelp.”

The man scoffs, the sound skidding deep in his throat like the roar of an engine. “I am quickly tiring of you. I will give you one minute to leave this town. If you are not gone by then, you will be dead.” Stiles shakes his head slowly. “I can’t do that. I’m here for someone.” The man roars at him, the sound echoing off of the buildings around them to culminate in a low din of noise. “Then you will die here instead.”

The man charges towards Stiles, claws already starting to extend from his fingers. Stiles takes one look at him and decides to do what he does best: run. He spins on his heels, dashing towards his Jeep with every ounce of energy still left in him. He’s almost there, one hand flung out towards the door, when a werewolf skids to a stop in front of him. It lets out a piercing howl, the sound of an animal about to attack.

Suddenly, a knife slams into its throat, and the wolf slumps sideways. Stiles’ head jerks up as he looks for his savior. A blur of flashing knives and running limbs appears out of nowhere, and a figure grabs the knife from the werewolf’s throat to throw it at another approaching wolf. Then the figure turns to Stiles, and he feels like he could dance with joy.

“Y/N?” She flashes him a grin. “Great to see you. Get in the Jeep.” Stiles doesn’t think twice, diving for the door and throwing himself in. Y/N climbs into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed just before a werewolf can slash her to ribbons. Stiles turns on the ignition, thanking everything holy and then some that the engine doesn’t fail him. He begins the turn to direct his car back towards the road, and then hesitates.

Y/N stares at him. “What are you waiting for? Do you enjoy being killed by enemy packs?” Stiles gestures towards the road. “The werewolves are blocking all the lanes!” Y/N’s eyes widen in something like incredulity. “Then run them over!” Stiles returns her startled gaze. “They’ll wreck my car!” Y/N grabs his hand, forcing it back onto the wheel. “If you stay here, they’ll wreck your car by dragging your dead body out of it and tearing it to shreds. Drive!”

A wolf howls nearby, raising his hand to slash at the metal body of the car. This is enough to motivate him, and Stiles slams a foot on the gas. The Jeep lurches forward, and the werewolves are forced to dive out of the way lest they get flattened by the wheels. The Jeep races around corners and through straightaways before they finally lose the enemy pack and the roads become deserted once more.

Stiles stares at the windshield unseeingly. His hands still shake from the close call. “You know, I don’t think I used my turn signal once during all of this.” There’s a quiet sound next to him, and for a second Stiles thinks that Y/N has started sobbing. Then he looks over and realizes that she’s doubled over in silent laughter. She manages to choke out two words. “Turn signal?”

Stiles stares at her for a second, then starts laughing too. Maybe it’s the thrill of yet another near death experience, or the rush of gratitude that he’s managed to find her at last, but all of a sudden every single thing in the world seems funny. He has to divert his attention back to the road in a jolt lest he run over a suicidal squirrel, which just makes them laugh even harder.

At last, they approach the sign announcing that they will shortly be leaving Crow Rock. Y/N’s laughter dies on her lips as she stares at the sign, then speaks abruptly. “Stop the car.” Stiles stares at her as she jumps out before the wheels have even stopped moving. He puts the car in park just a little bit beyond the sign, then leaps out after her. “What are you doing? Do you like the idea of being slashed to bits by the enemy packs?”

Y/N shakes her head, staring at him with quiet grief. “I can’t leave the town.” Stiles walks back over to her. “What are you talking about?” Y/N looks at him, and Stiles realizes that she doesn’t look afraid or even disappointed. Her face only holds a calm acceptance of a depressing fact. “I can’t leave. I’ve tried before, but the town won’t let me. Look.” She moves to step forward, past the ‘Leaving Crow Rock’ sign, but her feet refuse to budge. It’s as if she’s trying to walk into an invisible wall.

“I’ve tried to leave, ever since I showed up here, but I can’t. It’s like the same magic that brought me here intends on trapping me here forever.” Stiles’ eyes widen. “It’s the etheria. All those manuscripts talked about how people would be yanked away to other hotspots and never return. I thought they just meant that it was the olden days or whatever and that long of a distance was too far to travel without cars or something, but they literally meant that they couldn’t leave.”

Stiles shakes his head, unable to accept this. “I’m not giving up, not now. I’m not losing you again.” Y/N laughs quietly at that. The sound is bittersweet and tears at his heart. “I don’t think you have a choice, Stiles. There’s no way around this.” Stiles’ pulse is thundering in his veins. “No, I’m going to make a choice. Even if I have to do it all myself. No one is supposed to remember the etherials, but I remember you. We’re the exception, Y/N. I am not leaving you again.”

Out of some impulse, Stiles steps forward, wrapping his arms around Y/N and pulling her close. She stiffens for a second, then returns his embrace. After so many days of hearing everyone tell him that she was dead, that she didn’t exist, having her so close is like a dream or an impossibility. They stumble slightly as a strong wind hits them, shifting slightly but not letting go. Y/N gasps quietly, the sound torn away from her chest. Stiles looks at her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “I don’t know. I feel like-” Her eyes widen as she stares at the sign to Crow Rock, the sign that is now behind them. In that brief moment, when they’d moved to avoid the wind, they’d moved over the town barrier. It had just been mere inches, but it was enough. Y/N stares at him in awe. “How did that happen? It’s never happened before.”

Stiles can just smile at her, feeling relief crest over him like a wave. “I told you, didn’t I? We’re the exception. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like to go home.” She beams at him. “I think I’d like that a lot.” Stiles reaches out, wrapping his hand around hers to guide her back to the car. They’re together at last, and they can finally make their way back to where they belong.

one moves on tag list: @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​, @blahhhhhhhaaa​

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word count: 6219

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

A/N: I started this series a long time ago and just barely had the motivation to start it up again. I really love this series, and have been enjoying writing it. Let me know if you want a tag!

My Masterlist

Branch Out Masterlist

Thank heavens for GPS, there’s no way you would have found this place without step-by-step directions. A narrow gravel driveway branched off from the worn mountain road and wound to a homely cabin. You stepped out of your old pickup truck and pulled out the key the realtor had given to you. Buying a house sight unseen wasn’t the smartest idea and you second guessed your impulse decision as you took in the dense woods that were so foreign to you. The seasoned wooden boards of the porch creaked under your feet while you made your way to the door and let yourself into your new home. Dust rested gently on every ledge and the frigid January air was lined with a twinge of must from sitting unoccupied for so long, but something felt so promising about the sturdy structure.

A modest kitchen and living room made up most of the house with a bedroom and bathroom on either side of a small hallway. A small, metal woodburning fireplace sat just next to the backdoor and you had a feeling you would end up putting that to good use if you ever figured out how to use it.

Your hand was subconsciously touching the bruise that was prominent on your forearm and when you realized, you pulled your sleeve down to cover it. The decision to leave your family and friends behind was a heart-wrenching one, but you knew you had to make a change if you wanted to heal completely. You needed to do something for yourself, and you wanted a fresh start. A small cabin in the freezing cold woods of Idaho was about as far from what you knew to be normal as you could have gotten, but a seed of hope was planted firmly in your chest.

When a job posting for the assistant city accountant had fallen in your lap a few weeks back, you applied without thinking twice. A few online interviews later, you had secured the job and things fell into place effortlessly, as if some external force was paving your path to this small town. You bought this quaint home with the help of a local realtor, packed your things, and left the only home you had ever known in Arizona, despite the protests of your family. Not knowing what your future held was scary, but something about this place felt right from the moment you pulled in.

You had brought only what you needed to in hopes of making a quick escape, meaning you had only a mattress, some clothes and a few personal belongings. After working for a few years, you had a built up a good savings account and figured it would be easier to buy furniture once you got here instead of trying to move big pieces by yourself. It didn’t take long to move your things inside, and you felt grateful that you called ahead to have the power and water turned on so you could shower once you had unpacked what you needed for your first day on the job tomorrow. Anxiety sat like a rock in your stomach, so you skipped dinner and went straight to bed, burying yourself under a mountain of blankets to shield you from the winter chill that had settled in your bones.

Your nerves woke you up well before your alarm went off, so you dragged your feet across the frozen floor and pulled your clothes on quickly before digging through your boxes for some granola bars for breakfast. You leaned against the kitchen counter and began to make a list of things you would need to buy since you were essentially starting from scratch. Double checking the email that you had received with instructions for your first day, you took a deep breath and headed out.

City hall was a historic, two-story red brick building that was shared with the fire department. It looked like something out of a storybook, but then again, this whole town did. You pushed the door open and looked around at the empty lobby, checking your watch to make sure you weren’t crazy early. Rustic chairs lined the walls by the door, and a few empty desks were placed behind the tall front counter.

“Hello?” You asked, turning your head left and right to look for any signs of life.

“Oh!” A muffled voice responded, and distant footsteps quickly scuttled your way from the back room. “You’re here!” A pretty, dark haired girl gave a few excited claps as she made her way to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Sarah. Sarah Blake.” She eagerly pulled you into a hug which caught you by surprise and she chuckled a bit to herself before taking a step back. “Sorry, my boyfriend says that my enthusiasm scares new people away. I’ve just been so excited since I heard they hired you. I’ve been praying for someone my age to come work around here for a long time.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the first person I’ve met in town so it’s nice to see a friendly face.” Her warm welcome calmed some of your nerves.

“That’s right, you just moved in yesterday, huh?” You tiled your head in question, wondering how she knew that. “It’s a really small town, everyone knows everything, especially when it comes to new people. You’ve been the talk of the town the past little bit.” She shrugged. “Well, I’m the marketing/PR girl here, and we all just kind of pitch in with working the front desk. Come on back, let me give you the grand tour.”

Sarah led you around the corner and stopped at the first office on your left. “This is Ellen Singer’s office. You’ll be working under her, she’s the lead accountant.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Hmm, she should be here by now. I bet her car is giving her trouble.”

A friendly voice called out to Sarah from down the hall and she motioned for you to follow her as she stepped just inside the end office which was significantly bigger than the rest.

“Y/N, this is Garth Fitzgerald, he’s the mayor. Garth, this is Y/N.” Sarah introduced you and he stood to shake your hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Mayor Fitzgerald.”

“Please, call me Garth.” You smiled and nodded. “We’ve been excited about you around here. I think you’ll make a great addition to our community.” His phone ringing broke the conversation. “Excuse me, ladies. Oh, and welcome to Wallace, Y/N!”

“Next up is Arthur Ketch, he’s the city planner. Sometimes he can be a little abrupt, but deep down he’s a big softie. Don’t let him scare you.”

He was on the phone, so he simply waved to you two as you passed. Sarah’s attention was drawn back down the hall when two police officers walked in. “Jody, Donna!” She hollered to them.

“Heya, kiddo! Who you got with you?” The blonde officer sent a warm smile your way.

“You must be Y/N!” The other responded.

“Oh, that’s right! I heard you were coming to town. I’m Donna and this is Sheriff Jody Mills. It’s so great to meet you.” She pulled you in for your second hug of the day.

“Everyone here is seriously so nice. I don’t know why I didn’t move here years ago!” You joked.

“Well listen, if you need anything, you can always come to me, okay?” Jody put her hand on your shoulder. “We’re all so excited to have a new face around.”

“Thank you. You’re all making this transition so much easier than I thought it would be.”

Sarah waved to the officers as they left and pulled gently on your arm. “Come on, let’s chat while we wait for Ellen.” She took a seat at one of the desks in the front and you sat across from her.

“Thanks for showing me around, it’s nice to know that I have a friend at work already.” Sarah’s eyes lit up when you called her your friend.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been dying for you to get here. I knew we’d get along.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair proudly. “So, where did you move from?”

“Phoenix, Arizona.”

“And you moved to Idaho in the middle of January? Are you crazy? I would give anything to go lay out in the sun for an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I might be!” You laughed. “I guess I just needed a change, you know? It was just time to move onto the next chapter of my life.”

“I get that. I grew up here and couldn’t wait to leave for college, but as soon as I was gone, I missed this place.”

“I can see what you’re talking about. It has a good feeling to it here.”

“So, now to the juicy stuff.” Sarah leaned forward. “Are you dating anyone? Because there’s a whole pool of eligible bachelors I could set you up with here.”

“No, actually I just got out of something kind of messy, so I don’t think I’m really looking for anything at the moment.”

A sympathetic look was sent you way. “I’m sorry to hear that. But if you ever feel ready, you let me know, okay?”

“You will be the first. What about you? I heard you mention you have a boyfriend. Tell me all about him.”

A smile spread across Sarah’s face and she pulled out her phone to show you a picture. “This is Sam, we’ve been together since high school.”

She handed you her phone and you looked at the tall, handsome guy whose arms were wrapped around her. “He’s cute, nice work!” She beamed as you handed her phone back. The expression on her face was clearly one of adoration as she looked at the picture.

“We actually broke up before we went to college. He went to Stanford and I went to the University of Oregon and we figured it would be easier to break it off on good terms rather than fade away in a long-distance relationship. That lasted about two weeks and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Do you think you’ll marry him? You guys are so stinking cute together.” You weren’t sure if you had ever seen a better fitting couple.

“I overheard Sam talking to his older brother about buying a ring. I don’t think he knew that I was just in the other room, but I’ll let him try to surprise me.” Sarah giggled. Your conversation was interrupted by someone walking in the back door.

“Hey, Ellen.” Sarah greeted. “Your reinforcement has arrived.”

Ellen looked at you with relief in her eyes. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Come on back here and we’ll get started.”

“Have fun!” Sarah left you to meet your new boss as she went up to help someone at the front desk.

“Y/N, you’ll have to forgive me for being so late. My stupid car has been giving me hell the past few weeks. You’d think with my husband owning the only mechanic’s shop in town, I’d have a reliable vehicle, but here we are.”

“No worries. It gave me a chance to meet some people around the building. I’m excited to get started though.” You sat in the chair across from her desk and she plopped down with a sigh as well.

“I’ve been begging Garth for two years for some help, so you are a light at the end of my tunnel. I’m hoping to retire in a few years and hand you the reigns, so let’s get to it, shall we?”

The next few hours were spent introducing you to all of the systems and procedures. After receiving a call from her daughter, Ellen decided to call it a day just after three in the afternoon and the two of you agreed to hit it hard tomorrow. You gathered your things and returned to the front area where Sarah was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when you entered the room.

“Hey! How are things going?”

“Ellen has to take off, so we’re going to call it a day and just work a little longer tomorrow.” You sat at the desk adjoining Sarah’s and set your things down.

“Take any desk. It’s just you and me out here. Charlie is the county IT girl and works out here sometimes, but she hops from building to building.”

“Well, I suppose this one is as good as any.” You unpacked a picture frame and a few supplies at the desk across from Sarah’s. “Hey, are there any places to buy furniture around here? I only moved with the bare essentials so I’m in desperate need of a few things.”

“So, what you’re saying is you need to go on a shopping spree? I’m in! I’ll drive.” Sarah grabbed her purse and coat and led you out the door.

She took you on a short tour of the staples around town before arriving at the only big box store nearby. You browsed up and down the aisles, pulling all the necessities off the shelf and tossing them in the cart. You’d have to order some of the bigger furniture pieces online since it was a small place, and they didn’t have anything like here.

Sarah had a basket and was creating a good-sized stockpile of her own. “Sam has been trying to put me on a budget for a while now, so I’ll have to hide this stuff before he sees.” A guilty smile pulled on the corners of her mouth.

“Just tell him you were shopping with an accountant and I approved all your purchases.”

“Hah! We’re going to be good friends.” She picked up a candle, smelled it, and placed it in her basket.

“Where does Sam work?” You asked as you looked through the bathroom towels.

“He’s the lawyer for Winchester Lumber, the sawmill in town. A lot of people work there actually, it’s kind of the main business that brings people in. Sam’s great grandpa started it and it’s stayed in the family. Sam’s older brother, Dean, runs the place right now, but I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hand the throne over to their Dad when he gets back. He got cancer a few years ago and they moved to Kansas to be closer to medical treatment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How is he doing?”

“He’s doing really well, actually. He’s in remission and they’re hoping to move back soon.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent checking things off of your to-do list and grabbing dinner with Sarah. She dropped you off back at your truck and you thanked her for showing you around before you went your separate ways.

Back at home, it took you a few trips to unload your haul, but you were just happy to have a few more things to fill your empty home. Your first day had gone better than you could have imagined, and you were filled with confidence in your decision to uproot your life.

Sarah opened her front door and did her best to sneak her shopping bags past Sam and Dean who were sitting in the living room, sharing a pizza and some beers. She successfully stowed her treasures away in the hall closet and joined the boys.

“Hey hon!” She placed a kiss on Sam’s forehead before grabbing a slice of pizza and plopping down on the couch next to him.

“You’re in a good mood.” Sam noticed his girlfriend’s chipper energy.

“I made a new friend today.” She took a big bite and gave a smile.

“Don’t you already know everyone in town?” Dean’s voice sounded as pessimistic as usual.

“No, actually. There’s a new accountant at city hall, Y/N. She just moved in yesterday.”

“That’s great! You’ll have to invite her over sometime.” Sam placed his hand lovingly on Sarah’s knee. “Where’s she living?”

“She bought a cabin up in the mountains sight unseen, so we went shopping for some essentials. I think she might be kind of close to you, Dean.”

Dean frowned, trying to think of which cabin the new girl would have bought. He moved up there to be alone, so the thought of a neighbor was disheartening. “You mean that old shack just off of Placer Creek Road?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

“She’s got a lot of repair work to do on that place.” Dean shook his head, glad that it wasn’t him that put any kind of investment into what he was sure was a money pit.

You awoke early the next morning to find that it had snowed overnight. Growing up in Arizona, you had never really experienced snow like this before. Every breath you took felt like your lungs were filling with ice and you couldn’t help but cough, willing the warm weather to find you soon. Winter was one thing you didn’t think about when moving to a mountain town, so you wanted to give yourself plenty of time for the commute. After packing a few things for lunch, you stepped outside to find your truck buried in a mountain of frozen powder.

“Ugh!” You groaned and threw your head back, looking around for a stick to help you dig out your vehicle. You made a mental note to buy a scraper after work. Ten minutes and one soaked pair of shoes later, you had finally freed your car. You twisted the key, forcing the engine to sluggishly turned over, then blasted the heat on high while you ran inside to change into dry shoes and socks before taking off down the road.

The feeling of your back wheels slipping around on the frozen dirt road was so foreign to you, and you weren’t a fan. About two miles away from the main road, your engine began to sputter as it struggled to trudge ahead through the wet snow.

“Please don’t do this to me…” You steered towards the side of the road as much as you could while the truck wound down to a full stop. An annoyed sigh escaped from your lips. “Great.” You turned the car off and then back on, willing it to start up again, but the clicks of defeat that sounded from under the hood dashed your hopes.

You hadn’t had the time to buy a heavy winter coat yet, so you zipped up the light jacket that you had on and began walking. You didn’t want to make a bad impression on your second day of work by calling in sick, so you picked up your head and kept going. One of the points of starting your new journey was to be more self-reliant, and this definitely fell under that category. Ten minutes had passed, and your toes were so cold that you were sure they would snap off and rattle around in your shoes at any point now. The sound of an engine coming down the hill made you look over your shoulder to see a snowmobile barreling around the corner and straight towards you. You quickly side-stepped out of the way, but not enough to avoid the kickback of snow that was thrown into your face as the machine drove past.

“Seriously?!” You yelled as you shook the snow from your clothes. The snowmobile stopped and slowly backed up to meet you.

“What are you doing up here?” The man abruptly asked as he pulled off his helmet. If you weren’t so annoyed and cold, you might have thought he was attractive.

“Being buried alive by some maniac speeding down the mountain.” You retorted and brushed the snow from your hair with your fingers.

“I’m going to assume that’s your truck back there?”

“Lucky guess.” The wind-chill blew through your jacket and you crossed your arms. “I don’t think it likes the cold, and I don’t exactly blame it.”

His eyes assessed you. “Crappy shoes, thin jacket, and no gloves. I’m going to assume that makes you the clueless new girl.”

“What an ass...” You thought to yourself.

“I guess it does, Kowalski.”

“Kowalski? Really?”

You were surprised he got your reference to Clint Eastwood’s infamously crotchety main character.

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to work.” You didn’t find much point in continuing on this conversation with such a smug jerk, so you continued on your path down the road and heard the snowmobile make a sharp u turn to climb back up the trail.

Ten more minutes later, you could see the main road just ahead of you had been plowed, and you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to be hiking through any more ankle-deep build-up. You could hear a vehicle slowly coming up behind you and you made sure to move as far over as you could to avoid being blasted with snow again. The truck slowed to a stop next to you and you looked over to see the same man from earlier rolling the passenger side window down.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” His voice still sported an undertone of condescension and he rolled his eyes when a doubtful frown from you was sent towards him. “Just get in.”

Hundreds of episodes of Dateline should have taught you to not get in a car with some stranger, but you figured that even if he didn’t murder you, you’d end up dying of frostbite and decided to you’d rather die inside a warm truck. You opened the door and took off your damp jacket before getting inside.

The man’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. You placed your hand by the heater on the dashboard in hopes of defrosting your fingers enough to feel them again.

“You shouldn’t drive a pickup in the winter.” His gaze stayed firmly glued on the road ahead.

“Uhm…” You dramatically looked around, “aren’t we in a pickup right now?”

“Yeah, a pickup with chains on the tires and a weighed down bed.”

“Well, I’m still pretty new at this whole snow thing…”

The man glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “I couldn’t tell. You’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“Should I be concerned that you know my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” he must have realized how creepy that came off, “I know Sarah. She’s dating my younger brother and she was telling us about you last night.”

“Oh, it all makes sense now. You’re the grumpy older brother. Dean, right?”

Another eyeroll made an appearance, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make any further comments.

“Well, I appreciate the ride. I’m sorry if I screwed up your morning routine.”

“It’s no big deal.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Dean wasn’t a man of many words, and you were okay with that. You weren’t really one for small talk either. Dean’s eyes moved to your arm that was extended towards the vent blowing heat.

“That’s a gnarly bruise. How’d you manage that?”

You pulled your arm back quickly, hoping that your sudden move didn’t come across as suspicious. “Oh, you know, just being a clutz. They never tell you that moving by yourself is a dangerous game.” You chuckled casually while watching his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he glanced at the bruise one more time. No further remarks were made so you assumed he bought your story.

Dean pulled up in front of City Hall and stopped as close to the door as he could get. Before you could reach for the door handle, Dean instructed, “give me your keys.”

“What?” Your face twisted in confusion.

Yet another fed-up sigh escaped from his chest. “Bobby Singer down at the auto shop owes me a favor. I’ll get him to tow your truck down and take a look at it.”

“Oh.” you weren’t expecting such a generous gesture from such a grumpy guy. “I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Hand it over.” The tone in his voice remained gruff, but the bluntness was slightly faded at this point. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your key ring, sliding the truck key off and placing it into Dean’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean’s eyes avoided yours and you took the hint that it was time to leave.

The wind blew flurries in the air, forcing you to quickly sprint to the door, meaning that you missed Dean watching you with curiosity. Sarah, who was observing from the front desk, didn’t miss his wondering stare. He quickly averted his eyes when he saw her spying and peeled away.

“Kowalski.” He muttered to himself with a half-entertained chuckle once he was a few blocks away. Dean would have never admitted it, but he quite enjoyed the witty nickname.

Sarah couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk that crept up on her face and leaned on the counter to greet you the second you stepped through the door.

“You look like you’ve had quite the morning.” She greeted.

“Yeah, something like that.” You hung your jacket up on the coat rack in the corner to dry and stomped the packed snow from the tread of your shoes.

“Am I going blind or did Dean Winchester give you a ride to work?” She quickly cornered you.

“Yeah. My truck broke down and then he tried to bury me in snow, so he gave me a ride.” Goosebumps covered your arms as you made your way to your desk. You had never been more grateful for heat.

Sarah crossed her arms and sat on your desk as you took your seat. “You know, people call him the Grinch because he moved way up the mountain to be all broody and alone.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand it. It’s kinda fitting.” You logged into your computer, but Sarah continued to press for details.

“Well did he say anything on the ride over or did he just glare at the road?”

“A little bit of both I guess. He told me I shouldn’t be driving a truck in the winter, but that’s about it.”

Ellen arrived and cut the chatter short. “Hey girls. You ready to get started, Y/N?”

“You bet.” You stood from your desk, but not before Sarah pointed an accusing finger at you.

“This conversation is not over!” She warned.

After lunch, Ellen had given you some expense reports to review and organize. It was tedious, but you didn’t mind the slow afternoon after a crazy morning. Sarah was helping you to punch holes in the stacks of papers and organize them into departments while the two of you chatted away. The snow had kept most people inside, so it was a slow day at the front desk. Just before it was time to call it a day, the bell of the front door dinged, and Sarah walked over to see who it was.

“Hey, Dean. You going over to Benny’s tonight?” She greeted.

“Not sure yet.”

Dean’s hands were shoved into his front pockets as he stared Sarah down, not wanting to give her any more room to speculate as to why he was here.

“Hi.” You smiled softly, trying your hardest ignore Sarah’s curious stare as you joined in the conversation.

He pulled a key from his pocket and set it down on the counter. “She’s all fixed up. Battery terminals were corroded so I cleaned them up a bit, but you’re going to need a new battery soon. That one doesn’t have much juice left in it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you worked at the auto shop.” You remembered Sarah saying something about Dean working at the sawmill.

“No, I used to. But I figured it would be an easy fix, so I took a look myself. I stuck some old grates in the bed for some weight. Take it into Bobby’s tomorrow after work and he’ll take care of the rest. He knows you’re coming.”

“Wow, I really owe you one. Thank you.” You slid the key from off the counter and fiddled with the metal ring.

“Don’t read into it.” Dean tapped his fist on the counter twice before swiftly leaving.

Sarah was biting her lip, and you slowly turned your head towards her. “Spit it out.” You gave permission for her onslaught of questions.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to fix your car for you!”

“He said he would have Bobby tow it back to the shop and take a look at it. I didn’t know he was going to fix it himself.”

“I’ve known Dean for a long time, he’s pretty much my older brother at this point, so I can see past all the grumpiness. He’s a really good guy, he’s just been dealt a hard hand the past few years that made him swear off people.”

That was a feeling you could easily relate to. “He really went out of his way to bail me out today, so he can’t be all that bad.”

“He’s all bark and no bite. Granted, it’s a big bark.” Sarah checked her watch. “Closing time! Hey, would you want to come back to my place after we clock out? Sam’s playing poker at a buddy’s house tonight so I figured maybe we could grab some take out and find some furniture for you online?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually! It definitely beats the PB and J I would be making otherwise.”

After work, you ran home to change and Sarah stopped for some Chinese food, then the two of you met at her apartment.

Some crappy TV movie played in the background while mostly empty take-out containers littered the kitchen counter. You were sitting on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table, browsing through loveseats while Sarah lay on the couch behind you giving her input.

The door gently swung open and the man you assumed to be Sam walked through. Sarah stood up and stretched before giving her boyfriend a hug.

“How was the poker game?”

Sam tossed his keys on the counter and pulled off his jacket. “About the same as always. Benny won most of the games, Cas still has no clue what he’s doing, and I lost a little too much pride.”

“You’ll get them one of these days. Come on,” she tugged on his shirt sleeve, “I want you to meet Y/N.”

You stood when Sam and Sarah walked into the room. “Y/N, this is Sam.”

“Ah, the infamous Y/N, I’ve heard lots about you the past day or so. It’s nice to put a face with the name.” He shook your hand. “How are you settling in?”

“Honestly, the move has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. Everyone here has been super welcoming and helpful.”

“Including Dean.” Sarah gave a knowing look to her boyfriend, who was clearly confused.

“My brother, Dean?”

“The one and only. He gave Y/N a ride to work and fixed her truck up for her.”

Sam’s face read skeptical. “My brother, Dean?” He repeated.

“I found myself knee deep in snow and car problems this morning. I’m sure he helped me out of pity more than anything.” You tried to explain, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow. I guess that’s why he was late to work today. Well, I hope he didn’t scare you off too much.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not at all, he really helped me out. But I have to admit, I feel bad. He would barely acknowledge my thank yous. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he heard you loud and clear, he’s just hasn’t been properly socialized yet.”

Sam finished off the rest of the Chinese and got to know you a little better while Sarah sat next to you on the floor, scrolling through furniture.

“Where’d you go to school, Y/N?” Sam stacked the empty red food containers together and set them aside as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

“University of Arizona. I didn’t originally plan on staying so close to home, but a full ride soccer scholarship is hard to turn down.”

“No way! That’s awesome.” Sam’s face lit up with an idea. “Oh! Every summer we do this obstacle course race thing here in town as part of the summer festival. Maybe you can be on our team this year?”

“That sounds super fun! Count me in.”

“Yes!”’ Sam made a fist in the air. “We’ve used to win every year, but we’ve come in second the past three times, so maybe you’ll be our secret weapon.”

Sarah joined the conversation once she’d had her fill of online shopping. “I was thinking, Y/N, I don’t know if you’re much of a baker, but if you wanted to say thank you to Dean, he’s a sucker for a good pie. I know he wouldn’t just brush that off.”

“It’s true. He’s a pie whore.” Sam nodded.

“Sam!” Sarah scolded.

“Noted,” you said through your laughs.

The clock in the corner of your laptop screen caught your eye and you realized how late it was getting. “I should probably start heading home before I hate myself tomorrow at work.”

“At least it’s not supposed to snow tonight.” Sarah teased.

“Wow, it’s going to be like that, huh?! It’s a learning curve, okay?” You stuck your tongue out as you gathered your things.

Sam stopped you after Sarah had said goodbye. “Hey, Y/N, I know Dean doesn’t make the greatest first impression, but do me a favor and don’t write him off just yet. He’s had a rough go the past little while and could always use another friend in his corner.”

“I won’t. I’m sure there’s a great guy buried under all that angst.” You gave a reassuring smile and Sam gave you a hug before you left.

The next day was Friday and between training and helping out with the front desk, the workday flew by. You needed to take your truck in to get the battery switched and Sarah had agreed to give you rides while you were without transportation. After work, you dropped off your truck at Bobby’s, and Sarah took you home. You were glad for a little time to yourself so you could clean up the house before the first delivery of furniture tomorrow morning.

On your lunch break earlier that day, you had gotten all the ingredients to make blueberry pie bars as a thank you for Dean. Time was in short supply, so you hoped these would be a suitable place holder in lieu of a regular pie. You quickly threw them together and loaded up a plate once they were cool enough. Baking had always been a stress reliever for you, and the way it filled your small cabin with warmth and sweet smells felt so cozy and charming.

Dean’s place was only a ten-minute walk from yours, so you bundled up and began your hike. You had finally gotten yourself a suitable coat and boots and couldn’t believe the difference they made as you crunched through the snow that was matted on the gravel road. His cabin was much newer than yours, and considerably nicer. A long staircase on the right side of the house led up to a wide porch. Smoke spilling from the chimney and lights beaming through the windows told you he was probably home, so you knocked on the door.

Clattering of locks being undone broke through the silence a few moments later and an expressionless Dean opened the door.

“Hi,” you began, “I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out so much the other day.” Dean stood silent and stone-faced, so you awkwardly continued. “I, uh, heard you were a big fan of pie, but I didn’t have enough time to make one from scratch, so I hope these will do.” You extended the plate of goodies and he looked at them doubtfully.

“Look,” a gravelly voice ended his vow of silence, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not looking for any new friends or whatever this is.” He began to shut his door when you interjected.

“Listen, this is nothing more than a simple thank you for bailing me out when I really needed it. I’m not going to force you to eat them, but I’m also not going to take them home with me. Maybe just wait until I’m gone before you throw them away though.” You set the plate on a neatly stacked pile of firewood off to the side of the door. “Don’t read into it.” You echoed his parting words from yesterday and took your leave. A sneaky glance over your shoulder as you walked away revealed that Dean had picked up the plate and was looking at it with a half-impressed nod. You assumed that was as much of a reaction as you’d get from him and marked the trip to be successful.

Chapter 2

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Hello! I just saw your post about wanting remus prompts? Obvs no pressure but I cant get this out of my mind of the rat man..... BAKING

Yes... I need the rat man baking. This took me a bit because I’m really bad at writing short prompts but I like how it turned out! Originally, this was meant to be straight fluff but I couldn’t seem to get away from my personal headcanon that Remus stress bakes lol but its still mostly fluff with a little bit of vulnerability from the rat man <3

Cookies and Coping Mechanisms

Description: After SvSR, Remus knows that everyone is upset by the outcome of episode. His solution? Dragging a reluctant Virgil into the kitchen to make cookies.

Word Count: 1747

Characters: Remus, Virgil (Platonic Dukexiety)

Warnings: Remus-Type Content (Sexual innuendo, Allusions to Drugs, References to gore, etc.), Flirting, Swearing

---

    “Come on, Virgie. This'll be fun.”

    “Last time I heard that, you ended up on fire, Remus.” Virgil muttered as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, cast a cautious glance at the bouncing creative side.

    “You can't spell fun without fire!” Remus chirped happily.

     Virgil stopped in his tracks, looking up in disbelief. “Yes, you can—”

     “Not if you actually want to have fun, Gerard Gay.” Remus threw out over his shoulder as he continued his manic dive into the cupboards. Metal pans flew up to the countertop as Remus swung around to throw open another drawer with a loud clang.

    Virgil growled. His eyes darkened with exasperation as Remus tossed a bag of flour on the counter and a puff of white haze shot up into the air. “I'm so glad that Logan soundproofed the kitchen so you can as be as loud as you want.”

     “Hey, that was Roman's fault." Remus stopped digging through the fridge to point at Virgil. “He brought the firecrackers—”

     “You lit them!” Virgil threw his hands up in a gesture to the large scorch marks in front of the stove.

     “Irrelevant.” Remus purred with a playful grin. “Now preheat the oven for me, emo boy.”

    “To what?” Virgil muttered as he stalked toward the oven.

    “350 degrees, baby!”

    “Don’t call me baby.” Virgil sighed, barely looking up at the mess Remus was making as he danced around the kitchen. “I don't even know why we're doing this. Cookies can’t fix what happened.”

    “Well, it sure as hell can't hurt, Donnie Darko,” Remus winked, shooting finger guns at Virgil. “especially since we’re catering to each of them personally. Everyone can hate each other and all, but they can't hate cookies.”

    Virgil paused in confusion.  “You said we were making one batch of cookies, Remus. I didn't sign up for a whole day with—”

    “I never said we weren't. Just one batch is all we need.” Remus grinned with a teasing smile, taunting him to continue.

    “How can one batch of cookies cater to all of them?” Virgil wondered. “I mean I get Patton, but the others are a little harder to please.”

    “Don't you worry. I'll spill the beans,” Remus paused with a suggestive grin. “but first I need you to strip, Frightmare before Christmas.”

    Virgil let out an exaggerated sigh as he ducked his head to hide the redness in his cheeks. “Whatever fantasy your trying to get me play out, I won't—”

     “Lose the hoodie, Virge. Everything else is optional.” Remus interrupted, grinning suggestively as Virgil tipped his head up. “Unless—"

    “No.”

    “Fine,” Remus giggled as he gave in to Virgil. Before he walked away, he slipped a piece of paper across the table as Virgil slipped his jacket off and laid it off to the side. “It’s to get nice and toasty in here and I don’t need you looking like you just got off a sweet bender covered in a suspicious white powder when we go to deliver the goods.”

    “Okay—Okay! It’s off now.” Virgil through his hands up in exasperation as Remus wiggled his eyebrow up at him. “You can stop tormenting me.”

    “Great.” Remus cheered with a flourish of his hands as he tossed the flour at Virgil. He giggled as the bag erupted into a white puff all over Virgil, leaning into his friend’s scowl before returning to hopping about the kitchen. “Mix the dry ingredients and I'll start on the wet stuff.”

    “Great.” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened out his black tee and brushed the flour off himself. Reluctantly, he picked up the flour to begin as he looked up at Remus for explanation. “Now, tell me why you think this is going to make everything better.”

    “Well, Pattycake obviously loves homemade gifts—"

     “Patton is the easiest to please.” Virgil muttered as he measured the flour. “That's not an accomplishment.”

   “Yeah, well. All Roman wants is attention. The fact that we were thinking of him is enough to brighten his spirits,” Remus grinned as he started to whisk together his ingredients. “and the snake boy has a sweet tooth. He hates to admit it, but sugar is Janus’ comfort food.”

    Virgil paused. His eyes narrowed on Remus with skepticism in his eyes. “And what about Logan?”

     Remus’ grin widened as he swiped Virgil’s bowl and began combining the ingredients. “Well, we're making thumbprint cookies and—”

    “—and thumbprint cookies require jam.” Virgil deadpanned as Remus nodded. He stared blankly as the creative side finished the dough and reached below the counter.

     “Bingo, bad boy.” Remus chirped as he slid a jar of Crofter's across the table.

    Virgil eyed the jam suspiciously as he bit his lip. “Where exactly did you pull that from—”

    “Not relevant.” Remus cheered brightly as he handed Virgil a spoon and started forming the cookies. “Start scooping and don't skimp on the jam. I don't want to offend the nerdy professor.”

    “Re, this is—” Virgil stared as he followed behind Remus, dropping jam into the indents of the cookies. “—surprisingly thoughtful.”

    “So, what?” Remus grinned, raising an eyebrow at Virgil. “Can't a guy do a nice thing every once in a while?”

     Virgil blinked, trying to stifle his own shock. “You try to convince Thomas to jump out of moving cars or eat dirt at least daily. Nice things just aren’t what you’re about. Are they?”

     “Maybe, I don’t like being predictable.” Remus chuckled as he took the tray from Virgil and slipped it in the oven.

    “Holy shit,” Virgil’s mouth dropped open as Remus set the timer. “You actually care about how the others are feeling right now?”

    “What?” Remus mused, raising an eyebrow at Virgil. “Did you think I was here for my own amusement, stormy night?”

    “I mean, kinda.” Virgil dropped his hands to his side, tugging at the hem of his tee. “I didn’t know that you were capable of—"”

    “Of course, you wouldn't think so.” Remus interrupted with a bored tone, sounding exasperated.

     Virgil paused as Remus dropped his voice. The uncharacteristic serious in his friend's muted tone stopped him in his tracks and he turned back to see Remus leaned on his elbows, staring at the countertop.

    “After this last video without us, everyone's thoughts about themselves are turning to crap and I feel them spiraling just the way you do, emo boy.” Remus smirked as Virgil stared back at him with shock in his eyes. “So, yeah. I used to make Thomas repeat this recipe over and over in his head until he memorized the damn thing.”

    “You did that so you could bake for the others if they had a bad day?” Virgil blinked, shocked at the sudden change from Remus’ usual boisterous behavior.

    Remus let out a long sigh as he fidgeted with a wooden spoon in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. “You might be his anxiety, but your not the only one carrying that gnawing dread that nothing's gonna work out, Dr. Doom. If it's grating and repetitive, it shows up on my radar too.”

    “I had no idea." Virgil muttered, unsure of what else to say.

    “You can thank Janus for that one, Virgie baby.” Remus chirped, a little more upbeat as the time chimed off. “You didn’t want to know and the snake's been keeping you safe and snug as long as you been kicking.”

    “But what about you, Ree?” Virgil wondered out loud as Remus started to drop the hot cookies onto plates to cool. “Who keeps you safe?”

    “Eh, who cares?” Remus’ voice cracked slightly as he rolled his eyes. “Point is that I’ll feel icky and this’ll make that go away.”

    “Remus, that’s not—”

    “What? Healthy?” Remus purred, as he wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder and jostling him. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but I'm not Tommy-boy’s good coping mechanisms.”

    “No, but that's why Thomas works on them.” Virgil muttered as Remus released him. “I'm not exactly what Thomas wants all the time either, but he work through his issues so that I can focus on protecting him.”

   “Here’s the thing though,” Remus flashed Virgil a sharp-toothed grin as he chuckled. “My purpose ain’t quite so handy as yours, so its not worth that—”

    “You’re wrong, Remus.”

    Remus looked up in surprise at Virgil’s abrupt response. He stared for a moment at the concern in Virgil’s eyes before straightening up. “Oh?”

    “You keep Thomas grounded in reality.” Virgil shrugged as Remus looked up at him with skepticism in his eyes. “If Thomas lived his life looking Princey's rose-colored glasses, he'd be ignoring all the complex and difficult things that give life meaning.”

    Remus raised an eyebrow at him with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “So, there is creative value in ‘juicy butth—”

    “Stop,” Virgil held up a hand with a chuckle. “You know what I mean. Not everything is sunshine and sparkles. Thomas can’t ignore things just because he doesn’t like them. He needs the ability to face those things and you give him that, Remus.”

     Remus giggled, flashing a knowing smirk at Virgil. “You better be careful, Virgie. If you’re not, I might start to think you give a shit.”

    “I do.” Virgil dipped his head to hide the redness in his cheeks as Remus smirked at him. “I do, okay? Now, just shut up so we can deliver some cookies.”

    “Oh, gag me, emo boy.” Remus chuckled, barely concealing his smile as he made an over-exaggerated expression of disgust. “I didn't know you were capable of being so tooth-rottingly sweet—”

    “Just shut up." Virgil muttered half-heartedly as he smiled and took the plate Remus held out for him.

    Remus chuckled, nodding to the exit with a smirk. “Fine. How about we just deliver these top-notch sweets to our favorite depressed bitches then?”

    “Fine—” Virgil nodded reluctantly, hesitating as he followed Remus. “—and then maybe we could watch a movie or something after?”

   Remus nodded, perking up as he bounced along the hallway. “Something gory?”

    Virgil snorted as he staggered down the hallway. “Might as well. None of the other sides will watch scary movies with me anyway.”

    “It's a date then, stormy night.” Remus grinned, feeling lighter as they walked down the hall together. “You wore me down.”

    Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling as he followed the bouncing man ahead of him. “Good.”

---

General Taglist:

@justanotherhumanstuff​ @im-an-anxious-wreck

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Day 24: Afterlife

Billy woke up with a jerk and looked around. He was sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, and he had evidently been sleeping with his head tipped back against the wall. He appeared to be in some kind of waiting room, but he didn’t remember where he was, or what he was waiting for. He glanced around, but there weren’t any signs to help him out. There was a desk with a bored-looking woman behind it at the far end of the room, but she didn’t look like she was eager to field any questions; her glare was noticeable and legitimately intimidating. 

Billy glanced around again, and saw that the room was pretty full. Oddly, the other end of it seemed to stretch way off into the distance. He blinked a few times, but the room still looked endless. He felt the first stirrings of apprehension in his chest. He looked at the people in the chairs around him, but no one was else was even looking up. They all just seemed content to wait. 

He stayed where he was for maybe another ten minutes, scanning the room uneasily the whole time. People kept getting up and walking to the woman behind the desk, handing her something, and disappearing through a set of double doors behind her. He didn’t know how they knew to approach, or what it was they were handing over. He looked down, but there was nothing in his hands. He felt overwhelmed for a minute, and closed his eyes against the sudden threat of tears. 

Then a familiar voice caught his attention. He looked up to see Steve Harrington, of all people, talking to the woman at the desk. Steve looked different. He was wearing dark jeans and a red sweater under a dark, high-collared coat that fell to his knees. There was arrogance written in every line of his body, and his tone made it clear that whatever he was doing here was beneath him. They weren’t even really friends—thanks mostly to Billy—but Billy still felt a surge of pure relief at the sight of him.   

“There’s been a mix-up,” Steve said to the woman. “Someone was sent here by mistake, so they sent me to collect him.” The woman looked at Steve, clearly unimpressed. 

“That’s impossible,” she said flatly. Steve rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly communicating that she was wasting his time. 

“I have the paperwork,” he said, sliding something across the desk. “It’s all there.” She glanced through the papers and narrowed her eyes. Then she looked back up at Steve. 

“This wasn’t our mistake,” she said, and now her voice held a thread of uncertainty. Steve grinned at her, smile sharper than Billy had ever seen it. 

“No one said it was,” he said, in a tone of voice that indicated that someone had absolutely said that. They stared at each other for a long moment. “Do you need to get approval from a supervisor?” Steve finally asked, all smarmy condescension. Billy was a little impressed. The woman glared at him, but shook her head. She slid the papers back across the desk. 

“You’re fine to take him.”

“I’ll be sure to note your cooperation in my report,” Steve said drily. Then he turned away from the desk, tucking the papers back into the inside pocket of his coat. He walked over to Billy. As soon as Steve got close enough, Billy opened his mouth to ask what the fuck was going on, but Steve spoke before Billy could. 

“Let’s go,” he said, and nothing in his demeanor gave any indication that he knew Billy at all. It wasn’t until Billy cautiously stood up that Steve added in a low voice, pitched so that only Billy could hear it, “Follow my lead and please keep your mouth shut.” Billy had a number of valid questions, like where are we? and what the fuck is happening? and why does bored arrogance look so fucking good on you?, but there was a thread of what sounded like real fear in Steve’s voice, so Billy didn’t ask any of them. He kept his head down and his mouth shut as Steve wrapped a hand around his upper arm and steered him out of the room, away from the woman behind the desk, who was watching them with narrowed eyes. 

Steve led Billy through a confusing warren of corridors. They passed through at least a dozen hallways lined with doors that all looked the same to Billy, but Steve seemed to know exactly where he was going. Finally, they turned into a tiny office that contained a desk, a filing cabinet, and a tall cabinet with double doors. Steve closed the door behind them and locked it, and then he exhaled loudly and his shoulders sagged with relief. He shot Billy a weak smile. 

“I can’t believe that worked,” he said, and then rubbed his hands over his face. Billy just stared at him, a little thrown by the abrupt change in his demeanor. 

“What the fuck is going on, Harrington?” Steve looked at him a little warily and didn’t say anything for a long time. 

“How much do you remember about the last few days?” he finally asked. Billy thought about it and frowned. 

“I hit something with my car?” he said tentatively, and it came out as a question. Steve nodded and then hesitated. 

“Nothing after that?” he asked. Billy furrowed his brow and thought about it, but he only had the barest flashes of memory after that, and none of them made any sense at all. 

“You’re starting to freak me out, Harrington,” he said. Steve stared at him for a long moment. 

“Ok, I swear that I will give you a far more in-depth explanation once we get out of here, but time is not on our side right now, so I have to give you the short version.” Steve took a deep breath. “There’s at least one other dimension, there are monsters in it, you got possessed by one, then you died, and now you’re in the afterlife. I’m here to try to sneak you out of hell.” Billy stared at him, frowning. 

“You’re fucking with me,” he finally said. Steve sighed. 

“What about me suggests that I am fucking with you right now? The anxiety? The fear? The way I am definitely not laughing?” he asked, and Billy studied him. His eyes were big and dark and sincere. Billy recalled the endless waiting room and the way Steve’s relief had been palpable when they made it out of the maze of corridors and into this office.

“You’re serious?” he asked. Steve nodded. 

“I wish I wasn’t, but yeah. That’s what was happening that night at the Byers—I was trying to keep the kids from fighting monsters, which did not work out, by the way.” Billy barely heard him; he was still stuck on the fact that he had died. He almost asked how he had died, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The flashes of memory he did have were making him uneasy. Then something occurred to him.  

“Wait, if this is hell, what are you doing here? Did you also die?” He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He didn’t want Steve to be dead, but he was happy not to be here alone. But Steve shook his head.

“No,” he said, hand going to the back of his neck. He grimaced. “My dad works here, so I can go back and forth.” Billy’s jaw dropped. 

“Your dad is a demon?” Billy asked incredulously. Now Steve had to be fucking with him. Steve snorted. 

“God, no. My dad wishes he was a demon. He’s some kind of manager in the Records Department.”

“What the fuck?” Billy whispered to himself. “Your dad is a bureaucrat. In hell,” he said flatly to Steve. 

“Yes, and I promise I will answer all of your questions about that later, but for now, we kind of need to hurry.” Steve crossed the room to the tall cabinet in the corner. He opened it and pumped his fist. “Yessss,” he said to himself, and then he pulled something off a hanger and tossed it to Billy. Billy didn’t catch it. He squared his shoulders instead. Steve’s mention of that night in November had raised another question. 

“Why are you helping me?” he asked. Steve turned from where he was still rifling through the cabinet, muttering come on, come on to himself. 

“What?” he asked.

“You heard me,” Billy said. “I was a dick to you, kind of generally, so why?” Steve rolled his eyes, impatient. 

“Because El can read minds, so she’s known what my dad does for a while now, and Max was devastated when you died, and then El looked at me expectantly when they were talking about it, and I can’t disappoint her. So. Here I fucking am.” He nodded at the pile of fabric he had tossed to Billy before. “Now put that on.” Billy continued to ignore it instead. 

“So you’re here because of Max?” he asked slowly. “And El?” Something about that hurt, for some reason. Steve blinked at him, and then his expression softened a little. 

“No matter how big of a dick you were, you didn’t deserve to die,” he said firmly. “Now change so we can get out of here.” Billy picked up whatever Steve had tossed at him earlier, and discovered that it was French maid’s costume, with a short little skirt and apron. He looked at Steve. 

“No fucking way,” he said. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Hell has these, like, interns, okay? It’s a fucking terrible job and everyone’s a dick to you, and you have to fetch just a staggering amount of terrible coffee, and you have to wear the stupid fucking maid outfit.” Billy grinned suddenly.

“Are you speaking from experience, pretty boy? Because it kind of sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Steve flushed.

“I am not having this conversation,” he said. “Just put it on and keep your mouth shut, and maybe we can get out of here without getting literally flayed, ok?” Billy crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk.

“Answer the question or I’m not doing anything.” 

“I don’t think you’re grasping the stakes here, amigo,” Steve said, but Billy just stared him down until Steve finally threw his hands up and caved. “Fine, yes, I interned for my dad for a summer, and I wore the fucking outfit, and it was the worst summer of my life. On the plus side, that’s where I picked up all the skills I needed to forge the papers I used to get you out of intake, so at least it was good for something. Now please get dressed.” Billy eyed the outfit again. 

“The clothes I’m wearing now were fine on the way here,” he pointed out, and Steve huffed impatiently. 

“Yes, because we’re still on the intake floor, so it’s not unusual to see Souls wandering around. Unfortunately, there’s no exit on this floor. We have to go further into hell to get to an exit, and we’ll get caught instantly if you look like that.” He gestured at Billy’s dirty jeans and tank top. Billy looked at the maid outfit again. 

“This is humiliating,” he said. Steve shot him a look.  

“Yes, obviously, this is hell. The humiliation is intentional.” Billy sighed. 

“I’m only putting it on if you promise to model yours for me later,” he tried. Steve narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m already rescuing you from hell, Hargrove—don’t push your luck.” Billy huffed, but didn’t move.

“You know, I’m not sure it’s worth coming back from hell if I never get to see you in this outfit,” he said, holding it up in front of him. 

“You cannot be fucking serious,” Steve said. Billy still made no move to get dressed. He just cocked an eyebrow at Steve.  

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Steve groaned. “Why are you like this? Fine, whatever, just put it the fuck on so we can go.”

“That’s the spirit,” Billy said, and reluctantly got dressed. Once he was ready, Steve hesitated, looking uncertain. “What’s the problem?” Billy asked, wanting to get this over with. The skirt on his outfit was short.  

“I was hoping to find another badge in the wardrobe,” he said. “The fact that you don’t have one might be a problem.”

“Badge?” Billy asked, and Steve gestured at something that was pinned to the lapel of his coat. It looked like an ancient coin, made out of some kind of dark metal, old enough so that whatever had been inscribed on it was worn almost smooth. Billy didn’t recognize the language. 

“It’s how you get into, and more importantly out of, hell,” Steve said, and then he shrugged. “Guess we’re winging it. Be ready to follow my lead, and try to act like a scared intern.” Steve squared his shoulders and led the way out the door. 

They passed through five floors without incident, though Billy stopped really looking around after the second floor. Some of the doors were open, and he saw and heard things that were definitely going to haunt his nightmares forever. After that, it was surprisingly easy to act intimidated. He kept his head down, glancing up occasionally at the tight line of Steve’s shoulders under his clearly expensive coat. Steve had put the expression of bored arrogance back on as soon as they left the office, and his strides were purposeful. He moved like he had somewhere to be, and no one questioned him. 

Soon, they were standing in front of a bank of elevators, and Steve’s shoulders relaxed just slightly as an elevator opened in front of them. He stepped inside and gestured for Billy to follow. A triumphant smile was just starting to grow on Steve’s face as the elevator doors closed, and then a slim hand reached between the doors, causing them to open again. 

Billy was watching Steve, so he saw the way Steve’s eyes widened when a tall, curvy woman stepped onto the elevator. She smiled at them, and somehow the smile seemed to contain too many teeth. She was wearing a low-cut red dress that hugged every single one of her curves, and a fitted black blazer. A large gold badge was pinned to the front of the blazer. 

“Floor negative thirteen, please,” she said to Steve in a low, husky voice. He swallowed hard and hit the button for that floor, and then the button for the lobby. They rode in silence for a couple of floors, and then the woman spoke again. 

“Where are you two headed?” she asked pleasantly. Steve opened his mouth to answer and she held up a warning finger. “Before you say anything, I should warn you that some people like to say that I invented lying. So I’m very good at recognizing it.” She gave the shark-toothed smile again, and Steve took a long breath. Billy was a little impressed by how even his voice was when he finally spoke. 

“Just headed home,” Steve said. The woman raised one impeccably groomed eyebrow. 

“With a Soul dressed as an intern?” she asked, and Steve closed his eyes and winced. The woman gave a wave of her hand and the elevator slowed to a stop. “Why don’t you try that again?” she said, her tone icy. Steve opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. 

“I am heading home,” he said. “My dad works in the Records Department, so I’m just visiting. I’m not technically authorized to take him with me, but I’m doing it anyway,” he said. Her smile this time was a little less threatening. 

“Better,” she said, and then she cocked her head. “Why?” she asked. 

“What?” Steve asked blankly. 

“You’re taking an enormous risk. We both know what happens if I turn you in, and we both know that it’s going to be very, very painful.” She took a step toward Steve as she said it, but Billy stepped between them before he even really thought about it.

“Leave him alone,” he said in a low voice. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be here, so if you want to threaten someone, you can threaten me.” Billy heard Steve sigh behind him, and then Steve grabbed his arm to turn him around. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. 

“We already got caught,” Billy pointed out, “and the only reason you’re here is to help me. Let me deal with the fallout.” Steve frowned at him, eyes dark. He stepped further into Billy’s space. 

“You didn’t break any rules,” he said firmly. “I did.” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Billy said angrily. Steve threw his arms out in frustration. 

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous?” he shot back. “You don’t even know what you’re volunteering for. Have you ever seen someone get drawn and quartered? Because I have.”  

“Oh, interesting,” the woman practically purred, and they turned to look at her. She was watching them, her eyes wide with delight.

“Both of you have a little fire, don’t you?” she said thoughtfully. Then she turned to Billy and eyed him critically. “You’re never making it past the lobby dressed like that,” she said. She waved her hand again, and Billy was wearing jeans and a dark red button-down. Only the bottom two buttons were buttoned and she smiled, amused. “I see we both appreciate a deep vee,” she said, and Billy flushed a little. She laughed. Steve was watching her, his brow furrowed. 

“Why are you helping us?” he asked. “Not that we don’t appreciate it, but…” Steve trailed off, but she nodded as though he had finished the sentence. She shrugged and then smiled brightly. 

“Because chaos is often far more fun than upholding the rules. Besides,” she added thoughtfully, “I can’t say that I feel any particular sense of loyalty to either side of the afterlife.” There was just a hint of bitterness to her tone and Steve’s eyes widened as realization hit.  

“You’re Lilith,” he breathed, and her smile returned. 

“I am,” she agreed. 

“Lilith?” Billy blurted out before he could stop himself. “Like, from the Bible?”

“From some versions of it, yes,” she said.

“So you’re a demon?” Billy asked. 

“No one seems to be able to agree on exactly what I am,” she said cheerfully. 

“But you’re definitely supposed to be evil,” Steve said, frowning. “All the stories agree—“ She rolled her eyes as she cut him off. 

“Never underestimate the power of a story that people are eager to believe,” she said. She looked at Billy as she said it, and he found himself thinking about all the times that Neil had managed to convince some authority figure or another that Billy needed a firm hand to keep him in line. He shuddered a little. She kept talking. “Besides, it’s extremely rare that anyone is either completely good or completely evil. Even here in the afterlife, people switch sides all the time. Lucifer gets the most attention because he made a gigantic production out of it, as per usual, but it happens very regularly.” They both stared at her. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but she glanced down at her watch. “Oh hell,” she said, “Now I’m going to be late.” 

She casually waved her hand and the elevator started moving again. Moments later, they heard a ding and the doors slid open onto what could have been the lobby from any moderately fancy high-rise office building. 

“Good luck,” she said as she rushed them out of the elevator. 

They almost made it. They had crossed the lobby and could see the wide glass double doors that opened onto a busy sidewalk when a uniformed guard stepped in front of them. 

“Just need to see both of your badges,” he said with a glare at Billy. “You are of course aware that it is building policy to have your badge visible at all times,” the guard added in a monotone. 

“Of course,” Billy said with a smile. “Let me just…” he patted at his pants pockets, as though he was going to find a badge in there, and he felt something in one of the back pockets. He pulled it out and looked at it. It was a shiny black rectangle the size of a business card. It felt heavy and cool in Billy’s hand. As he looked at it, the name Lilith seemed to rise up out of the depths of the card. It flowed across the front in a blood-red script and then vanished again. The guard paled as he looked at it.

“Sorry, sir,” he said quickly, eyes glued to the card. “You didn’t say that you were one of the Lady’s special guests. My sincerest apologies, and please enjoy the rest of your day.” The guard escorted them to the glass doors, and even held the door open for them. He gave them a little salute as they left. 

“Wow,” said Steve, once they had made it a few blocks from the building with no sign of pursuit. “I gotta be honest—I was not expecting that to go as well as it did.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied absently, turning the card over in his hand. As he looked at it, he saw a message floating into view on the back in the same blood-red script. He read the four lines and felt the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. That was the least boring part of my day. You’re both adorable, and I hope you make it work. If you ever get back into trouble, feel free to do a summoning. I might even answer.

Billy slung one arm around Steve’s shoulder as they made their way down the busy sidewalk. 

“You owe me any number of explanations, pretty boy,” he said, “but first, about your promise to model that intern uniform for me…” Steve sighed heavily. 

“You have the weirdest fucking priorities,” he said. 

[sapphiewrites-twst]

Change of plans, I think this is going to last about four chapters. I think went a little overboard with Pomefiore’s part 😅 It’ll be split into two parts because, again, I went too crazy with it.

Since this is Pomefiore’s part, Rook would inevitably appear. I know absolutely 0% French, so please bear with me.

Anyhow, without further ado, enjoy~

Part one Part Two

Will these things happen to me too? When will that be? Who will it be? They say it’s sweet like candy and it feels like flying.

What is love?

AFTER everyone witnessed your red-faced breakdown in Alchemy, you decided it was probably a wise idea to keep a low profile for the rest of the day. Which is exactly why you ended up next to Vil and Rook in Magical History.

Again, it was a joint class today, unfortunately for you. And it wasn’t your idea to sit next to the two. In fact, you deliberately arrived to class early to choose a seat in the far corner of the lecture hall.

However, it seemed as if luck wasn’t on your side today.

“Ah~ If it isn’t the Mademoiselle of Ramshackle.” Oh no. No, no, no. You looked up and confirmed your fears. Rook tipped his hat at you, swiftly settling himself in the seat next to you.

It’s not that you minded his company. In fact, Rook is a great person converse with, as you were both avid talkers. However, in addition to being in Pomefiore, the blonde man is the vice-dorm leader of said dorm, and that attracts attention. Which was exactly the opposite of what you wanted.

“Uh, Rook-senpai—” As expected, before you could finish your sentence, Rook cut in with a dramatic flip of his shoulder-length blonde hair. “Non, non, it’s quite alright for me to sit with you, mademoiselle.”

That’s not what I’m concerned about, you wanted to say, but you swallowed your words back and settled on expressing your exasperation. “I’m not even going to ask about what you just called me.”

“You’re concerned about something, non?” Ignoring your statement, Rook asked seriously, staring intently at your face. Slightly embarrassed from his intense stare, you let your hair form a curtain between you and Rook’s scrutinizing gaze.

A moment of silence passed. Another, then another. The silence was deafening, and you thought for sure you had offended your senpai, who just wanted to make sure you were alright. Just when you’re about to say something, your hair was lifted out of the way. The dramatic vice-dorm leader ran his hand through your hair, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Whatever it may be, feel better soon, dear colombe.” Before you could express your gratitude for Rook’s kind words, he followed up with, “Why (Name), your hair is way too dry to be healthy! Shall I recommend a better hair conditioner brand?”

Poor Epel. Boy am I glad I’m not in Pomefiore.

---

Having talkative Rook next to you is bad enough, so when you spotted the Drama Queen himself entering the room, your heart sank. Tapping your fingers rhythmically on the table (as if it would help you in any way), you chanted under your breath, “Don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over,” praying that the dorm leader of Pomefiore leaves you alone

All your efforts were unfortunately ruined by Rook.

“Vil! Over here, next to (Name).”

The second your eyes met with Vil’s, you knew you a goner.

Vil’s amethyst colored eyes narrowed as he strutted over to where you and Rook are seated. Bending over the desk, Vil leaned close to your face, his features showing clear displeasure. “Rook,” he began, crossing his arms. You got the distinct feeling he was looking down his nose at you. “What is the meaning of this?”

Most of your upperclassmen are pretty nice to you, despite many of their flaws. However, you knew the aforementioned upperclassmen personally, while you weren’t exactly buddy-buddy with Vil.

“Why are you seated next to such a,” Vil paused, nose scrunching up in what you imagined was beautiful disgust, “potato?”

Maybe you deemed Vil’s behavior to be petty beyond human comprehension, or maybe you were just a bit fed up with everyone’s “Oh, everything’s fine. It’ll go back to normal soon enough,” attitudes, but nevertheless, you felt a strange obligation to defend potatoes.

“Actually,” you stood up in your seat, hands on your desk, head tilted up definitely, “potato blossoms used to be a big fashion statement among royalties back in the days, so calling me a potato is nothing short of a compliment, which I’m sure was not your intention.”

You could hear Rook’s amused chuckle in the background, but you were hyper focused on Vil’s face. The Pomefiore dorm leader glared at you in pure disbelief. But before he could shoot back a retort, Trein-sensei interrupted, glaring at the both of you.

“Schoenheit, take a seat right now, next to (Last Name).”

Vil gave you a last glare, but still moved to take the seat on your other side, albeit scooting it as far away from you as possible. You glared right back, but moved even closer to the ombre-haired third year just to spite him.

The glaring went on for a little more until it was time for group studies. You stood up as soon as Trein-sensei gave the signal, looking around for more approachable people to work with.

Which immediately failed when Rook pulled you back into your seat by the hem of your blazer. “(Name)~ Don’t be like that.”

You shot the eccentric third-year a flat look. “I have to find a partner.” Rook grinned broadly, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “Ah, but are we not already partners?”

You weren’t particularly against the idea of being Rook’s partner, it’s just that you wanted to be as far away from Vil as possible. “Well, actually, uh—” But then again, you didn’t want to hurt your upperclassman’s feelings.

“We need another person, don’t we?” You managed to mutter, hoping the green-eyed third-year would get the message and leave you be. However, Rook seemed adamant to keep you as his partner. “No matter, we can invite Vil along. Now doesn’t that sound brilliant!”

Maybe for you, you thought to yourself bitterly. It seemed as if you were out of options. Vil can’t be that bad, can he?

Wrong. You were very wrong.

“You’re doing it all wrong.” Vil huffed, eyeing your answer. “Oh, come on now, Vil. It’s not that bad, mademoiselle, although some information doesn’t sound very authentic.” Rook dismissed Vil’s comment cheerfully, ignoring your face of pure annoyance.

You glanced at the clock on the far side of the lecture hall, squinting to see the time, just for a certain someone’s stupid mane of hair to block your view.

The continuous pattern of Vil nit-picking at your answers and Rook frivolously lessening the impact of the violet-eyed third-year’s snarky remarks has been going on ever since the start of the project.

It was driving you nuts, yet you couldn’t voice your utter distaste for Vil in fear of getting reprimanded by Trein-sensei, who you swore was keeping an eye on your group in particular.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Vil’s annoying voice. “Are you even listening?” He snapped, jabbing a finger at the textbook. “I already told you three times to read this paragraph for us, are you deaf?”

Before you could snap back, you heard the last of the Pomefiore dorm leader’s words, which obviously weren’t meant for you to hear, as he whispered it under his breath. “No wonder Epel decided to focus on his project instead.”

You told yourself every single day since your friends drifted away that you wouldn’t cry.

No matter what anyone said. But the annoyance and helplessness that had built up during the day was already clawing at your delicate nerves.

Vil’s comment was merely what pushed it all over.

The rush of emotions pushing against your chest, restricting your breathing was the first sign of what was about to come. The burn in your nose was the second, along with the immediate blurring of your vision.

You tried, oh how hard you tried to stop it, but alas, tears can’t be stopped.

You stared down at your lap, watching the first of many drops fall onto your clenched fists. You could almost hear the abrupt halt of all the sounds and whispers in the large room. You stood up, chair clattering to the floor behind you.

“Please excuse me,” the whisper of your voice echoed around the silent room. You couldn’t and didn’t want to see Vil’s face as each step towards the door warranted more silent questions from your classmates.

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 02

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader |  Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut 

Summary:  Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k

< masterpost >

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Bold = English

       "You make it sound like we're gonna die." 

"Yeah well you will, if you don't move your ass." I swung open my door, tugging the mask higher on my face and swishing my (h/c) hair around to cover the rest partially. 

Hopefully any lurking cameras wouldn't sneak a peek of my flustered appearance, because that would be embarrassing in itself. I had worn only the lightest makeup possible today. Of course I didn't want to look like a troll in front of my customers, but now that I was breathing right next to two perfect, ethereal human beings, I suddenly wished I’d made a better effort to impress. 

"Quick!" Jimin's abrupt gasp snapped me out of my thoughtless gazing, and I turned around to see Jungkook walking towards me swiftly. Jimin was already heading inside, but had thrown a worried glance back in my direction when he saw my frozen form on the pavement. I instantly started at the sudden pressure on my lower back and jumped forward when Jungkook's large hand pressed me in that direction. 

"Sorry, but you probably shouldn't touch me if people can see," I murmured and led the way through the sliding doors into the cooled administration room.

Jungkook's tentative hand jerked away as if he had touched a burning hot iron.

The weather had been quite warm outside, but I hadn't taken too much notice because of the exceptional air conditioning of my car. I whipped my head around one last time to blow a tiny kiss to my precious baby parked outside, as it was still new and had already been through an exciting car-chase of sorts. Even copping a harsh slap to the ass in the process. 

I'll be back soon Red. 

I turned back around to see the cheeky maknae giving me an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised. 

"Don't judge me, it's new." 

When Namjoon came to fetch his two younger members, he was definitely far from pleased. As soon as he entered the room all three of us were sitting in, he gave me a quick glance up and down with his expression hardening the closer he looked. Despite his misgivings, the tall man still managed to flash me a strained smile while he dipped his head in a sign of respect. He was truly a kind soul, and I knew he’d probably need to make an initial judgement based off this first look.

The professional demeanour continued as his careful eyes flickered to Jimin and Jungkook. He had already gone through the initial apologies and displays of gratitude as soon as he bowed, but now his expression was disappointed as he beckoned the other two members in the room.

"You two come with me." 

Damn, his leader voice was definitely no joke! I felt myself squirm in my seat, probably from the uncomfortable tension suddenly flooding the room. Namjoon looked as good as ever, silvery grey hair styled in a way that just made me speechless, but his usually calm and thoughtful expression was tired and stressed. 

Poor guy, he must have torn his hair out over this. I hope he doesn't think I'm insane or something.

I knew there was absolutely no way he would trust me completely on the first meeting, but seeing as though his fellow band members had mentioned their situation and fortunate escapade, his gaze seemed softer than it could've been.

Thinking about what could've gone wrong made me shudder, and I pushed the thoughts away as the two boys I had shared a car with for the past half an hour jumped to their feet. I was sad, but I mean who wouldn't be? I had fangirled over them so many times and once I’d actually met them, it seemed quite literally too good to be true.

I knew they couldn't stay though, and when it came down to it, I was most likely viewed as just another fan. Just another fan that they had happened to meet coincidentally, but still nothing too estranged from a fan meeting event where girls from various backgrounds would provide them with gifts and words of encouragement. 

Why would I expect anything different from this? 

I forced down the bile rising in my throat and avoided making eye contact with any of the boys, as I couldn't bear to watch them go. Slipping through my fingers, kind of like the moment you begin to wake up from a dream you longed to replay over and over.

The realisation that they’d halted in their movements took me way too long, but as I snapped up to meet Jungkook's conflicted expression, I suddenly gasped. "Oh, sorry!" 

I tugged off the mask he had graciously lent me and held it out with a shaky hand in the younger boy's direction. His eyes flashed with recognition and even surprise, much to my own confusion. 

"Oh, that...I won't mind if you keep it, I have plenty of others." 

I let out a sharp breath and smiled forlornly. "Creepy, you're giving me your clothes now?"

I laughed softly when he rolled his eyes and dismissed me with a joking wave of his hand, bunny smile flashing. Jimin also couldn't help but grin at the maknae's chivalrous attempt and how it had completely backfired.

Someone cleared their throat deeply and I met the pointed look of Namjoon once more, even though his gaze had settled the tiniest bit at seeing his fellow members act comfortably. 

"(Y/n)-ssi, is it?" 

"Yes, I'm sorry to make you wait so long Kim Namjoon-ssi. You must have been worried sick." I struggled to be as respectful as I could, my eyebrows knitting together in concentration as I spoke. Did I even use the correct honorific? Maybe I should have used something higher because he's the leader of the group. Ah, I don't know! 

A chuckle broke me from the horrifying contemplation, and I flinched slightly as Jimin bent down to enter my line of vision. "Don't worry too hard about all the honorific stuff, Namjoonie-hyung will understand." 

I nodded with a cringe alighting my features, annoyed at my own obvious floundering with their language. I had been in the country for a couple of months, so why couldn't I just get my act together and converse properly? 

"Do...you speak English at all?" Namjoon ventured with a smile that made his dimples pop adorably. I let out a big sigh and ran a hand through my windblown hair while nodding. 

"Yep, I'm from (Y/c). But I do understand Korean fairly well, it's just the honorifics and technicalities that trip me up a bit." 

Jimin and Jungkook groan simultaneously at the revelation that I was fluent in the language they practiced the most, and I couldn't help but smirk. They must have had some suspicion, as I did't exactly look Korean anyway, but there was always the notion that I could have been born to foreign parents and grown up here. 

"I never would have known! Your Korean is still great," Jimin whined lowly and I couldn't help but laugh, the look in my eyes eventually shifting to one of apology. 

"That's fine, it's alright to just use 'ssi' anyway," Namjoon nodded and I relaxed my shoulders in relief. The switch back to Korean was somewhat jarring, but it was only fair that everyone in the room should understand the gist of the conversation. 

"But hyung, she told us she doesn't mind if you don't use them for her," Jungkook was next to pipe up, and I was surprised he even remembered such a thing at this point in time. I just smiled and shook my head in response. 

"I don't mind either way. I'm not fussed at all." 

"Yes, well we should be going anyway." Namjoon cut off the conversation and glanced at his watch, looking back around at everyone in the room. 

"Thankyou (Y/n)-ssi for taking care of our members, something like this shouldn't happen again." 

At the sound of their leader's stern voice, the boys both hung their heads slightly, and I knew that even though the situation had worked out for the best, it definitely was not ideal for this kind of thing to happen when their careers could be put on the line. 

"It's alright, Jungkook's mask is the only thanks I need," I decided to joke so that I can see the younger boys smile again, and I was rewarded with the most beautiful pearly white grins yet. Namjoon chuckled and motioned with one hand for the boys to leave the room before him.

Jungkook turned and threw a small wave and bow in my direction. I returned them, and he finally exited the room with a hefty sigh to let out all of his pent-up stress. Jimin followed with the same gestures and I responded with a faintly sorrowful smile. Ah, what I wouldn’t give to just spend a whole day with them. I was then ultimately left alone with the leader of BTS. To say I wasn’t a tad intimidated would be a lie. 

"Once again, you have truly done us a service. We are glad to have a fan such as yourself supporting us,” Namjoon spoke after a few seconds of silent tension.

"Thank you, you have no idea how much you guys have helped me already, so please don't feel as though you owe me anything," I quietly respond and watch as his eyes cloud with admiration and respect suddenly.

Maybe he regretted acting so robotic and cold when he came in, but he was the leader and professionalism mattered so much when you were faced with a situation that called for big demonstrations of leadership. Namjoon smiled and bowed again, reaching out to shake my hand kindly before leaving the room to join the others. I knew all that was left was meeting the CEO of Bighit Entertainment. 

Yeah, because that's something to just brush over. 

God, so much was happening to me today. How could I possibly go back to streaming endless amounts of videos and fangirling over pictures when I had actually spoken with three members of the band itself? I forced down the niggling thoughts of 'that's only three out of seven' and grunted apprehensively. 

You're lucky enough as it is, don't be greedy. 

The thing is, nothing about my long-distance relationship with the boys was normal anymore, and I wondered if the girls who attended fan-meetings felt exactly the same way. The fact that they were just normal guys with normal thoughts had always crossed my mind when I watched them through the screen, but seeing it in action proved to be disarming at the very least. 

Stupid world-famous idols, don't play with my heart like this.

The meeting and disclaimer signage with Bang PD went well in the end, and I was consistently surprised at how kind-hearted and open he was with everything that had gone down. All the staff I had encountered were nothing short of accommodating, and they were continuously apologising for the mess caused. Even though I had told them many times it was truly a blessing in disguise, they remained insistent on the matter.

"Please, I want you to take this as a token of our gratitude." Bang PD smiled warmly in my direction, and before I could refuse he held out a slip of paper. It was a cheque, and my eyes blew wide when my eyes scanned the tiny bold numbers printed neatly on the surface.

"Please, I can't accept this, I already got paid for my service."

Before the short man could shake his head and insist further, a light knock sounded on the frosted glass pane of the office door before opening. In stepped a young woman who bowed repeatedly for her intrusion, her short night black hair bobbing up and down along with her.

"I'm terribly sorry Bang PD-nim, but the donor from Chile has arrived back at the office ahead of schedule."

The founder of Bighit nodded in understanding, clearing his throat to speed up whatever process was happening. He turned back to me with a reassuring glance and I took a deep breath, fully understanding I wasn't really able to refuse his generous offer.

"Right, well thank you once again for your service, I have other things to attend to it seems. It was lovely to meet you."

The cheque still scorching hot in my left hand not going unnoticed, I forced myself to return his smile with a gulp. He gestured softly for the door and followed me out. The young woman looked quite flustered as she shifted from foot to foot just outside the bleak office entryway.

The building's interior was very modern and clean-cut, and I knew it was probably very, very different from the actual Bighit Entertainment building itself. Seeing as it was meant for living arrangements and not vital meetings such as the one mentioned earlier.

I exchanged formalities with Mr.Bang once more before I turned towards the exit of the dormitory building, my big and exciting day coming to a close just like that.

"I'm sorry, but it seems our Spanish interpreter has called in absent today. I've just been informed that the donor came without one," the hushed whisper from the woman reached my ears as I took a couple of steps towards the large glass doors. I heard a sharp click of a tongue and a deep, masculine sigh from behind me. 

"Well what are we going to do? I don't know enough Spanish for an entire face-to-face meeting like this."

"Does anyone else in the company?" The woman's voice was growing frantic, as she was apparently about to drown in her sudden bout of panic.

Bang PD's tone was irritated. "Why the hell was this not scheduled better?"

I honestly could not blame him. What kind of interpreter would just call in absent on such an important event? Even if the sickness was life-threatening, there were ways to notify and organise something to compensate for it, or give some warning to reschedule.

A small smile stretched my lips as I twirled around on one of my heels happily, once again facing the distraught looking woman and CEO who were deep in hurried conversation.

"If I mentioned that I was fluent in Spanish, would that help?"

             Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.   

[minuteminx]

Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Four: Sole Survivor

Chapter Summary:   Charlie tells Preston a long story. 

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

“A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew.”

― Aberjhani, Journey through the Power of the Rainbow: Quotations from a Life Made Out of Poetry

Sanctuary  Hills, October 2287

The trek out of Concord, and up the road to a place called Sanctuary Hills was largely silent and uneventful. Preston took point, and Charlie offered to hang back in case there were any straggling raiders who decided to follow. He wasn’t so sure that she was in any condition to watch the rear, but he wasn’t about to argue with the woman who’d just turned a deathclaw inside out. It was more than alarming to see the bloody massacre Charlie’s tangle with the deathclaw had caused up close and personal as they passed by. He was just glad she’d survived, and that he didn’t have to fight the damn thing.

On the way to their hopeful home, Sturges spotted a largely intact Red Rocket on the side of the road, stacked with old tires and filled with useless junk that Sturges would scrape up a use for. Jun and Marcy walked together in somber silence and Mama Murphy hobbled along in the back, arm looped through Charlie’s, whose open hand gripped a 10mm so tightly her knuckles turned white. She had a hell of a poker face, he’d give her that much.

Nearing the old neighborhood, a statue of a lone guardian stood tall, musket in hand, holding his centuries-old post at the bridge where the American Revolution began. It was almost like some weird omen, Preston thought, observing the Minuteman and then the bridge. Maybe Mama’s visions had some truth to them after all. He did not realize he’d mused out loud until Sturges’ hand clapped him on the back.

“I don’t know what the heck you’re talkin’ about boss, but I’m glad you’re happy.”

Preston laughed. “Thanks, man.”

Crossing Old North Bridge into their hopeful home seemed monumental, the group propelled forward by the potential of a place to finally rest. There were more than a handful of homes that still had enough structural integrity to be tidied and boarded up for use as shelters. It was bittersweet to see the remnants of picket fences, lawn furniture, and pink, plastic birds that dotted the landscape. Skeletons of old cars littered spots where garages might have been. Preston imagined what the area might have been like back before the war, pictured neighbors talking to one another from their yards, children playing together in the streets. It was a way of life he knew he’d never get to have.

Before long, Preston had done a sweep of the entire cul de sac, making sure there wasn’t anything dangerous lurking inside any buildings. All he found were several dead rad roaches and bloatflies, as well as a high-strung Mr. Handy robot that called itself Codsworth.  It kept attempting to scrub the rust off the paneling outside one of the homes, muttering something about making sure it was in “tip-top” shape for when its family returned. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with the thing, so he just left it to clean aimlessly in hopes that it’d be someone else’s problem later.

“Hey boss,” Sturges called out to him, waving him overs to where the others had congregated near the mechanic’s makeshift workstation, lamplight flickering on their exhausted faces, “Check out what we found in one of the fridges.”

Preston walked over, catching a glimpse of the round face of Button Gwinnett on a cardboard case of Southie Stouts. “Damn, and here I thought we’d used up all our luck for the day.”

“I’d prefer Beantown,” Marcy said as she brought her bottle to her lips, and Preston caught the briefest flash of a grin wrinkling at the corners of her mouth.

“C’mon Marcy,” Jun interjected, nudging her shoulder, “You know that’s not true.”

“I’m a Gwinnett guy, but I’d probably drink anything wet with a kick right about now,” Preston said, grabbing one of the dark brown bottles and examining it more closely. It had been forever since he’d actually gotten to enjoy a drink, long before Qunicy, that was for sure. Just as he placed his hand on the cap to pop it off, there was a bump at the back of his legs. He startled and turned around to see Dogmeat peering up at him expectantly, whining and wagging his tail. Preston knelt down and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “You a Gwinnett guy, too, boy?”

The dog let out a stern bark that sounded like a correction, and then turned toward the house across the street before looking back at him. Following Dogmeat’s instruction, Preston glanced over at the house, where Charlie stood alone, frozen and staring vacantly inside as if she wanted to enter but couldn’t.  Without hesitation, he grabbed another bottle and headed toward her

He cleared his throat as he approached to make sure he didn’t startle her.  It was neither polite nor smart to spook a lady who was already pretty shaken up.  She darted her head toward him, scrubbing at her face as if he wouldn’t notice her tear-stained cheeks and swollen nose. He pretended not to, anyway, instead holding up the bottles in his hands and smiling. “Thought you could use a drink.”

She perked up at the sight of the drinks, tilting her head and squinting at the label. “Are those--? Oh wow.”

“Yeah,” Preston said, popping the cap off of one of the bottles and handing it to her, “Stouts are harder to come by than the other stuff.”

Charlie shook her head and examined the bottle, running her thumb up and down across the label. “No… it’s just.  I’m surprised there are still any left after you know--” she swallowed hard-- “the bombs.”

She sounded harrowed, as if the bombs had just fallen yesterday or something. Maybe she was just harrowed in general.  God knew she had every right to be.

“Me too,” Preston said, opening his own drink and taking a swig, lukewarm and bitter.  It hit the spot. “It’s kinda crazy, you know, what survived.

She took a sip, sad smile at the corners of her mouth. “Like the lawn flamingos? Such a testament to pre-war vanity.”

“Those damn birds,” Preston replied, nodding and laughing.  He’d never thought much about the lawn ornaments before, other than thinking they were ridiculous.

The air between them fell silent as Charlie stared down at her bottle, picking at the label with a polished thumbnail. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it and sighed before glancing over at him. “Can I tell you something?  It’s going to sound really weird, but I’m going to lose my shit if I don’t talk to someone.”

“Is this that ‘long story’ you mentioned before?”

“Yeah.” Charlie walked toward the bright red door to the house in front of them, slightly ajar, knob and hinges specked with rust. She ran her hand along the wooden surface and took a deep breath.  “I used to live here.  In Sanctuary Hills.  In this house.”

“But,” Preston’s brows drew together, “That’s not possible.  This place hasn’t been settled since--”

“Before the bombs fell.” She spun back around to look at him, leaning back against the door frame. “I know.  That’s when I lived here.”

“Two-hundred and ten years ago?”

She nodded her head slowly. “2077.  I had the perfect life: a good career, the best husband, a beautiful baby boy, and a shiny new Mr. Handy unit that was much less neurotic than the one over there trying to clean the dirt off the ground.”

He blinked, attempting to figure out where he’d misheard the woman, because if he hadn’t then that would make her over two-hundred years old.  That couldn’t be possible, at least not without being a ghoul, although he wouldn’t mind if she could take Codsworth off his hands.  

Charlie frowned. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“No, no,” Preston stammered out quickly,  “I believe you, but… how?”

“That might be a better question for Vault-Tec,” she remarked, looking down at her suit, “My husband and I signed up for a  spot, just as a precaution.  Nobody thought the Chinese military would actually drop those nukes. Not sure if it was arrogance or complacency, but either way, it happened.  My family and I were rushed to Vault 111 to shelter.  That’s all it was supposed to be: A shelter .”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t just a shelter?”

“No.” She laughed bitterly.  “They herded us, like lab rats, into these cryogenic chambers, and locked us in there.  Last thing I remembered before waking up was my limbs going numb and my vision going dark.”

“Damn.” Preston was stuck somewhere between horror and amazement.  “Did anyone else make it out with you?”

“No.”  Her answer was abrupt, eyes welling up visibly and he immediately felt bad for asking. “When I woke up, there were these people in weird lab coats and a man with this scar--” She traced a line with her little finger, vertically from her eyebrow down to her cheek-- “He opened up my husband’s chamber and took my baby.  Nate fought, but… they shot him.  After that, I think everyone else’s life support failed.  A whole damn town, and I’m the only one who survived.”

“I’m… so sorry.”  He didn’t know what else to say.  He knew how it felt, to be a sole survivor of a terrible tragedy, but he couldn’t bring up Quincy, even if it was just to show her he understood.  “If there’s anything I can do, or that the Minutemen can do…”

“I think the Minutemen have their own problems at the moment, hmm?”  She smirked, eyes twinkling with humor despite the tears.

Preston looked around and chuckled in exasperation. “Well, considering that I’m the only one left, I’d say yes. We have so many problems.  That doesn’t change the fact that I owe you.”

Charlie tilted her head back and finished off the rest of her stout, then looked decisively at Preston.  “You’re not the only one.”

“Pardon?”

“I never thought I’d get to say this in my lifetime, outside the context of some weird historical play, but... I’m joining the Minutemen.” She tossed her bottle to the ground. “I don’t have any survival skills, I couldn’t shoot dead fish in a barrell, and I’m a bit traumatized, but I figure it’s still better than nothing.”

“Are you serious?”  Preston could barely contain his excitement.  He didn’t care if he had to spend months teaching her how to shoot or get by in the Commonwealth.  He’d been without help for so long now, he would be glad to not be alone.

“I know it’s hard to believe that anyone could be that bad of a shot, but--”

“No, Charlie,” he interrupted, “Are you serious about joining up?”

Charlie grinned, playfully. “Hell yeah.”

“That’s... well.  Let’s just say that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

If Preston were a hugger, and if he’d known her longer than a few hours, he would have embraced the woman.  Maybe it wasn’t just the jet.  Maybe Mama Murphy was right all along.

[btscreatorscorner]

Project Summary: Travel with a few members of the team here at BCC as they sit around a bonfire and reminisce on the days of summer. We will tell you interesting stories about tales that may be a little exaggerated about the members of a group of 7 guys that we have come to love. 

Links to stories and edits will be added as they are posted!! We will reblog the stories and edits as well~ We hope you enjoy!

Seeing each other was honestly a dream. It felt surreal to be able to meet up and camp with so many people from an online network, and they were smiling and laughing as they talked in person (some for the first time ever). The lulling sounds of the ocean waves became a white noise to everyone as they set up their tents and gathered firewood. They were having so much fun talking together that time had passed quickly, evening fast approaching and the sun sinking into the horizon creating a sea of colors in the sky. The sight was truly breathtaking. 

Simi’s and Lillia’s eyes locked onto the waving group down the beach. “Welcome everyone,” Alexis smiled as she returned to the campsite after scoping out the beach. 

“Hey Alexis! How’s the beach look? Any shark teeth?” Lillia asked, returning to chopping onions in preparation for dinner.

"You say that like she'd know. Are we forgetting that she's the ‘blind’ one?" Simi replied, snickering at Alexis's squint.

From the small crowd gathering on the beach came a range of different accents. Some were easily pinpointed and others a little more difficult to locate. Lillia continued guiding everyone down to the beach, within the group was a small and rather tired Jester with a large bag. Situated at the bottom of her bag was some sort of rolled up bedding.

“Excuse me, sorry I’m late, airport customs tried to steal my Vegemite” Jester called, eyes gazing straight past Simi’s shoulder. With no hesitation she dropped her luggage in the sand, kicked off her shoes and sprinted towards the ocean.  

Halting mere inches from the water, she teetered, waving her hands and trying not to topple into the surf from her abrupt stop. 

“Almost jumped in with my phone and your American paper dollarydoos” she shouted, racing back to the group. 

Jester proceeded to empty out her pockets, dumping twenty and fifty dollar notes and her phone into her shoes and running full pelt back to the water. With a warrior cry, she dove into the ocean causing quite the splash before the water stilled ominously.  

There was no sign of her — had she disappeared? An alarming amount of time went by and the group shuffled nervously before she breached with all the elegance of a blue whale gasping and flopping onto her side. 

A few of the others joined Jester whooping as they splashed into the water, others set to tasks they thought were a little more pressing, like designating tents. 

With what little sun they had left, they had managed to hold a few fun activities and lots of conversations.

As the sun finally set the sweet cotton candy colors in the sky darkened and from its depths emerged twinkling lights, the mood changed along with it. Food was tossed on the grill, the inferno causing the aroma to fill the beach. Everyone’s mouth was watering, excited to finally dig in. 

Simi was trying to organize gluten-free buns on one side and regular on the other. “The veggie burgers have finished. I cooked them on their own so it’s all good. I’m about to cook the meat patties — last call for meat-free grilling” Lillia called to the group with a bright smile, expertly flipping the spatula in her hand and getting back to work when there were no complaints.

The large group slowly began making themselves plates of food and once everyone was situated, the group was silent for a brief moment before Alexis decided to strike up some conversation. 

“...I think that would be a great idea, don’t you guys think?” 

The sounds of wood crackling could be heard in the background. Sepha watched as the smoke turned into the black of the burning wood and then to the fire-y orange and undertones of red. It had only turned out that way when she watched as one of the women drizzled more fluid over the fire. 

Looking to her left, she saw a welcoming smile and couldn’t help but feel guilty for not hearing the rest of what had been said.

“Sorry?” Sepha asked, watching as the rest of the group surrounding the fire laughed at her in confusion. 

“What kind of scary stories are you into? You know… typical gory types or mystery, maybe romance—” Lillia repeated emphasizing the last genre. 

“Murder mysteries are the most interesting…” At this, Amunet smiled at Sepha’s response and she couldn’t help but return it. 

“I like romance! You know the ones where people just go camping to see the stars, and the moonlight and it just smells like chocolate and marshmallows.” All eyes followed the light voice which sounded across the fire, belonging to none other than Kyub. Gabi couldn’t help but share a hopeless shrug with Sepha, who poked at the fire with her long stick. 

The fire gave a loud crackle, “Sounds nice...but with this kind of night when there’s no moon and just the sound of nature around you — it kind of makes you want to tell scary stories for the fun of it.” Alexis seemed to agree to Sepha’s last sentiment and continued roasting the marshmallow. 

“You’re right, though. Just darkness and nature, makes me think of murder.” Bubbles started up again which only earned a dry chuckle from across the circle. 

Mae spoke up for the first time, saying “morbid, but sure, what the hell” as she fidgeted with her own stick, apparently inventing something the campers could only assume was a s’more kebab. She seemed to struggle immensely considering the graham crackers didn’t have any holes in them for her stick. But they all watched, intrigued, as Mae continued stacking: cracker, marshmallow, chocolate, cracker, marshmallow, chocolate, cracker—

“What are you doing?” This time, the voice came from just outside the circle, Amunet was returning from her tent wearing a thick navy blue pullover sweater. She was looking at Mae’s invention with an arch to her brow but otherwise unphased. 

“What does it look like?” retorted Mae,  gently waving the kebab around for everyone to see which earned a couple of laughs from everyone as a graham cracker broke off. Mae’s resulting cursing drew even more laughs. 

Lillia began to clap, “A’ight! Let’s start with some stories eh?” She looked around, giving everyone her signature friendly smile before settling on Sepha. “I think you should start some things off Seph, with you know, all that murder mystery enthusiasm you have.” 

“Huh?” She was caught off guard, looking to see everyone anticipating eyes had fallen upon her and when she looked around the waiting company, she could see Kyub giving a soft encouraging smile. The nervous laugh bubbled out of Sepha's lips before she could stop it, and with a scuff of her feet against the sandy ground she was ready. 

“I-um—you guys ever hear that phrase,” The cautionary pause gave Sepha time to think it over, “You ain’t Jiving man?” There was a quick shake of Bubbles’ head to her far left.

“I have no idea what that means.” Jester hummed stabbing at least twelve marshmallows with a long skewer-like-stick. Another culinary mad genius. 

“It’s from the 70s, all that slang shit. Supposed to mean: ‘Is that the truth?’ Or at least the equivalent to it.” That earned hums all around as Sepha licked her lips, wondering how to start off her story. Mae and Jester smiled encouragingly as Sepha shook her head to focus herself before diving in. 

“Well, that phrase kind of relates to this story...at least kind of...maybe...I don’t know,” Sepha watched as Mae grabbed at the remains of a broken graham cracker, her frustration obvious enough in the way she picked at the pieces but it only earned her a cheeky smile from Bubbles who was right next to her. “I’m sure you guys heard of the case of Ted Bundy right? You know, infamous serial killer.” 

“He was fucking insane and not even handsome. I don’t even know what girls saw in him during that time.” As she spoke, Jester’s face twisted like she had bitten into a lemon and all Sepha could do was nod in agreement. She watched the fire again, poking at it and watching the ash burn up to the surface. 

“Well...I’m gonna tell a survivor story. Her name was Carol DaRonch, one of Bundy’s survivors and—”

“We should call her Katie! For, you know, copyright reasons.” This time the voice belonged to Bubbles; it was soft but managed to grab everyone’s attention in time before they could all fully dive into the story. At her suggestion, Sepha nodded and chuckled, poking at the fire once more, sending an array of sparkle-like embers into the night sky. She quickly moved the toe of her boot just enough to not get any of the burnt ash on it. 

Sepha nodded vigorously again and continued.

“Yeah...yeah let’s call her Katie…” she licked her lips once more and looked up to see the dark depths of the night sky there wasn’t a cloud in sight. When the group stared at the fire they could almost hear the sound of Marvin Gaye. The campers could feel the heat wash over them, in a way that reflected the heat of Florida. 

“It was a college party...in the summer of 1974….” 

“Okay, well that was dark. Interesting, but dark. I like it.” Mae had shifted from her seat on a log onto the dirt beneath, slumping with her back against the bark lethargically. Others nodded in agreement.

“Shall we lighten the mood with a happier story?” Bubbles asked, lifting her hands to warm them above the lively fire. It was quiet for a second before Mae spoke up again.

“I have one.” She changed her posture to sit slightly straighter when all eyes were on her. “It’s about a couple that got turned into fairies while camping in the woods one summer night.”

“Is that a drug reference?” Lillia raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“No.” Mae frowned.

“Knowing you, ‘turning into fairies’ could mean anything.” Lillia shrugged, earning chuckles from the group. The fire crackled just as Mae sent a sharp glare at the woman, but her lips betrayed her as they began to curl upwards at the teasing.

“My story has nothing to do with drugs— but it does involve magic.” This caught the attention of the crowd. “Did you know that fairies occupy many wooded areas around the world? Yeah, they tend to hide from humans, but in desperate times they can use their powers to recruit our help, just as they did last summer. 

“It happened somewhere in the Rocky Mountains in August of last year…”

Those scattered around the fire were left captivated by the fantastical tail Mae had spun. They had even paused from their s’more-making escapades, each slowly contemplating the idea of fairies. Some eyed the surrounding area outside the camp, others picked up where they left off preparing more marshmallows for their delicious dessert endeavors. In amongst the slowly roasting marshmallows was one completely engorged in flames. 

“Uh, Jester your marshmallow is on fire?” 

“Yup, that’s how I like them” She grinned brightly with green eyes sparkling full of mischief as she blew out the fireball that had encased the blackened crispy confectionary that once resembled a marshmallow. She shoved it into her mouth and shouted “My turn!”

“I have a good one.” Jester’s sharp grin seemed to be hiding something. “Hold onto your hats, this one is from my trip to Greece. You must always be careful when you travel to another country because anything can happen.

“It started in Mykonos...”

“And that’s what happens when you meet strangers in another country. I should have learned from the first two times I went overseas” Jester shrugged “Wild stuff, though”

“Actually no” Gabi interjected, pointing her finger in a pause gesture while she collected her thoughts. 

“Nope” Kyub’s eyes were wide; she blinked, once, twice in disbelief. Before she shook her head as if trying to rattle the thoughts back into place.

“That’s famously not what happens when you meet strangers in another country” Gabi continued her thought with a small sound of concern. 

“Yeah, I’m with them — that is most definitely not what happens.” Sepha laughed as Jester looked up confused. “Most people don’t go home with strangers, though, so I guess you could be right.”

“I mean yeah, that one was my bad I guess” Jester laughed.

“Who’s next?” Amunet asked excitedly, wishing to listen to more of the nightly stories.

Kyub looked a little nervous but after taking a deep breath she was determined to unleash her summer tale by way of pictures on her phone. “Mine isn’t exactly a story, I have some photos that I took over the summer that I think really tell a story. It was in a cemetery” her voice was sweet and gentle. 

“We would love to see!” Alexis smiled reassuring the young girl. Everyone seemed intrigued by the idea of the photos and how they would tell the story.

“It’s up to interpretation...”

“That is amazing, how did that even happen?” 

“You know the saying, ‘a picture is worth one thousand words’ and you have two” Jester grinned “like he is keeping the flowers a secret or like the flowers are something he loves and cherishes but keeps hidden.” Other voices chimed in:

“It feels so sad.”

“It feels so jarring that the colour is stripped away.”

“I like to think the first image is kinda, like, wistful or reminiscing and then when he looks down it is the reality.”

The entire camp seemed hit with raw emotion. There was a collective look of disbelief and someone sighed “That is so well done.”

Everyone had finished their stories and games for the evening and numbers started dwindling as the late hour took the sleepy camp goer’s. They all were settling for the evening, tents and sleeping bags rustling in the background alongside the occasional giggle, whisper and yawn.

Rolling out the khaki green bedroll, was Jester looking small in the contrasting light from the fire and shadow from the night. 

“Jester, where are you sleeping, do you wanna share a tent?” Gabi asked, deciding to offer a shelter. 

“Nah, I got my swag, I’m gonna lay by the fire and watch the sky.” She laid back and squinted up at the stars. “You should visit my little corner of the world where the stars look like milk.”

Credits: Thank you @youarejesting for working on this masterlist and @kyub for doing the amazing banner! And thank you to all of our writers, editors and betas who worked hard on this project: @youarejesting , @kyub, @dead-starlight, @bubblebunnylia, @sweetnspicy93, @bussy-posts, @jiminniethemarshmallow​, @moccahobi​, @yourmoonchild1023​, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​, and @hesperantha​ for betaing the masterlist!!! 

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 20

"Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you acting on your best behavior Turn your back on mother nature Everybody wants to rule the world

It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world"

Tears For Fears – "Everybody Wants to Rule The World"

Erik watched Maria down a shot of tequila and squeeze a sliced lime into her mouth. He sipped on a glass of ginger beer and watched the festivities aboard Le Sirene, Stark's 456-foot-long custom-built yacht. Scalloped sides, silver and turquoise accents and large glass facades gave panoramic views inside the interior. Sailing off the coast of Malibu, the balmy air and fresh smell of seawater relaxed Erik.

Stark spared no expense to wine and dine the interns. Everyone around Erik were in various states of good humor, ecstatic thoughts of the future, and varying degrees of sobriety.

Athena accepted a job with a completely different company in Paris.

Giselle would start a mid-level position in Stark's New York offices.

Valentina accepted a generous package with Stark in Los Angeles under the thumb of Janine.

And Maria…she had two top Stark Industries choices. Stay in Los Angeles with Valentina, or take an opportunity to work for Stark in D.C.

Only fifteen percent of the interns were offered jobs with Stark. The fact that all off his female friends received the careers they worked so hard for pleased Erik to no end. He was also looking forward to being right next to Tony. As soon as Happy from security gave him his new clearance, Erik had access to offices and buildings within the Stark sphere of influence.

Once he was removed from the interns, Erik spent two weeks shadowing Pepper Potts. She informed him that she would guide his transition into more of a junior assistant role. Erik liked Pepper's directness. She wasn't a fun person to hang around. Her tight lips and tight ass personality hid a core rooted in needing to keep the world around her extremely organized. Erik recognized the signs of obsessive behavior. He had it too.

Pepper was easy to read and she seemed to be irritated with Erik's relaxed stance around Stark. She dug into him during a lunch meeting the two of them shared.

"You need to be the one to keep Tony grounded. He's really just a big kid in a candy store and even though he is brilliant, he is also very brash. Impulsive. The key to doing the job right is to keep the riff-raff away from him and make sure he stays focused on the task at hand. He doesn't need another sycophant. Everyone wants a piece of him, so don't be afraid to be rude or abrupt. You and I will be in direct contact and I will be in charge of your itinerary with Stark daily. Any changes that need to be made go through me first."

Pepper always regarded him with a bit of detachment and triple-checked his work often. After two weeks of realizing that Erik was more than capable of handling Tony as her junior, she let up a bit. Just a tiny bit. Erik had to adjust to how he would stomach those other looks she gave him. Looks that always made it seem like she pondered how he was in Tony's orbit. This Black kid with the genius I.Q. and Oakland attitude. So many overly pedigreed interns and Stark chose Erik above all of them. A guy not even out of his teens yet.

Erik also learned another little tidbit about Pepper.

She was annoyed with Devika.

Maybe not annoyed…more like jealous.

The two women maneuvered around each other professionally. But more than once, Erik caught Pepper giving Devika catty looks when she was in Stark's inner office. This piqued Erik's curiosity even more, making him want to know what type of relationship Devika really had with Tony. It made Erik's stomach hurt sometimes to think that his boss had been with his girl in that way.

His girl.

Erik's eyes swept over to the open bar on the yacht's third deck as Devika picked up a champagne flute and tipped the glass against one of the female interns next to her. Prior to coming on board the luxury boat, Erik spent the afternoon with Devika at a café looking for an apartment for him. A basic one-bedroom in a decent neighborhood close to work was averaging three thousand a month.

Money wasn't a problem. Stark made good and gifted Erik with a hefty players fee from the poker game. Erik sent portions of his winnings to his relatives and banked the rest. He could afford a fancy apartment or even a condo himself if he wanted. But spending the night with Devika made him want one thing: to be with her.

He whined to her about having to spend a grip of money in a hotel and hinted that he would look for a roommate situation to ease him into a new living situation. He already had his belongings in her apartment and they were now sharing a bed. He wanted to stay with her during his fellowship. But she was concerned about Tony finding out about them. He was too chickenshit to ask outright if he could live with her hoping she would suggest the idea herself. She didn't.

Erik watched Pepper approach Devika and as the two women spoke to one another, he moved to the other side searching for the man himself. Jazzy tunes were piped in throughout the yacht and Erik tried to go where he last saw Tony.

A wet kiss on his cheek caught him off guard and Giselle's face came into view as she slid around him.

"You're real quiet tonight. Everything okay?" she asked.

"I'm good. Just looking for Boss Man."

"I never got a chance to properly congratulate you on your fellowship. Stark was right about you. From Day One. You were the man to beat."

"You haven't done so bad yourself."

"New York, baby!" Giselle squealed. She closed her eyes and did a little happy dance, "They loved my work with the Expo and I was a good fit for his team out there. I am over the fucking moon. I am going to kill out there."

Her eyes glinted with endless possibilities and Erik caught a glimpse of Tony walking toward him.

"Stevens."

Giselle slipped away from him to join a raucous group dancing in an open space. Tony handed Erik a glass of champagne.

"You missed my grand going away speech," Tony said.

"No, I heard it. I was just up here. Taking it all in."

"This is just one of the many perks of doing what I do. Showing appreciation for everyone giving their best."

"Do you ever get bored with it? I mean, all this," Erik said glancing around at the grandeur and all the decadence.

"Not really. When I was younger, I used to get bored…not with the money, but with the same packs of roving cliques. Money is never boring. Rich people? Yes. Money? Never. I just learned how to spend my money well and surround myself with interesting characters."

Erik drank from his glass and Tony moved closer to him.

"Pepper says you are ready for the big leagues. It's going to be quite a shift from being an intern."

"I can handle it."

Erik followed Tony around the ship, and as the night progressed, he longed to be alone with Devika and just watch a corny movie. She flitted around, and the yearning grew in his heart. It was a new feeling for him. Wanting a one on one. Athena and Giselle were open to him having a goodbye tryst with them, but he wasn't interested, and that shocked him. Turning down exceptional pussy? An abomination in his previous life, but now…

The black sheath dress Devika wore shimmered with tiny crystals at the hem. And she wore the heels that he loved fucking her in. Her hair was tucked into a loose bun on her head and she decorated her forehead with three dark green bindis. He followed her to the starboard side of the yacht and her eyes looked startled to see him come upon her as she stared at the dark water below them.

"Hey," he said, allowing his shoulder to bump into hers.

"Hi."

"You look nice."

"Thanks," she said. Her eyes darted behind him to make sure they weren't being watched.

"I'm on my best behavior, don't trip," he said giving up a bit of space between them.

"I needed a little break from the action," she whispered, folding her hands on the railing she leaned on.

"Pepper and you have been chatty Cathy's."

Devika's eyes narrowed at the sound of Pepper's name.

"Devika, be honest with me. Did you and Tony-?"

"No."

Her tone was curt. But her eyes were soft.

"I didn't cross the line with him. Not all the way. I was…I was really young when I took this job. I was also really good at it. Tony took a shine to me, but it was just an excellent working relationship in the beginning. But shit happens. Late hours. Last-minute trips to exotic places. Billionaire crowd. Working for him is both surreal and astounding at times. The people that he has on speed dial? You would be shocked at who I have called up out of the blue for him."

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I had a huge crush on him and he has always been attracted to me. We've had dinners together that had nothing to do with work. There have been times when I could've allowed us to cross the line, and I didn't. Then I met my fiancé and my life changed. Pepper is in love with Tony, and she hates that he still feels something for me even though there is nothing between us."

She turned and looked at Erik.

"I had an emotional connection to Tony and I ended it for the sake of my career. My dignity too, I guess. I look at Tony as a boss and a friend. Pepper hasn't found a balance for her feelings, and we sometimes butt heads."

"Does he still want something with you?"

"I don't think so. He was happy when I first got engaged. Maybe it was a relief for him."

"Does he feel anything for Pepper?"

"I don't think so. She treats him like a child. It annoys him a lot. I think it's why he blows her off a lot. But she is good at what she does so he puts up with her scolding. What's it like for you working with her?"

Erik looked out at the water and gripped the railing with his hands.

"Annoying as fuck. But I'm used to people like her. She doesn't like that I'm not invested in the gig as much as she thinks I should be."

"If you're not invested, why do it? You should go to M.I.T."

Her words made his chest hurt.

"You don't want me around?"

"This has nothing to do with me. God, I hope you didn't take the job just to be around me."

She laughed but then stopped when his face stayed neutral.

"Erik, seriously, you took the job for your future career, right?"

"I have a lot of reasons to take it. You were part of it too."

"Oh…Erik…"

Her eyes dropped away from his.

"Devika…"

"You have to make life choices that benefit you and your dreams."

"I'm still figuring that out, but you're a big perk."

She reached out and rubbed his arm.

"You are so sweet."

"I'm not trying to be sweet, Devika. I'm tryna be your man."

The words not only shocked her, but they made him tumble back from the railing. The champagne had him loose-lipped. Too loose.

Her eyes regarded him with quiet understanding.

"So sweet," she said.

He watched her lean away from him as if she were leaving him. He grabbed for her hand and pulled her toward him.

"You heard what I said, right?" he asked.

"I did."

"You like me, right?"

"I do."

"I wanna be with you. Not just friends."

"We should slow down."

"What?"

His neck tilted to the side.

Hours earlier they had been in her bed and she had whispered crazy things in his ear that made him feel invincible and so grown up. Was she playing him for good dick?

Two weeks of sharing her home together, making him feel like they were a legit couple, and she was standing there telling him they should slow down. He tasted sour spit in his mouth and the muscles in his stomach felt tight.

"You need to focus all your energy on being the best you in your new position. Don't get caught up with me and lose track of your future."

"Caught up?"

He could barely get the words out of his throat. Her words sounded like she was patting him on his head like he was a cute puppy that she no longer wanted to play with. He felt his lower lip tremble and he stepped further away from her.

"Erik…"

"I gotta get back to Stark. I'll see you later."

He felt a little wobbly as he searched for Tony. Once he found him, he stayed by the man's side and finished the evening on his motorcycle by the pier the yacht was docked at. Instead of returning to Devika's condo, he took a room at a Hilton hotel and drank up the liquor inside the minibar.

His cell phone rang and when he checked it, Devika left several messages for him. He called her back at three in the morning after a good hour of sleep.

"Where are you?"

"A hotel. West Hollywood."

"Why?"

"Why? You told me not to get caught up—"

"Erik, you know what I meant."

"I heard what you said."

"Come back here."

"Why should I?"

"Let's talk—"

"We're talking now—"

"Get over here."

"Why?"

"I want you here. Your stuff is here."

"I'll get my stuff later."

"What I said to you earlier…I wasn't trying to be mean. I was being honest with you."

"I don't want to slow down."

He could hear an exasperated sigh in her voice.

"Erik, I'm trying to make you see what I wish someone had told me when I was younger. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I want to be with you. We get along. You know that. Tony won't find out about us—"

"We need to talk in person—"

"It's late. I'll come over when I check out."

He hung up.

Lying on the hotel bed nude, he stared at the walls.

An hour ticked by.

"Fuck."

He jumped up and put back on his silk shirt and slacks. Throwing on his dark biker's jacket and helmet, he hopped on his motorcycle and roared out of the hotel parking lot.

The highway was quiet as the sky lightened. When he reached Devika's condo, the pink and orange morning glow made him feel easier in the chest.

She answered the door after his third knock dressed in one of his sweatshirts and nothing else.

"Let's talk," he said.

She nodded and he leaned forward to kiss her lips. Her mouth was eager to have his and they took their time with slow drawn out smooching in the doorway. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Suckling his tongue, Devika made him feel that what he needed most was for her to be in his corner. He held onto her ass cheeks to keep her pressed against him, and when she finally released his lips, he had her panting. He slipped a finger down her ass and let it rest against the cotton of her underwear. He could feel how damp she was, her slick saturating the panties. He rested his forehead on hers.

"Tell me your mine," he whispered.

She traced the fingers of her right hand across the back of his scalp sending tingles up his back. His lips touched her lips again and he looked into her eyes.

"Tell me," he demanded.

He walked into her condo with her still wrapped around him and kicked the door closed.

"I'm your man. Say it."

The bass in his voice made her eyes widen. He sent his fingers down into her panties and stroked her swollen vulva.

"Devika, say it…."

He unfastened his pants and pulled them down with his underwear.

"Devika."

Sliding her sticky panties to the side, Erik lifted her up and guided his dick inside of her. She whimpered as he fucked her standing up, her face pressed against his face, her arms laced around his neck.

The squelching sounds coming from her pussy made Erik give her hard strokes as he lifted her up and down his stiffness. She still wouldn't answer him and just gave his ears thrilling moans and yelps from the pleasure he gave her.

His calves began to strain from standing in one place and holding her weight so he spun around and jammed her up against the door. Pressing her into the solid wood, he drilled into her hard and fast, his aggression needing release. She refused to give him what he wanted and it aggravated him.

"Devika…"

"Erik!" she screamed.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and he felt her pussy contract up and down his dick. He reached up and grabbed her throat, his fingers squeezing and pushing her head back. The throbbing in his dick made his back hunch up.

"I want you!" he shouted releasing into her, his head dropping onto her chest as his legs trembled.

He groaned when he felt another sudden wave of semen spurt into her and it made him drop her down to her feet. He faced her with wrinkled clothes and semen still dripping from his tip. He kicked his feet out of his pants and Devika took his right hand and led him to her bedroom.

They made love until Erik was too exhausted to do anything more than stroke her hair as he held her in his arms.

The unspoken was made manifest.

He was going to live with her and she let be known by her loving that she belonged to him.

The world at that moment was his.

Chapter 21 HERE.

###

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[holidaywishes]

Embers XI

Chapter XI: we’re gonna make it

  Summary of series: Katie moves from Peachtree, Georgia, to L.A. with her son, Alex, to start fresh after the death of her husband. When she meets Evan Buckley, a young firefighter, she falls fast but will her son be so quick to accept Evan into his life?

  Summary of chapter: As she tries to keep both her and her son alive, Katie begins to learn more about Jeff. Evan begins to panic when he finds Katie’s phone in her bedroom.

  Warning: Trigger warning for abuse/kidnapping, language, angst and fear

  Author’s Note: Alright... so I went back and fixed all the errors in the other chapters and it was a weird process. I’ve never made so many mistakes in any kind of writing before and I am so so sorry that it was so confusing. It was pretty confusing to me so I can imagine it was for you as well. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you keep reading the rest of the series!

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

Evan’s P.O.V

  You kept texting and calling Katie but there was no answer. She couldn’t have been that mad at you, especially after that voicemail she left you

  “Evan, I’m.. I need to talk to you. Please call me back.” You listened to the message again, examining it closer to listen to the tone of her voice. Deciding to call her again, hoping that she would answer you

  “Katie, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m starting to worry, call me.” You sighed before sending another stream of texts but still no response, choosing then to call her mom, “Leny, have you heard from Katie? She’s not answering me...”

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” she replied, “I talked to her yesterday but she did say she would come to the Veteran’s Fund Bake Sale this weekend”

  “How did she sound? When you talked to her?”

  “She was a little upset,” she confessed before her tone shifted to fear, “Evan, what’s going on?”

  “I’m sure everything is fine, Leny, I’m just having a hard time getting a hold of her. I’ll get her to call you when I talk to her okay?”

  “You’re starting to worry me. Did you not talk to her yesterday? She said she tried calling you”

  “She did,” you sighed, “I was working all day so I didn’t have a chance to call her back until the end of the night.” After a few more worried words from Helena, you ended the call and got into your car, rushing to Katie’s house, “Mads, have you heard from Katie at all?” you asked your sister as you swerved through the L.A. streets

  “Yeah, I talked to her yesterday. She was wondering if you were ignoring her all day. It was a pretty abrupt call, she was upset but she seemed... frantic”

  “When did you talk to her yesterday?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, picking up on your panic that then found its way onto her tone, “it was pretty late. Maybe like 10?”

  “I texted her at midnight but she never answered me...” you added

  “Do you think something’s wrong?” she asked, “where’s Alex?”

  “I’m heading over to her place now... If she’s not there, I’ll head to Alex’s school -- he should be there. She would’ve dropped him off, her mom hasn’t talked to her yet today so she wouldn’t have picked up Alex.”

  “Let me know, okay?” she urged and you agreed before hanging up. When you got to Katie’s house, things were eerily perfect. No one was home but there was also no mess -- Alex’s toys were put away, there were no dishes, no dirty dish towels like there usually were and everything was quiet -- like someone had cleaned up a crime scene. You started running through the rooms to try to find some sign that everything was fine, that something terrible didn’t happen, when you heard the familiar ring come from Katie’s room. You looked on her screen to find all the messages you had sent her and the failed attempts that her mom had tried as well.

  “Shit” you growled to yourself before running back out to your car to drive to the school, when the school said Alex hadn’t checked in that day, you drove to Nick’s house

  “YO! FIREMAN, WHERE’S THE FIRE?” he joked but his face dropped when he saw your scowl, “what’s up, Evan?”

  “Have you talked to Katie or Alex today?” you said

  “No..” you let out a sigh before looking behind him, noticing Big Jeff wasn’t lurking around like he usually was

  “Where’s your bodyguard?” you snarled

  “Jeff called in sick this morning. I wasn’t going anywhere so I said it was fine...” he furrowed his brow as you ran back to your car, “what’s going on?!” he yelled to you but you were so focused that you didn’t reply. You called in a missing person for Katie and Alex, urging them to put out an AMBER alert immediately, before you frantically searched around the city.

  “They’re missing” you said to Maddie

  “What?” she said

  “They’re not at home and Alex never showed up at school. He didn’t check in or out. No one has talked to them or seen them”

  “What about her client? That kid, Nick?”

  “I was just there. Maddie, I think his bodyguard took them...”

  “You don’t know that” she tried

  “Nick said he called in sick and Big Jeff was always looking at Katie like he owned her...”

  “Even if he does have them,” she said calmly, “she’s tough. And she’s not just fighting for herself, she’s fighting for Alex, too.”

  “I know...” you sighed. It was exactly you were afraid of, knowing that she’d fight to save Alex before she fought to save herself meant that there was a chance neither of them would make it out alive.

xx

Katie’s P.O.V

  You woke up in a dark room with your hands tied behind your back and you searched the room for Alex, trying to be as quiet as you could

  “Alex, baby,” you whispered to your son as he whimpered beside you, “baby, listen to me. I need you to look at me”

  “Mommy, I’m scared” he sobbed, lobbing his head onto your shoulder

  “I know baby but we’re gonna be okay”

  “I wanna go home”

  “Me too, sweetheart, me too.” You kissed the crown of his head before resting your head against his, letting loose a tear that you’d been trying to hold back since Jeff forced you into his car. You looked around the room to see if you could find any light or any clue where you were but there was nothing; The ground was cold so you assumed it was concrete but you couldn’t tell how big or small the room was. When a light suddenly shot on, your heart pounded in your chest and you moved in front of Alex

  “Who’s hungry?” he asked, earning a scowl from you before he turned on a light, exposing the box of a room you were in

  “Why are we here?” you sneered

  “So I can keep you safe...”

  “Keep us safe?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly, leaning in front of you and pushing your hair behind your ear, you backed away from his touch, “the way Jesse would have wanted”

  “You didn’t even know him!”

  “Didn’t I?” he asked and you furrowed your brow, “he had dark hair, almost black but not quite. He was born in Atlanta but moved to Peachtree when he was just 2 months old so it was always home to him. He met a slew of girls over the years who all fell head over heels for him but he never thought anything of them until you. The girl who looked into his soul with only a glance. He would talk about the way your hair danced in the sun and the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. You were the one that changed everything for him. It was like you were there with us, I could almost picture you right in front of me while he was explaining you to the squad. But then he showed us your picture, before Alex was born, and we all saw what he saw...” He smiled an almost menacingly smile, forcing a feeling of anger boil up inside you, “then... you had Alex and he was more in love with that boy than he ever was with you. It was the darnedest thing, how such a strong man like Jesse could turn into jelly because of such a small, meek little thing”

  “Don’t.” you stopped him from touching Alex, “you dare touch him”

  “Feisty.” He smirked before standing up to walk over to what looked like a lawn chair, “he said you were like that. Said that’s what he loved about you the most. But the war... that place, it broke him. He had to come back because he had to fix himself, that’s what he said, he said he needed to get better for you and Alex and that being a SEAL would fix him; it would make him better.” He leaned his forearms on his knees so you could get a clear look at his face, “when he felt like his time had come, he asked me to look after you. To take care of you and Alex. To keep you both safe.”

  “You’re lying!” you yelled, “why did I never hear about you? He told me about everyone in his unit, they came to his funeral. I met them. You weren’t there”

  “I was,” he countered, “I was in the back. I left early, Jesse’s wishes. See, he knew you’d never agree to having a bodyguard of your own, so if I was going to keep you safe, I’d have to do it from a distance.” You shook your head in disbelief

  “So you followed me? All the way to L.A.? You stalked me from Georgia?”

  “I told you,” he sneered, anger rising on his tongue, “I had to keep you safe!”

  “Evan was right about you,” you scoffed, “I never liked the way you were around me much either but he knew, he figured you out that first time he met you. And you knew that he knew that’s why you didn’t like him”

  “HE’S NOT GOOD FOR YOU!” he yelled, “he’s going to hurt you. He already did. He left you that night. I watched him leave. You were all alone in that cab when he could’ve been with you. Jesse never would’ve left you like that. He would’ve insisted that you go home with him to fight about whatever you needed to fight about but he never would’ve left you alone.” He continued, moving down to his knees and clutching your face in his hands, “I never would’ve left you alone... I needed to show you.. prove to you how dangerous it is for you to be alone. Without Jesse. Without me.”

  “Stop it” you whispered

  “We’re going to make this work.” He picked you up forcefully, leaving Alex behind, while you frantically flailed in his arms

  “LET GO OF ME!” you screamed

  “BE QUIET!” he shouted, “He’ll be fine.”

  “Please don’t hurt him, please don’t hurt him, I’ll do whatever you want but please don’t hurt my baby. Let him go.” You pleaded, bargaining with your entire might, “you can have me, do whatever you want with me, but let him go. Please, he doesn’t deserve any of this”

  “And leave him without a mother?” he questioned as he finally placed you on a mattress in a pale blue room that looked too familiar to ignore, “no if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done that already. No no, I’m not going to hurt either of you. We’re going to start over, here. Like it was supposed to be.”

  “I don’t understand” you said, looking around at all the details of the room when it finally hit you. He’s recreating your house in Peachtree

  “You recognize it don’t you?” he smiled, “I saw pictures and did the best I could. Of course, there’s things I couldn’t get. But the wall colour is the same, the sheets are the same, the quilt was hand made to look like the one your Oma had made you. There’s pictures,” he pointed at the dresser to the frames that held Photoshopped images of him with you and Alex. Images that used to have Jesse in them, “on the dresser that’s the exact same as you had. I bought it off the lady who bought your house. She said she had no use for it, it was too old fashioned she said...”

  “Wh--” you stuttered before he brought out a black bag, opening it to grab chains, “no no no no no, please don’t!”

  “It’s only for a little while I promise,” he said, holding your arms tightly so he could put the shackle on your wrist, “it will only hurt if you struggle. But look it’s not even tight!” Once he put the rest of the shackles on your other wrist and your ankles, he walked out of the room, leaving the door open and you could hear him making his way back to the basement. You tried to fight your way out of the chains but there was no use, the bedposts were too far apart and the metal was too strong. You looked into the hallway, noticing the room that was made to look like Alex’s old room, right down to the T-Rex wallpaper, when Jeff walked through with your son in his arms

  “ALEX!” you called to your son, who cried out for you, “BABY! I’M HERE, MOMMY’S RIGHT HERE!”

  “MOMMY!” he cried once more. You finally let the tears fall down your cheek when you heard the fear in your sons voice, praying that you would see him soon.

  “Alright,” Jeff said when he finally walked back into the room he’d made for you, sitting at the edge of the bed beside you, “I have to go make an appearance with Nick. I’ll be back before dinner and then we can all sit down and talk about our days, okay?”

  “You won’t get away with this,” you challenged, eyes burning with tears of anger now, “Evan will find us. We’ll get away from you.”

  “See you in a bit.” Once you heard the front door shut, you called out to Alex

  “Mommy when can we go home?” he asked

  “I don’t know, sweetie,” you confessed, “but listen, I need you to be a brave boy for me okay? I need you to go along with what happens tonight, okay? He won’t hurt you, I promise. I won’t let him.”

  “Are you hurt, mommy?” he asked and your heart just about broke at his words

  “No sweetheart,” you tried to contain your sobs, “I’m okay. Are you hurt?”

  “I’m hungry” he replied and you laughed to yourself

  “We’ll eat soon.” And now all you could do was wait. Wait for Jeff to come back, wait for him to fall asleep, wait for him to wake up and do it all again. Wait for him to, hopefully, realize how crazy this all was and let you both go. Wait. Just wait.

xx

Evan’s P.O.V

  “It’s been three days!” You shouted at the Detective who was working on Katie’s case, “and you’re not any closer to finding them! You know the odds of finding a child alive after 24 hours! You should be working harder!”

  “Buck, Buck!” Athena pleaded, “listen to me, you need to calm down”

  “They-”

  “They’re doing the best they can with what they have to go on” she tried

  “’Thena, you know the odds as well, better than I do. Alex could be--”

  “He won’t be,” she interrupted you, “I know the odds. But that’s when the child is alone. Alex has Katie and there is no way that girl is going to let her son die, no Sir.”

  “What if she couldn’t stop it?” you asked, “if he died that first night, she would’ve just given up and you know it.”

  “They’re both still alive. Trust me, they’re tough.” You could tell that Athena was keeping something from you but trying to decide if she should tell you

  “What is it?” you asked, “what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Before they disappeared, Katie came to talk to me. About that night at the bar. She couldn’t place a lot of the night after you left.”

  “She was drunk?” you said, confused

  “She didn’t drink enough to black out, Buck,” she added, “she said she could feel hands and breath on her when no one was around.”

  “I don’t...” it took you a second to fully understand what she was trying to say, “are you saying she was...”

  “She wasn’t sure, so neither of us could be certain,” she admitted, “but yes. From the way she spoke, I think it was pretty clear that she was.”

  “Buck,” Bobby interjected, seeing the fear and anger build on your face, “come on, let’s go. Let these guys take care of what they need to take care of, okay?”

  “I can’t just not look for her, Bobby”

  “You need to take a step back from this. This isn’t like Maddie,” he urged, “you don’t have any idea where this guy could’ve taken her. Nick said that Jeff always just drives him around in his cars so he’s never seen Jeff’s personal vehicle. We don’t know what to look for so it’s gonna take a little longer...”

  “Cameras...” you tried but Bobby shook his head

  “Let’s go.” He repeated, leading you to his car and driving the two of you around the city, which you assumed was a tactic to clear your head

  “Look, Cap,” you started, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I can’t ride around town with you. I need to look for her”

  “Okay,” he said calmly and you scoffed in surprise, “where do you suggest we start? You tried the school and her work. You went to her house and you talked to her mom all on that first day. Then you called in a missing persons and put out an AMBER alert. You did everything you’re supposed to do, so what do you suggest now?”

  “I..” you stuttered

  “Should we just knock on every door in L.A. County?” he continued, “who’s to say he hasn’t taken her across State lines?” You couldn’t think of what to say, he was right, you had no idea where to start, you just needed to find them. The car was suddenly quiet until your phone rang

  “Hello?” you greeted frantically

  “Buck?” Nick said from the other end of the line, “yeah, I just thought I’d call to check in. Have you heard anything?”

  “No, nothing yet”

  “So that information didn’t help?” he asked and you sat up in your seat

  “What information?” you asked

  “The information about Jeff. From a few days ago?”

  “Nick, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you see Jeff?”

  “Fuck, did nobody call you?” he sighed, “Fuck! Jeff came by that day that you came to my house. Like six hours after or something, after the alert had gone out. He called in sick that day so I was confused as to why he was there. I had a bunch of people here and I asked if he’d seen what was going on”

  “You told him about the AMBER alert?”

  “Not really. I just asked if he’d been watching the news. He said no, I dropped it and asked why he called in sick that day and he said he got really sick that morning -- puking and shit -- so he thought he had the flu but when he got better, he felt like he should come in to check on me.”

  “NICK!” you shouted to get him to focus, putting him on speaker so Bobby could hear, “what information were you supposed to give us?”

  “His car, man,” he finally said, “I’ve never seen it before but it looked like an old car, like a Mustang or something. One of those Classic cars but completely restored. It was black, with chrome detailing. I would say like a ‘65 or ‘67, it had those circle headlights like those old Mustangs used to have...”

  “Thanks, Nick,” you said, nodding to Bobby who was already calling Athena, “and next time. Tell someone yourself okay?”

  “Noted.” He said before you ended the call, letting out a small sigh of relief

  “This is something right? A lead?”

  “Looks like it kid” Bobby smiled 

  “That kid, I swear to god”

  “It was an honest mistake”

  “Yeah an honest mistake that cost us three days...”

  “They’re fine, Buck, they’re gonna be okay.”

xx

Katie’s P.O.V

  Jeff would come and go as he pleased but he’d always curl up next you in bed after unshackling your wrists and ankles -- it was the only way he could spoon you -- and you watched carefully where he put the key on the slim chance that you were able to sneak out from under him and get to Alex. That day never came, every time you tried, he’d shift and your arms would be pinned to your chest, so you’d wait and hope and wish and do it all over again. You would imagine getting out and taking Alex as you both ran back home but then Jeff would whisper in your ear

  “This is exactly how it should be” he’d say and you’d shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin

  “I forgot what the sun feels like” you croaked out one day

  “What?” he replied

  “I think we should have a picnic,” you added, “the three of us. I think it would be lovely. Don’t you? Just our little family, sitting under the sun...”

  “It sounds perfect”

  “So we can do it?” you asked eagerly

  “Let me set something up in the backyard.” He quickly got up and you could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen before kicking open a door. You turned on your back, your wrists and ankles free for the first time since you got there, and you could taste your freedom. You could see it, it was so close. So you tried to run to Alex but you hadn’t walked on your own in days, it was if your legs had forgot how to work, “oh no, what happened?” Jeff cried when he found you lying on the ground

  “I turned the wrong way,” you lied, trying to push yourself up, “I fell...” He helped you up, putting his arm around your waist and draping your arm across his shoulders while you walked toward where Alex was sleeping

  “Let’s go get our boy.” He smiled before greeting your son, who looked as though he’d been starved

  “Baby, we’re going outside,” you said with a raspy voice, “isn’t that great?”

  “Mommy...” he whispered before Jeff took him away from the chains that were strapped to his wrists and ankles, as they usually were on you. You took his hand in yours as Jeff helped you out to the back porch.

  “It’s so bright,” you groaned, “I forgot how bright the sun could be. But it feels so nice on my skin, doesn’t it Alex?” he nodded at you as you both sat down, Jeff sitting across from the two of you and smiling to himself

  “This was a lovely idea.” He added all the while not taking his eyes away from either of you. You hoped you could find some way out, some quick escape route, that you could somehow convince him to do this again another day once you’d found that route but, with him staring at you so intently, you feared he would know what you were planning, so you smiled at him just sweet enough to get him to look down, “can’t you just imagine another little one running around? A little girl?” You looked quickly at Alex as you keep Jeff distracted, “wouldn’t you like to try for a little girl?” You knocked down a glass, forcing a groan from him and he huffed as he went back inside to grab a towel to clean it up.

  “Come on baby, quickly.” You whispered to Alex, who grabbed your hand and followed you down the staircase toward the gate. Your legs were still wobbly, so you moved slowly but you managed to hide the two of you at the side of the fence once you were through the gate, keeping your hand over Alex’s mouth so Jeff wouldn’t hear, “we have to be quiet baby okay. We’re gonna be okay, just have to be quiet...”

  “Alright..” you heard Jeff laugh, “where’d you two go? I don’t like playing games like this...” You leaned your head against the wall while you waited for him to go back inside

  “Quietly, sweetheart,” you whispered, “we’re gonna go to the road okay? But very very quiet, understand?” he nodded and you both crept through the front yard, stopping every once in a while to make sure he wasn’t around. When you didn’t see him, you decided it was as good a time as any to make a run for it

  “YOU BITCH!” you heard Jeff yell

  “GO BABY, RUN!” you called to Alex, hoping he’d listen to you

  “MOMMY!” he cried

  “RUN!”

  “Get back here, right now!” he shouted, marching toward you when you fell suddenly very aware that you were surrounded by nothing but trees and you could barely walk

  “GO ALEX! DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME, I’LL BE FINE!” Jeff picked you up by your hair and dragged you through the yard, “no no no no, please, stop, leave him alone!” you screamed as he made his way to Alex who had stopped to make sure you were okay, “STOP IT! ALEX BABY GO! PLEASE!” But Jeff made it to him first and dragged both of you back into the house, forcing you to watch as he shackled your son tightly back onto the bed before pushing you into the bedroom

  “You shouldn’t have done that...” he sneered

  “WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET US GO? WE’VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU’VE ASKED!” you shouted

  “DON’T YOU DARE TALK BACK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOU CONNIVING LITTLE CUNT!” The back of his hand whipped across your face so hard, you fell back onto the bed, “I’ve given you everything! Done everything for you and you have the nerve to argue with me?! To run away from me? Why would you do that?”

  “Please...” you begged him to stop

  “Now, look at all of this blood...” he sighed, “we’re gonna have to get you into new pajamas.” He stripped you of your clothes while you wiped the blood from your mouth, finally noticing the red stains on the white fabric that he’d torn from your body. He forcefully began dressing you into a fresh set of PJ’s before pushing you onto the mattress, putting the shackles back onto your wrists and ankles. You knew you should probably apologize, that it would make things easier and safer for both of you, but you couldn’t. You were too angry and too exhausted, so you scowled as tears crept down your face, Jeff rubbing his forehead with his hands, “get some sleep, Katerina.” He turned the lights off and slammed the door shut while you struggled in the chains but they were tighter this time and you could feel the shackles tearing your skin.

  “Mommy?” Alex whispered through the vent that the two of you had discovered you could communicate through around the third day you were there

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” you sighed, “I thought he wouldn’t catch you. I’m so sorry” you whimpered as you held back your tears

  “Do you think we’ll ever go back home?”

  “Of course baby, we’ll make it. We’re gonna make it.” You squeezed your eyes tightly as you tried to calm him, “hey do you remember that story that Oma used to tell you when you couldn’t sleep?”

  “About the brothers and the dragons?”

  “Yes. The Four Clever Brothers... Do you remember what they had to learn?”

  “Their crafts! One was a thief, one was a hunter, one knew the stars and the other...” he hesitated

  “Was a tailor.” you chuckled softly, “the four brothers had to save a princess from a dragon after it takes her away from the village. But they don’t know if they have the right skills.”

  “But they did!” he exclaimed

  “That’s right,” you smiled, “together. Each had their own skill that, alone, would’ve killed the princess but together they were able to save her and bring her back to the King safely. That’s us, baby.”

  “It is?”

  “We will get out of this together because we are strong. Stronger together than apart okay? I won’t leave you, I promise. No matter what happens, we’re gonna make it together.”

[queerchoicesblog]

Broken Dreams

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in the City of Lights - & Love - at the time of the Belle Epoque, at the turn of the century.

The story of Élodie and Léa continues a bit later than usual but here we are!

Next and final chapter of this story will be out next week: stay tuned for the finale!

Tagging: @scottishqueer​

Previous chapters: Paris, Paris ; One Night At The Moulin Rouge , The Handkerchief, The Cage of Fools,  La Vie Bohème

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

_______________________________

The morning after, I arrive home early. When I left the apartment, Élodie was still sleeping, wrapped in a shawl. I enter my room like a ghost, I take off my favourite dress, so carefully picked last night, and let myself fall to the bed like a dead body, feeling empty and heavy at the same time. I close my eyes and doze off for an hour or two, I cannot tell. I am awaken by the voice of Marie in the other room. My friend is back. I sigh and stand, joining her and my roommates in the kitchen after putting on my robe. When she sees me, her smile is soon replaced by a concerned expression: I don't look well, am I feeling alright? No, actually not really, no. I feel sick and hurt and tired and I barely slept. A roommate dismisses her concerns, informing her that my night out is probably to blame. "Yes, I went out with some of the girls last night and I suppose I had a bit too much" I confirm: sometimes a white lie is easier than the truth. It is now,at least. "Girls...we believe she has a secret lover" the other says, handing Marie a glass of milk and a small plate of biscuits. Their words hurt more than they surely meant with their idle maliciousness: I wouldn't have given them much thought under normal circumstances, but they ring differently after Élodie's party and refusal.

My friend can't refrain a surprised gasp. "Is it true, Léa? You didn't tell me anything" "If she did, it would no longer be a secret affair" the first who spoke argues. "No, Marie, it's just a crazy theory of the ladies here" I sigh, taking a seat too. "How was your journey?" Luckily, my abrupt shift of topic works. Sipping her milk, Marie tells me of her stay in Argenteuil. Being back home after all that time has been nice and weird at the same time: so much has changed since the day she left. Her mother's hair is now turning grey and his little brother announced his engagement to the butcher's daughter, a shy gracious girl named Marguerite: they'll marry next year. Despite what the doctors feared, her Aunt is now recovering, slowly but steadily. The illness debilitated her quite a lot as she's still among the living, which is all that matters. Marie's mother is looking after her now: she's in good hands. Our conversation distracts me but less than usual. I try not to notice. I join the three of them for a late breakfast even if I have little appetite, out of inertia. Then, I go back to my room, Marie in tow. As she start unpacking her bag, I lay back on the bed, unsure of what to do. I wrap myself in the blankets, overcome by a sudden cold. "Why don't you get some rest? It helps with hungovers" she suggests, folding her clothes. I look at her, wondering if "hungover" is truly what makes me feel so wrecked. What last night truly was, a side effect of vie bohème. "Are you nursing me?" I smile weakly. "Of course, you're my friend!" she chuckles, throwing me a sympathetic look. "Close your eyes, I'll be as quiet as a little mouse" Too tired and heartbroken to protest, I do as she says. I slowly descend into a dreamless slumber, a sweet merciful oblivion I anchor to like the victim of a shipwreck holds on to a piece of wood floating in a dark stormy sea. Isn't a shipwreck a good metaphor for my condition? I dared too much and tumbled overboard... Over the weeks that follow, I do my best to blend in my old life as if nothing happened and it was all a dream, a gorgeous dream I had to wake up from sooner or later. I work twice as hard as I used to and my efforts don't go unnoticed, especially now that we have so many orders and so little time on our hands. One day our infamous supervisor gave me an appreciative look and a surprisingly polite smile: keep up the good job and a promotion might be in store in the new year, she said. Marie overheard and winked at me from her desk. As the year inexorably comes to an end, we don't get to see our friends as often as we used to before she left but we keep in touch somehow and make plans for the New Year's Eve celebrations. Something to look up to, right? Life goes back to the way it was and I am grateful. Yet I cannot fool myself, I know it too painfully well. I miss Élodie terribly, unbearably but I don't dare to try and see her again. I avoid crossing Pigalle and Montmartre, I keep my distance from the Moulin Rouge. After what she said, I think she wouldn't like to see me. I've waited weeks for a letter, a note, whatever sign from her but nothing came. It hurts, especially at night when at times sleep is slow to come and I am left all alone with my thoughts. I shut my eyes and she is there, laughing as we gallop down the corridor, whispering my name like a prayer, kissing my lips in the moonlight. Then she dissolves when morning comes, an hurtful remainder that she's gone. A week before Christmas, Marie reads me a letter from home: after hearing what I did for her while she was away, her family invites me to spend the festivities at Argenteuil. If I have no plans to travel back to Roscoff, they would be delighted to have me as a guest. Of course going back home is out of question, so I accept. They welcome me with the warmth everyone would reserve to a relative they don't see often but who hold a special place in their hearts and I must confess, it touches me. Marie and her brother show me around while her mother cook us one of the best meals I have ever had. Even Aunt Odette helps, despite Marie's concerns. Sitting at their table, listening stories and eating a delicious Galette Des Rois, I feel at home, for a moment. I wish I could have felt that way in Roscoff too but it never happened. We leave after an interminable series of hugs and wishes. Marie's father makes me promise to attend the wedding next year, I offer to help sewing the wedding dresses, the groom's and Marguerite's. They all keep waving at us until our carriage takes a turn and disappear from view. We arrive back in Paris just in time for the New Year's celebrations: we greet 1890 drinking cheap champagne and dancing by the river, barely acknowledging the sleet withening the streets of the City of Lights. On our way back home, we share our dreams and hopes for the new year before the mad routines of our lives sets back into motion. I must say that for once I am thankful to the routine I complained about at times through the years. There is something oddly comforting in it now that I am trying to be a whole again. Then one week later, something unexpected happens. I am at work, cutting fabric for a new dress when our supervisor storms in. At first, I fear I am in trouble because she makes a beeline for me. Luckily, I am not: she is just going hysterical because the secretary of a certain Monsieur Toussaint, a loyal costumer and 'a most respectable lawyer', is here to collect an order with urgency but she has no idea where the suit is: the girl who took care of - and made a mess with - the order is sick that day. She adds other anxious mumbling but I don't understand a word. It's clear though what she wants. I assure her I will go find it immediately: as I leave my desk, she squeals to hurry, faster, faster! Away from her hysterical pressure, I find it in no time and head to the hall downstairs after checking myself in the mirror: we must look put together when meeting costumers. Or costumers' secretaries, I suppose. When I reach the ground floor, I see her. A young woman is waiting, patiently looking out the window. The cloak looks oddly familiar: it must be pretty popular these days. I address her with the dignified politeness and affability we have been instructed to have with our costumers. When she turns, I stop mid-sentence: it's not just the cloak, even her face is familiar. "Oh hello, Amélie..." She blinks twice and for a moment a shade of pink colours our cheeks as if our being acquaintances and the circumstances of our meetings make us suddenly shy. She recovers quickly though, and offers me a hand to shake. We chat a little but we don't have much time: duty calls for both of us. She's already heading towards the main door when she suddenly stops. I'm about to ask her if she forgot something, her gloves maybe when she speaks again. "You...don't know what happened, then?" I freeze. A name immediately crosses my mind followed by a growing concern: Élodie. "What? What happened?" She winces and walks back to the counter. In a somber tone and keeping her voice low, she tells me that it was New Year's Eve. The Moulin hosted a huge party to celebrate the success of its opening. Élodie performed in la quadrille that night, as usual. The routine was running smoothly and the dancers lined up for the hat kick. Out of the blue, a visibly drunk spectator grabbed Élodie's foot and pulled her, probably in an attempt to take off her boot or whatever he was thinking. Two gentlemen nearby promptly intervened, pushing him back and freeing her from his clutches, but damage was already done. Élodie lost balance and took a bad fall to the ground. She stood again, helped to her feet by Laurent, and kept dancing till the end. But when she made it to the backstage, she collapsed again, in tears and great pain. "The doctor said that with an ankle in that conditions, it was a miracle she even managed to stand up again" Amélie explains. "Oh God...I knew nothing of it" I cover my mouth with my hand. "I thought so" she grimaces. "How...how is she now?" "Very depressed: she spends her days lying in bed and refusing to see anyone. I had to insist and almost force my way in her room to visit her" She takes a pause. "You see, the doctor told she cannot dance now. Maybe anymore. Not as she did, anyway" I cannot even fathom the effect those words must have had on Élodie: dancing is everything to her. It's like saying to a bird it will no longer fly because they will tie one of its wings. "It can't be..." I reach to the counter for support. No, it can't be... "I know....a tragedy" she agrees. "But you should go see her. I'm sure it will make her happy and maybe you can make her change her mind" Cold dread washes over me as she leaves but I have a new steely resolution now. The following day, after work, I am knocking at Élodie's apartment's door. I am greeted by a young man with a pair of blonde moustaches who introduces himself as 'Louis Renard, painter extraordinaire'. I explain him the reason of my visit and he nods sympathetically, letting me in. He and the other roomates are all worried for El, he says: she's refusing to eat and talk and they only hear her cry. They don't know what to do to help, but "maybe you can, maybe she will listen to her friends", he adds encouragely as we stop in front of her door. Luis clears his throat and knocks but no answer comes. "Él, sunshine? Guess what news I bring? You have a visitor...a friend here came to-" "Go away, I don't wanna see anyone" Luis shakes his head and throws me a pained look. Her voice is so different from the last time I heard it. "But she's here, she came for you. At least-" "I'm tired, I need to rest" Luis opens his mouth for one last attempt to reason with her but I raise my hand, gesturing him to let me try. "Élodie? It's me, Léa, remember? I've heard what happened and I just want to check in on you. If you're tired, I will let your rest and wait here until you wake up. But I will not leave without seeing you" No answer comes again, only silence on the other side. Luis and I hold our breath for a moment then I say: "I will let you sleep, I'm in the other room" Luis shows me the way and we walk down the corridor. I grimace: what was I expecting? Amélie said it all herself... I am taking a seat, bracing myself for a long painful wait when her voice resounds again behind the closed door. "Come in" Luis and I exchange a look then he smiles. He has to go now, he must deliver his latest painting, but I am welcome to stay. Keep an eye on El in the meantime, would you?, he asks. My heart is racing when I open her door: I have gone through what to say to her on my way here so many times but I can't remember a single word now. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves before stepping in. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. Élodie is sprawled over the bed and props herself up when I enter the room. She offers a weak smile, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders before diverting her eyes. She looks tired, a shadow of her usual self. "Léa, what a surprise..." Her voice is feeble, a whisper; her hair askew fall on her face, hiding her visage. At the bottom end of the bed lay her legs, barely covered by wrinkled blankets, the same that once welcomed our passionate embrace. My heart aches at the memory of it and at the sight of her right ankle, wrapped up in tight bandages and held in place by wooden sticks on each sides. "I came as soon as I heard the news" I grimace. She nods somberly, always avoiding my gaze. "I-I should have known you would but you didn't have to after-" Before she can complete the sentence, her voice breaks and even if I can't see her face, I know she's crying. I don't even have to think: I run by her side and pull her into a tight hug, tight enough to hopefully offer her an anchor. She immediately wraps her arms around my waist and I feel her tremble against me as she succumbs to her grief. Her career is over, she says between sobs, she will lose everything and what will she do now? She always knew it wouldn't have lasted forever but now it's too soon, she's still young, too young to end it so soon. I caress her hair, calming, soothing. She buries her head against my side. It's a terrible thing to see: lovely mirthful Élodie shattered, defeated. The worst thing is I can do very little for her apart standing here by her side and holding her as she cries her heart out. I keep stroking her curls even when her sobs subside at last and she takes long breaths, grasping for air. "We'll figure something out" I say out of the blue. She parts and meets my gaze, her eyes puffy and red. "We'll figure something out" I repeat, brushing away a tear with my thumb. I have no idea how but there must be a way out of this, I don't know. In the meantime, I do the only reasonable thing I can think of: I take care of Élodie. I visit her almost every day and bring her food so she won't starve herself. She's a bit hard to convince at first: she keeps saying I don't have to do this but I am more stubborn than her. One day, she takes my hand into her and she apologises for disappearing on me: she regrets it dearly and missed me more than words can tell. Her voice trembles as she speaks and I believe mine does too when I smile to her and say I missed her too. Funny how a bunch of words, the words we need or hope to hear, can make the world around us a bit brighter and warmer even in the heart of winter. One evening, I head towards her apartment with my usual gifts. As I take off my coat and hand it to Luis, I hear her: Élodie is singing a doleful song I have never heard. A memory of her childhood maybe since she recalls the words so well. I hear her from the main room: her voice, albeit a little uncertain, is utterly beautiful. Melancholic, modulated, melodious. That kind of voice you would never get tired of listening, over and over again, like a lullaby. When I reach the threshold of her room, she's looking out of the window, absentmindedly, playing with a loose strand of her. She turns towards me and stops, offering me a smile instead. "What was that?" I ask, walking closer. "Oh, nothing, just an old tune" she shrugs. "I don't even know why it even crossed my mind after all this time" "I got you a book and a little treat" I hand her a cheap edition of a novel a colleague gifted me and a slice of cake I bought on the way there. Élodie's eyes bright up as if I brought her a shiny diamond rock. "You're spoiling me, little pearl" she smiles, unwrapping the sweet. "Here, have some!" I lean down to press a kiss on the top of her head. "No no, it's for you only" She takes a bite and scoots over so that I can take a seat beside her. "Charming" She reaches out and kisses my cheek. The crumbs on her lips tickle, making me chuckle. "What's the story of the book?" she asks, mouth half full. I pick it up and adjust at her side. "I'm not sure honestly...I think it's a romance. I thought it might keep you company" "Sweet" she comments. "....or spicy. Let's see! You're not leaving so soon, right?" I smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. She leans into the touch, a sweet expectancy in her eyes. "No, I'll stay. We can read it together when you finish" She smiles again, nodding and checking the back of the book to get an idea of the plot. As I watch her eating and skimming the book I brought her, I cannot stop thinking of the little tune I caught her singing a moment ago. I look at her and she seems so blissfully unaware of the gracious beauty she filled the room with. When she takes the last bite, she hands me the book to read. "Sounds like a nice story. Shall we?" I take the book in my hands but I hesitate. "Sure, but first could you sing that song again?" I knew my request would surprise her. "Yes but...why?" she asks, sitting straighter. A smile crosses my lips as I place a hand over hers. "I have an idea"

[myimaginesandrp]

The will of the Force

Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N This one is written by me and is full of gramatical errors. Please be kind. Also! Thanks to everyone that takes the time to read this :) This is part 3 of “Midnight in the Forrest” (But you can read it as a stand alone too)

:(Repost because Tumblr isn’t showing it in the tags feel free to repost :)

Summary: You wake up from a nightmare on Star killer base and realize you need to make a big decision.

The night was covered in thick dark smoke as far as the eye could see. Something terrible had happened. The temple was attacked and now it stood before you as nothing more than burning ruins. The ground beneath your feet felt like it would crumble with every step you took. You called out into the void wishing he would answer back, only to be met with silence. The flames grew taller with each passing second. Despite the dismal scene ahead of you, you pushed forward until the heat of the flames became too hot to bear. The heat expelled hot rocks into the air, making you jump out of the way more than a few times. Suddenly the wind picked up, it pushed against you with such a force you could barely stand. Ben, you had to find Ben. He was in danger , you could feel it. Suddenly a gust of wind flew past you. It carried the moans and screams of the fallen and injured. They made your skin crawl as they got louder and louder. Blasts of lighting in the distance echoed through the ground. You had to leave, you had to move now. The crystal around your neck stopped glowing and you couldn’t accept what that meant. He was gone. You pushed your body forward, running as fast as your legs carried you. Through the smoke you could feel it. A dark presence was close behind you. You were running out of time. You looked around endlessly, looking for a place to hide. Suddenly a cliff opened up ahead of you and you dragged your feet to a stop, missing only inches from the abyss below. Another blast of lightning made you jump. A shadowed figure stood before you. Through the smoke you could only see they were wearing a long cloak. You took a step back, your foot nearly slipping underneath you.

“Please” you begged at the figure. “I have nothing to give”

The shadowed figure spoke in a slow deep voice. It was so unnatural, breathy and it sent chills down your spine

“Then your life will have to do”

With that he lifted his hand toward you and a blast of lightning threw you over the cliff. You reached in vain towards the emptiness, hoping to find something to hold on to. All you could hear were his wild cackles of laughter as you feel into the darkness.

...

You woke up with a jolt, nearly falling off the bed. A loud gasp escaped you as your body began to shake from the nightmare. You looked around in the darkness unable to focus on anything. Your hands reached out, until you felt the soft feel of the sheets below you.

Kylo sat up from his side of the bed, startled by your sudden flailing. He turned the lights of the room on and reached for you to try and wake you from your dream completely. No one knew the terrors the night brought more than him.

You were still shaking when a pair of hands suddenly wrapped around you. The action made you scream out in fear. You jerked your body away, trying to free yourself from his hold. The sudden movement caused the wound you had on your abdomen to tear. A small cry of pain escaped your lips.

“Y/N” he spoke quickly trying to gain your attention. His arms hugged you tighter, trying to keep you from thrashing around.

“You’re okay, it was just a dream” He lifted one of his hands and cupped your cheek. Your forehead was beaded with sweat and your heart pulsed as if it were to jump from your chest.

“Y/N” he began again, tilting your chin towards him. “Look at me”

You followed the sound of his voice and after a second, you meet his eyes. He was here with you. Ben was here with you. No, not Ben. It was Kylo Ren. You pushed the thoughts away and focused your attention on your breathing. You ran your hands over his and held on to him tightly as the world around you finally came into focus. He tangled his fingers with yours and buried his face in your neck trying to comfort you.

You were on the ship, in the same room you were in the night before. The long panel of medical supplies was gone, in its place was a table with a tray of food on top. With a few deep breaths in you, you finally relaxed into his embrace.

“Just a bad dream” he assured once more.

He was with you, you were safe. You lifted your hand to wipe away a few tears that had escaped during your awakening. He ran his fingers through your hair, gently brushing it away from your face. You sat there with your thoughts for a moment.

That was the third nightmare you had this week. Each one of them seemed so real, and the voice was so clear in your head. You could’ve sworn you’d never heard anything like that voice before. The though made you shudder. A sharp pain pulsed through your side in response. He lifted his head to look at you, sensing your discomfort. Your hands left his to clutch your wound. You both looked down at your side and found your bandages glowing red. The blood from your injury had seeped all the way through your shirt. He cursed under his breath and stood up quickly.

“Don’t move” he ordered as he searched around the cabinets in the room for medical supplies.

Your eyes trailed behind him. He was wearing dark clothes, but not the same you’d seen him in before. This time there weren’t any capes or masks, just the man you remembered with a disgruntled look in his face.

After a moment he returned with his arms full of gauze pads and strange bottles full of colorful liquids. He dropped them on the bed beside you and began his work. He lifted your shirt gently, removing your bandages and began to clean your wound. His eyes would dart to meet yours now and again, frustration growing with each passing minute. You winced every time he pressed his hand into your skin, the blood not stopping its steady flow from your wound.

After a few minutes of this, you could feel your vision start to blur.

“Ben” you called out in a haze reaching for him. He took your hand and studied your face for a moment as if debating wether to say something or not. Maybe he couldn’t help you. You decided. There were worse ways to go than a blaster shot.

You wanted to tell him it was okay, but your words failed you. After all this time apart, you were just happy to have see him again, regardless of the circumstances you’d found yourselves in now. You gave him a weak smile before you tilted your face up to meet him and pressed your lips to his softly. He was stunned for a short moment, but melted into your kiss.

His hands reached up to cup your face and when you pulled away, he stared back at you with a bright smile. With a newfound determination he moved the supplies away from the bed and sat down close to you.

“Hold still” he ordered as he steadied you on the bed. Again you felt his hand by your abdomen.

“What are you doi-“ you managed to blurt out before a sudden pull of energy took your breath a away. You closed your eyes then, unable to bear the sudden sensation inside you. Your whole body was alive and the spot where his skin touched yours was on fire. It wasn’t painful, just incredibly intense. In that moment you felt connected to him. You were both as one.

A moment later he lifted his hand from you. You looked down at your wound and you found nothing there. You ran your hand across your side looking for any sign of the tear that was just there. There was nothing, no pain, just your body healed as if nothing had happened at all.

You looked up at him, stunned into silence and trying to understand what he’d just done. He examined the spot where your wound had been with a satisfied look in his face.

“How did you do that?” You muttered in disbelief. He shrugged and stood from the bed.

“I’ve told you before. I had to use the force” he said as he discarded the gauze pads he’d used to clean your wound. The bloodied contents of the trash now the only remnants of the blaster shot you’d gotten.

“I...” You breathed out still in awe of what had just happened. He sat back on the bed looking you over.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into” he said.

You nodded, your hand still skimming your side.

“Thank you” you whispered as you met his gaze.

“You’re welcome” he said as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. You smiled at him, perfectly content with him there beside you. An abrupt thought crossed your mind bringing you back to reality.

“Ben... Kylo...” you said “I don’t know what’s gonna happen now.”

He nodded, sensing the conflict inside you.

“The resistance thinks you’re dead” he said. “They stopped looking for you a few days ago.”

You looked down at you hands. Of course your friends and everyone back home would’ve thought you were dead. It had been weeks and no one had heard back from you. But you were here alive. All the people suffering throughout the galaxy...

“Y/N” he said taking a deep breath. “I can’t loose you again” he said choking on the last word.

But what will I do? You thought, unsure of what he was getting at.

“You will stay here with me” he answered out loud. “And rule the galaxy by my side.”

You shook your head at his words. You both knew you couldn’t agree to his ethics, but the thought of loosing him again broke your heart. You examined his features, every line and every curve just as perfect as the day you lost him. In that moment you decided you missed him, you missed and him and you never wanted to be parted from him again.

“It is the will of the force Y/N” he assured “That’s why it has brought us together again”

You thought about his words for a moment. He’d done many terrible things, but there was still light in him. He wasn’t Ben anymore, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. You loved him more than anything.

You’d never been more conflicted in your life. You thought about all your friends back home, all you’d worked for. Leia, who was always looking out for you. How could you leave it all behind?

He offered you his hand, his eyes pleading you to take it. You looked at it for a moment, knowing in the bottom of your heart that you were unwilling to let it slip from you again. Maybe it was the will of the force that you two were together. You made your resolve and after a deep breath, you took his hand. If no one was going to help him come back to the light, at least you’d try.

Part 1

Part 2