#that i didn’t realize Daniel had a FLASHLIGHT

[pinestripes]

Review of Netflix’s 1899

Does not actually take place in 1899. False advertising, 0 out of 5 stars.

[nataliawrites]

Hi! Something with Charles while the reader is on her period please? 🥹

Also, loved your last writing for Daniel! It was so creative and funny!

No Big Deal // Charles Leclerc

You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. Charles spoiled you — with gifts, with attention, and, most importantly, with his actions.

Your relationship was still relatively new, in that wondrous honeymoon phase that often came with young love, but you have never felt as connected with someone as with Charles.

You have yet to move in together but your toothbrush was a mainstay in his en suite and more and more of your clothing was migrating to his walk-in closet. You loved spending evenings together — cooking or watching movies or just relishing in each other’s company — and you usually ended up staying over.

But up until now you managed to avoid spending the night when you were on your period. Charles was either racing abroad or work kept you away. You had no such excuses now. It was the off-season, you had a week off from work, and the only thing you had with you was a pad that has probably been at the bottom of your purse since you first moved to Monaco.

You’re a big girl. You hype yourself up. Just say it. There shouldn’t be a stigma around periods anyway.

“Love?”

“Mmh.” You’re halfway through watching the newest season of Survivor and Charles is lightly dozing under you.

“Can you go to the pharmacy for me quickly?”

He startles awake, almost bumping his forehead against yours, “what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. But I just started my period and I realized that I didn’t bring anything with me for it.”

“You scared me, amore. And that won’t be necessary. Check under the bathroom sink, in the cabinet. I stocked up on the products I saw in your apartment when you first started coming over.”

You swear your heart melts a little right there and then.

“Thank you, love. Seriously. It means a lot that you thought of me like that.”

“Anything for you, amore.”

Later that night, spooning with Charles who is acting as your own personal anti-cramp heater, you feel a trickle of wetness escape your underwear.

Oh no. Oh no.

You slide out from under Charles’ arm and force yourself out from under the warm duvet. You feel for your cell phone on the nightstand and turn on the flashlight, angling it so as not to disturb your boyfriend. Sure enough, you see a bright red splotch on the white cotton sheet.

You rush to the en suite, digging through the medicine cabinet for some hydrogen peroxide and pouring it on a wet towel. You tip toe back into the bedroom, trying your best to dab at the blood without waking Charles up. It doesn’t work.

“Amore? Why are you up?”

You look up at Charles’ sleepy face, barely making out his features, and realize that your hands are shaking so bad that the flashlight is no longer directed at the bed. You anxiously start to ramble, “I’m sorry. I bled through. I’m just trying to clean it. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Stop it, amore. Take a breath. It’s just a sheet. Why don’t you go clean yourself up and I’ll put on a new one? It’s really no big deal.”

“Really?” You sniffle.

“I promise. Your comfort matters a hundred times more than a sheet which will take me less than a minute to replace.”

“Thank you, my love.” You cross the room to press your lips to his, “how did I get so lucky?”

“Believe me, I’m the lucky one. Come back to bed quickly and I promise you more cuddles.”

[laylainalaska]

I was tagged by @redvanillabee​ to show my notes for WIPs. (Original post here.)

The thing is, though, I don’t usually have much - it’s typically either a brainstorming back-and-forth in email or chat that I really can’t share without the other person’s permission, or a couple lines at the top of the document indicating what happens ... or nothing at all. 

You know what I do have, though, is all the notes for Black Water Rising. I was just poking through my older stories to see if I could find anything with coherent notes at all, and ran across the detailed notes at the top of that file. I recall that I was writing this on the fly as I wrote the rest of the fic. See annotations.

This is the starting synopsis:

Peggy, Sousa & Thompson are trapped in an underground bad guy lair during a storm. The place seals off and starts to flood. Thompson is trapped in a lower part of the complex (they find some kind of metal-barred grille, so they can communicate, but they can't really help as the water fills it up). They have to try to free him as well as themselves.

[So this part was what I started out with - just a basic synopsis of what the fic was about. I think I wrote about a third of the fic before I started to get snarled up and realized that I needed to stop and list out different stuff that could happen to them and figure out what order it needed to happen in.]

On revisions, I need more of Jack mansplaining to the ones up above.

[This note cracks me up.]

Middle part:

Jack loses his radio while climbing up to get a piece of angle iron from the wall, so they can't communicate with him anymore.

Peggy sees the waterfall - it's at some kind of large bricked-in shaft w/grille near top

Peggy notices that the concrete is extra crumbly at the hangar

Peggy finds a paint pail and pry bar

Peggy & Daniel try using the pail/bar combo to pry up the grate; it fails

Peggy and/or Daniel turn the paint can lid into a tool for digging concrete out of the shaft

Battery runs down on Daniel's flashlight

Jack shows up (swimming), startling them; he actually managed to climb up & retrieve a length of angle iron. He passes it up through the grate to them. They try to pry up the grate w/that & fail.

[So IIRC, I had these initially listed in random order as they occurred to me, then shuffled them around until I had them in an order that made the most sense for building tension.]

[Then the ending leaped into my brain fully formed and I wrote a pretty detailed synopsis of it before it got away.]

How the end goes:

The water is nearly up to the top of the grates and Peggy & Sousa are trying to break the grate free w/out luck. (At some point they have the idea of using Jack's belt to tie him to the grate, so he doesn't have to constantly tread water, especially since he's having to float on his back to breathe. This might not happen 'til he's in the hangar bay, though.) Then Peggy remembers the crumbly concrete at the hangar bay. She tells Jack she has an idea, but he's not going to like it: she thinks they can get the grates off the vents in the hangar bay much more easily, but he's going to have to swim there. She sends off Sousa to start working on it. This is when she & Jack have some kind of pep talk & he tells her, the don't-leave-me thing and he's worried that he wouldn't stay himself, that he'd never be the bottom guy on the ladder. (Sousa doesn't hear this conversation.)

Anyway, she gets him to swim off & then takes off herself. Maybe they use radios to stay in touch through this but Jack's dies because of the dunking. However, he does make it to the hangar bay. She & Sousa struggle w/the grates. Jack thinks he ought to do the heroic thing, let go and drown so they can go spend their energy on getting themselves out. Peggy yells at him that they aren't giving up on him, so "don't you dare give up". And then they get the grate off and pull him through. He clings to them: "You didn't leave." Then they all go to the room where they're chipping out cement. Jack takes a shift on this. When they get the shaft cleared, Peggy & Jack agree Daniel should go first because climbing the ladder is going to be hard for him. (The water is currently lapping around their knees.) Then Peggy & Jack fight over whether she should go next. She thinks he's condescending to her -- and in fairness, he sorta is -- so one of them suggests drawing straws. They use pencils from her handbag. She gets the short one, but she glimpses that the other one is snapped off to the same length and realizes he cheated. Then he explains, "You saved my life. This is all I can do. Let me do this." So she goes up ahead of him. Looking down, she sees the look on his face is ghastly & realizes that this is terribly difficult for him, but it's something he's gotta do. When they get to the top, she tells him, "You did it. You were the bottom guy on the ladder this time."

[This stayed very similar to the outline when I wrote it, although there’s one big thing that’s missing and that’s the entire sequence where everyone almost gets sucked into the undertow in the shaft. That apparently came up spontaneously when I was writing.]

They're all soaked, filthy, and hypothermic, so rather than driving back to NYC, they get a hotel in Albany, where they get two separate rooms (guys & girls). Peggy takes a long shower & she calls Angie to let her know she's okay. Then she goes over to the guys' room. She finds Sousa in, basically, a blanket nest in front of the radiator. He's startled; she tells him not to get up. He says they were going to order room service "but Thompson's still in the shower" and put it on SSR accounts. So they do. And then they pull all the blankets off the bed and make an enormous nest in front of the radiator and go to sleep.

[And this was also pretty much identical in the final version.]

Not sure if this is interesting to anyone else, but that’s what the notes looked like for that fic, anyway!

[0celesteisthebest0]

Take A Chance On Me

Word Count: 3,929

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem! Reader(no y/n)

Previous chapter     Next chapter

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, lots of tears, descriptions of a nightmare, references to Washington mission, feelings of anxiety, again a lot of tears, (tell me if I should add more).

Authors notes: So quick shout out to my friend EUN!!! They are the best because they heard me bitching over finding a gif and was like dude!! Let me just do one for you, forever grateful 🥲. They aren’t on tumblr but thank them rn!!! uh tidbit about the chapter it reminds me of the feeling you get when you hear Gymnopédie No.1 but other than that this chapter speaks for itself, have fun with the it folks :)

Chapter 22: Rest

Pacing was all you could really do, you continued to pace outside the room that Jack was staying in. You didn’t want to leave his side but the doctor who treated your injuries from the last mission said it was best to stay outside the room as they checked his blood and overall well-being without your nervous presence. The ride back to headquarters you talked to Jack about anything to keep him awake. He wasn’t talkative in those moments but he made small noises to tell you that he was awake and listening. It seemed that whatever the drug was could've had worse effects on his health and you were worried that Jack wouldn’t be able to move. So you decided to pace outside of his room to wait on what the doctor had to say.

 You didn’t focus on the pains that were shooting from your legs and arms. All you focused on was Jack. Your hands also stinged and you thought it might’ve been because you were pulling on Jack’s lasso. But those pains would heal. You weren’t too worried about your own health. You didn’t focus on anything but what was happening behind those doors. You didn’t realize someone was calling your name until a hand grabbed your shoulder. You jumped and turned to see Champ exhausted eyes stare at you.

“Brandy, calm down. You're creating a crater in the hallway with how much you're pacing,” he exclaimed and you stopped pacing and started to pick at your fingers. “You need to go check with a medic, I’ll go walk with you,” he insisted and you refused to move and stared at the door in front of you.

 He sighed softly at your concern, “He’ll be fine. Come on, we gotta go check your condition…” you continued to look at the door and didn’t budge when Champ tried to gently push you away. 

“He wouldn’t like you ignoring your injuries for him,” Champ stated and you sighed and started to move to go check with a medic. Champ followed you and you were forcing yourself to walk quickly.

“Brandy, slow down.” Champ exclaimed and you lessened your pace, “you gotta keep a level head right now,” Champ told you and you huffed. How could you keep a level head if the person you care about most is hurt and might not recover. The person you care about most could’ve died by your hands. 

“Everything is fucked,” you seethed and turned to where the medic was waiting for you. Champ sighed at your anger and walked in. 

“Brandy the mission was a success even with the events that happened. You were able to get the information and get out of there alive,” he corrected your anger with what happened. Why does it matter if the mission was a success? You could’ve died, Jack could’ve died and it just feels like you are deplorable when he only focuses on the mission. The medic started to look at your condition and pulled out a flashlight for your eyes. He was checking for any head damage and put away the light and grabbed your arms and started to look at the damage to your hands. 

“You have superficial rope burn on your hands, shouldn’t be a big problem but I’ll fix them up either way,” the medic uttered and went off to get something for your hands. You sighed and looked at Champ who was giving you a face.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine, what I’m worried about is Jack’s condition… I mean he couldn’t move, maybe he can’t move forever now or I fractured his ribs while performing CPR or worse he could’ve forgotten everything and…” you began to spiral and started to bite your nails out of anxiety. Champ's hands pulled your hand away from your mouth and he looked at you with a strict gaze. 

“Stop, your gonna kill yourself with the amount of overthinking your doing. Stop thinking alright and just listen,” he demanded and you opened your mouth to speak again but he gave you a fierce look. You quickly shut your mouth and let him speak. “You did everything in your power to get both of you out of that situation. The mission was a success so don’t play this game with me.”

“But..” you were about to ramble to him and he stopped you.

“Nope you're not going to do that. The mission was a success so stop your fussing over it ” he sighed out and you huffed at him. You weren’t fussing over something so serious it just made the anger and pain of this situation simmer. You just nodded at him and refused to look at him. You didn’t want him to see how your eyes were getting watery from frustration of this situation.  The medic walked in and grabbed your hands and started to clean your hands and applied topical aloe. The medic then cleaned it with gauze pads and wrapped your hands with cloth gauze. 

“How are your ribs feeling,” the medic muttered and you breathed in and out to see if you felt any pain. 

“Fine.”

“Well it doesn’t seem you have any other injuries so you can leave,” the medic muttered and you swiftly started to walk out of the room to go towards Jack’s room and Champ followed your speed. When you got to the room the door was open and you ran in to see the doctor talking to Ginger about his condition.

“The drug only affects his body for a short time, so he’ll be moving by tomorrow. He’ll experience side effects from the drug like fatigue, flu-like symptoms, and intense muscle pain,” you sighed softly and tried to calm down because it seems like he’ll be fine. 

“Does he have any other injuries like fractured ribs or…” you started to ramble and Champ's hand was placed on your shoulder as a signal to stop. 

“No, he doesn’t have any injuries other than some bruising around his ribs,” the doctor stated calmly and you quickly looked over to Jack who was asleep on the bed. He didn’t look pale like he did when he was with you. He looked so peaceful sleeping and the tension in your shoulders softened just a little. 

“I was surprised to see him still awake after he got injected. So when I finished checking if he was alright he knocked out,” he added and you nodded at him not really paying attention and only focused on Jack who was breathing. He was breathing and that’s all that mattered. “I’ll let you guys be, when he wakes up just call me over,” the doctor said as he started to walk out of the room. You moved closer to Jack’s bed then stopped because Champ still had his hand on your shoulder. 

“Brandy, I think you should go home and rest,” he told you and you contorted your face cause of his statement.

“No I can’t. I need to stay here,” you argued and tried to remove his hand from your shoulder. 

“He’s not going anywhere…go home and get rest I’ll call you when he wakes up,” he pleaded with you and you stared at Jack and back at him and sighed softly. You didn’t want to leave him but what good were you to him exhausted. You pinched the bridge of your nose and nodded. 

“Ginger, look over Jack while I drop Brandy off,” he ordered, letting go of your shoulder. You looked at him confused at his statement but just let it happen. You can’t really argue with what Champ has to say. You looked at Jack again and calmed down because he was alive and that’s all that mattered. 

He's alive and that’s all that matters.

——<><>—<><>——

Graves of the people you cared about most were surrounded around you. It was your fault again, you weren’t able to save them and now you have no one again. You knew you shouldn’t have let them in and now since you did you killed them. Another group of people you let die, useless. The ground beneath you started to sink and you just let it eat you up. You deserved this…

You deserved to be alone, you shouldn’t even talk to anyone. You just ruin everything by being here. Those thoughts surrounded you as you were dragged down into the pit of despair you’ve created. The faces of those you lost appeared. New faces appeared, those of whom you’ve never wanted to see in this state. Isaacs unnerving lifeless eyes stare at you. He was so pale and his lips looked blue. Liz looked bloodied and broken, her bright eyes were dim and the smile she wore when talking to you was nowhere in sight. You tried to touch them but the hole kept dragging you down.

It was a suffocating feeling that you couldn’t escape and it all became worse when you saw Jack’s lifeless body. You were trying to pull yourself out to reach him but it kept pulling you down. You were screaming for him. Begging for him to be alright, you didn’t want to see him bloodied and alone. You tried so hard to drag yourself out but...

You spring up from your bed and your breathing is erratic. It’s just a nightmare, it’s not real, it’s not your fault, it's just a nightmare. A nightmare… you close your eyes and remove the covers that you had over you. Beads of sweat fell from your temple and tears rolled off your cheeks. It wasn’t real, they were alive and you didn’t kill them. You didn’t cause your friend's death either… you couldn’t stop it but it didn’t mean you caused it. You quickly take off your hoodie that caused you to sweat more from the nightmare you just experienced.

 You sighed to yourself and got up from your bed to the kitchen. You really didn’t want to think about this right now, you went to the fridge to see if there were any snacks you could eat to get your mind to only focus on food. You pulled out the tub of ice cream from the freezer and grabbed some variety of chips that you had in the cupboard. Maybe you could watch some T.V to focus on something else. You grabbed a spoon and made your way to the couch. You turned on the T.V and flipped through the channels to see what was on. It was mostly just showing reruns of things that you didn’t care to watch. It was four in the morning so it made sense that they didn’t have anything to watch. You sighed and continued to look through the channels until you stopped at some old cartoon reruns. You smiled at the silly images of Tom chasing Jerry. You hummed at the show and opened your tub of ice cream. You scooped out some of the sweet dessert and put it in your mouth.

The cold feeling made you shiver and your focus was on Tom who was getting beat up by a dog. You tried to get comfortable on your couch but you were getting cold especially since you were only wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. You sighed and went to your room to get a blanket and went back to the couch and made yourself comfortable. You continued to eat your ice cream and watched the bright screen in front of you. 

It was somewhat therapeutic to watch cartoons alone in the dark. Your arms were sore and so were your legs but that didn’t matter all that mattered was the T.V in front of you. The reruns continued and you finished the tub of ice cream and you felt your eyes get heavy with sleep. You didn’t want to sleep, you're afraid of the nightmares that would haunt you. You’ve had nightmares since before you started this job but you hated them. Just because they were always there didn’t mean you got used to this feeling of guilt and pain. It didn’t mean you weren’t afraid anytime you went to sleep. So you forced yourself to stay up and continue watching the cartoons in front of you. You yawned and started to swaddle yourself in your favorite teal blanket. You felt like you were a child watching Saturday morning cartoons with your brother. You closed your eyes and were close to falling asleep but then your eyes opened because you heard a noise. You look at your apartment door and you hear a light knock. 

Why was someone knocking on your door, no one knocks at this hour. You groan to yourself and remove yourself from the soft cocoon you were wrapped in. You forced your tired muscles to get up from the couch and towards the door. You strained yourself a lot from pulling you and Jack out of the water so getting to the door took a while. That shower you took did ease some of the fatigue in your muscles but it was miniscule compared to the current tension. You unlocked the door and opened it just a sliver. Your eyes opened wide and you flung open the door.

“Jack,” you gasped. Why was he here, he should be back at the medical wing resting from what happened. But he was here, wearing his Stetson and his usual Statesman attire. He didn’t even look like he was drugged hours ago. His tired eyes looked at you and he licked his lips and scratched his neck. 

“I-I I’m… Can I come in,” he stuttered out and you nodded your head. His movements were stilted and slow and you closed the door when he got into your apartment. You turned to him and he stared at you with such a powerful expression. 

“Jack are you…” you muttered out and then he pulled you close to his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tight. You immediately reciprocated his embrace and breathed in his warm and forgiving scent. You started to cry that he was able to move and reciprocate the embrace you gave him when he was barely conscious. He was alive, he was here with you, he was here. “I’m so sorry Jack, I’m sorry,” you blabbered out. You kept repeating the phrase and Jack removed one of his arms and moved your face from his chest. He moves your face to look at his watery eyes. 

“Hey please don’t apologize again darlin’, you have nothin’ to apologize about remember ,” he wiped away your tears with his calloused thumb. You sniffled and looked at his face that had tears streaming down his face. You’ve never seen him cry before and watching him tear up in front of you made your heart break. You moved your arms and cupped his face to wipe away his tears and he grabbed your hands as you cupped his face.

“Jack, I almost killed you! That's something to apologize about and..” A choked out sob interrupted your teary statement and the tears grew worse. “I was so worried about you,” you sniffled out “I just kept thinking that… fuck … that if something happened to you it was my fault. And god when you weren’t breathing I just… I couldn’t lose you Jack. You mean so much to me and if you died I…” you sobbed out and he embraced you tight again. 

“Breathe darlin’... just breathe for me, I’m right here. I’m alive darlin’... I promise to you I’m not goin’ anywhere. You saved me okay, you did all you could to save me so please sweetheart don’t blame yourself on all this shit okay?”  he pleaded and rubbed circles in your back. You tried to focus on the sensations of his touch instead of the guilt in your chest. He sighed and pulled you closer to him. 

“I’m just so sorry… god I’m sorry that you had to do all that sweetheart. I’m sorry for so many things,” he breathed out and you made the embrace tighter because of his words. 

“Jack, you don’t have to apologize, I don’t want you to apologize, please… I just don’t know what I would’ve done if you died. I-I love you Jack, I love you so much… and I’m-,” you stopped yourself from continuing and Jack’s hand quickly made its way to your face. He tipped your face to look at him and his eyes were blown and watery. 

“You love me?,” he asked with hesitance. You love him, you told him that and you didn’t even realize that you did but god you loved him with every fiber of your being.

“Yes, Jack I love you,” you said with no hesitation and Jack moved your face closer to his. 

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion, you couldn’t hear anything other than your own heartbeat in your ears. You felt his breath on your face and he closed the distance between you two with a tender kiss. The feeling of his mustache against your skin, his strong nose bumping against your cheek, the way he moved his hand to your neck to deepen the kiss. Your senses were overwhelmed, the way he smelled hypnotized you and you just wanted more of this feeling so you moved your hands to his neck and continued the fluid motion of your lips together. The pain you felt in your arms shot up to your shoulders but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was you two, the universe could wait. 

At that moment it felt like the universe understood and everything around you two faded away.  It was a feeling of exploring one another and shedding the pain and worry with something else entirely. The inherent unhurried gentleness of this sensation of him, his soft lips meeting yours to heal you. To take the pain and turn it into love and hope, you couldn’t help but feel complete.  The tears didn’t stop falling from your eyes but this time those tears weren’t from pain but from joy. The concept of time was relative in this very moment, so it felt like you spent eternity kissing each other until he pulled away. You were left dazed and gasping for air and you smiled wide at Jack.

“I love you too,” he breathed out and your heart couldn’t take the array of emotions that you’ve experienced just now. You felt like you were grinning like an idiot when he told you that. He caressed your cheek and he gave you a toothy grin. “God you look beautiful,” he kissed your forehead and you felt giddy. None of what happened felt real but you're so glad that it was and you leaned into his touch. Tears streamed down your face and you couldn’t quite believe what he just told you. The tears didn’t stop and you got choked up at the variety of emotions that whiplashed in a couple of seconds. “Oh sweetheart.” He loves you he really loves you and… after everything that the two of you experienced he-

“Can-can you say it again,” you sobbed out and of course he complied. His arms reached for your waist and he picked you up. 

“Jack!” you beamed at him and he started to grin at being able to make you smile.

“I love you,” he twirls you around and you start to laugh at his shenanigans. He sets you down and kisses the corner of your mouth and thumbs away your tears. You felt a bit dizzy after all that and the soreness of the muscles of your legs started to make you buckle. “Woah there, you fallin’ for me sugar,” he grabbed your waist and you looked at his bright eyes and dopey grin. You rolled your eyes but your smile never faltered. 

“You're so corny,” you sniffled trying to contain yourself. 

“Only for you sweetheart… you gonna be alright?,” your heart leaped and you continued to smile until your cheeks hurt. Of course you were going to be alright he loves you! You nodded at his question. 

“Jack, can…” the hesitance of asking was eating you up and he looked at you with those beautiful eyes looking like you were the only person in the world. 

“I’m all ears, sweetheart,” his kind tired eyes stared at you with so much joy.  

“Can you stay with me tonight?

He kissed your forehead, “Of course.” It was a plea that you were happy he took. You grabbed onto his hand and guided him to your couch where the pair of you sat down together. The tears from before were dried up but were threatening to come again as you saw Jack moving and breathing a polar opposite from your nightmares and from the mission. His eyes were still misty and it’s what caused your tears to stroll down your cheeks. He immediately brought you close to him and let the emotions out.

“I’m so happy you're alive, I’m so happy you're here… I don’t want to ever deal with that again.” You cried into his chest and the warm feeling of Jack made you cry more. It seemed like you were holding a lot of emotions from all of this and the dam just released. He held onto you, making sure you were okay and you saw tears prick his eyes. “Can-can you hold me like this… I don’t want to let you go,” you were blubbering out words at this point, too many emotions going into overdrive from pure happiness to fear in one quick second. 

“Of course darlin’, I won’t let you go I promise. I promise I’ll be here for you always,” he said earnestly while the two of you shared tears of pain and joy together. “I love you so much and you’ve done so much for me, for us and I will always be here for you,” Jack said somewhat choked up and you immediately started to sooth him by making patterns on his back. 

“I’m-“ you couldn’t even begin to start what you wanted to say but all that came out was a choked out sob.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” he sighed softly and just continued to hold you until both of your breathing wasn't erratic from the array of things you’ve faced. He softly pet the back of your head. 

“I’m just so happy,” you sniffled out trying to not hyperventilate. “So happy you’re here.” You emphasized again. “I’m sorry it doesn’t look like it but really I am.” You wiped away some stray tears that continued to leak out. It really felt like you couldn’t stop crying and you aren’t sure if it’s a problem yet. 

“Darlin’, it’s okay… please I want you to let it all out.” His tone was watery like yours but more a calming presence than your erratic emotions. His continuance of stroking your head as you rested your face on his chest soothed you, the tides of tears reached its peak and all that was left was the exhaustion crushing down on you. He didn’t let go of you and your body was exhausted from the emotional toll that you experienced. You were swiftly drifting away and Jack’s grip didn’t loosen which made you feel safe. 

“I love you,”  There was no need for any more words, just love. 

“I love you too darlin’.” Were the words that echoed you into slumber so you could rest.

Taglist: @shadowolf993​ @salome-c​​ @marydjarin​ @captainstormborn

[marionwritesstuff]

Special Place - Daniel Ricciardo x reader

part 2

https://media.giphy.com/media/ULeWIifCgyjv63ggsr/giphy.gif

I stepped into the back of the ambulance, hiding from the sun shining down at the Circuit of the Americas.

I stood in the medical tend, hiding from the sun shining down at the Circuit of the Americas. It was the final day of race weekend and I was more than excited when the company I work with contracted me for this job. I inherited a love of motorsports from my dad and I was not going to pass up an opportunity to see the fastest cars in the world up close.

It was midway through the race when, just few dozen yards from me, a car slams into the side barrier at high speeds. I wait for the dust to dissipate when I see that it's Daniel Ricciardo, thankfully showing movement.

I jump into high gear, knowing that the Aussie driver would soon make his way to the tent to be checked out.

Within seconds, race crew reached him as he hoisted himself out of his vehicle, seemingly okay after the big crash. With his helmet on, he was escorted to the medical tent.

He took off his helmet and gloves, his hair damp with sweat and his chest bouncing quickly from the adrenaline. "Hi, I'm Daniel," he said kindly, reaching out his hand.

"Y/n, nice to meet you," I enchanted as I took his hand. His firm grip fit perfectly into my delicate hands. We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, before I coughed, knowing I had a job to do.

"Okay, I'm going to do a few basic check ups, just follow along and you'll be fine," I said, grabbing my gloves from a side table. "You can have a seat right up on that cot and take off your suit just till your waist please." I turned around, getting my medical bag and laying it out next to me.

I ran through the basic checks, breathing, lung sounds, blood pressure, etc, etc. Finally, I took my little flashlight and shined it into Daniel's chocolate brown eyes, asking him to look up and down. Moving the light to the corner of his eye, I asked him to look the other way. Instead, he kept looking straight at me. "No, not at me, that way," I pointed. The boy sure was persistent. As my frustrations increased, I got flustered, which he found amusement in.

"You can't expect me to not look at you when you're that close to me," he said with a flirty smirk on his face.

I immediately blushed, looking away for a moment before resuming my task. "Just, look that way, please," I said, flustered. And with that, he did.

As soon as I turned my flashlight off, Daniel's eyes went straight back to me. I went over to my computer, inputting some notes, and took off my gloves.

"Okay, now I'm going to check your neck. Just straighten your back and stay still." Daniel stiffened, lifting his chin to give me easy access. I felt around his throat, feeling for any stiffness or knots in the muscles. I moved behind him, but as soon as I did he turned his head, following me with his gaze.

"No, no," I giggled, "keep your head forward." I waited for him to turn but he didn't.

And still, Daniel's eyes were on mine. I would look away occasionally, pretending like I was checking for something, but every time I looked back he was still there.

Gently, I touched his chin, moving it forward. He resisted, turning it straight back. I smirked, "Okay, what do I have to do to make you look forward for 10 seconds?"

Daniel thought for a second, breaking eye contact for the first time. His large hand brushed against his light stubble, his accentuated eyebrows fixed in a puzzled manner.

Finally, he had his wish. "Go out with me."

I paused, instantly stunned by his very forward answer. I looked at him, trying to see if he was joking, and, he wasn't. Seeing as how I needed to do my job and he was pretty cute...

"Okay, when?" I confidently asked, turning his head.

"8pm tonight. Where should I pick you up?"

You finished up your exam, noting on a clipboard your observations, and leaned back against the other bed in front of him.

"My shift here ends at 8, could we do later?"

He pursed his lips together. "Mmm I'm afraid not," he replied, "but I'll just pick you up from here at 8."

You paused, realizing that you only had your work uniform and normal clothes, nothing to wear on a date. "Are you sure? I should go home and shower and change and-"

"Nonsense," he cut you off, "you look great." He stared into your eyes, reading you, memorizing every curve of your face, every freckle. You did the same to him, admiring his sexy stubble, his full lips, and especially those eyes. Ugh, you could look into those eyes forever.

After a bit of time had passed, you two entranced in each other's presence, you cleared your throat. "So, the exam's done. No injuries, just bruises but those will go away with time," you said, as if the experienced F1 driver standing in front of you didn't know.

You blushed with your realization, but Daniel carried on, assuring you you were fine. "Great! I'll pick you up at 8pm near the McLaren Paddock," he exclaimed, rising from the cot.

"Sounds good," you smiled, excited to see him again in just a few hours.

-- 8pm

You were gonna be late, and you hated being late. You knew you couldn't go on a date with Daniel in your EMT uniform, so you quickly ran to the nearest change into your every day clothes - jeans, a cafe cropped top, and a light green cardigan.

You checked your watch, noting that it was already 8:10pm and Daniel was probably waiting for you.

You ran out to the McLaren paddock and saw Daniel resting against his McLaren 720S, scrolling through his phone.

"I'm so so sorry I'm late! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long," you said.

"Not at all," he replied, looking up from his phone. He was wearing jeans and a t shirt, nothing fancy but he still looked irresistible. "Shall we?" Like the gentleman he is, he opened the door for me and I scooted my way in. He skipped over to the other side of the car, buckling himself in.

"So, where to?" you questioned, a grin already apparent on your face.

He looked over, giving you a smirk. "It's a surprise." And with that, he sped off.

--

The drive was fast, as any F1 driver would be, and you looked over occasionally to see Daniel in his element. He looked so comfortable, one hand on the wheel and the other on the arm rest.

You both made simple conversation along the way. You told Daniel about working as an EMT and moving out of your parents' house at the age of 17, and he told you about leaving his community in Australia to pursue his dream. The conversation flowed and if it was as if you had known each other for ages. Every now and then again you would catch him staring at you and you would lock eyes, getting sunken into his chocolate brown eyes.

Eventually, you arrived at a grassy hill overlooking the city. Exiting the car, Daniel got out a picnic basket and blanket and quickly laid it down on the grass.

"Wow, a picnic and a sunset and a view, what a romantic," you cooed.

"Anything for a pretty girl like you," he replied, instantly making you blush.

You sat down on the blanket next to him, leaving a bit of space between you both. Daniel got out two glasses and a bottle of wine, pouring you both a glass. "To new people and hopefully new adventures," he cheered, his smile wide with pride.

"God, it's beautiful up here," you said, admiring the view. The city lights were so prominent but nature still surrounded you - the best of both worlds. "How'd you find it?"

He looked over at you, making eye contact as he went on with his story. "A few years ago in my debut season I was having the roughest time adjusting to the new car. So, I ran. I ran the hell out of the city and just kept going, trying to get my mind off everything." You listened to his words intently, your eyebrows coming together as you digested everything he said. "Eventually, I ended up here. And something about this space, it... healed me. The next day, I got to the circuit, raced my heart out, and got a podium."

You paused, taking in everything. "Thank you for bringing me here, to your special place," you said, looking directly at him.

Daniel looked down at your lips, then back at you. "Thank you for agreeing to come here."

"Well it's not like you forced me to come or anythi-" you started, just as he cupped your cheek, stopping you mid sentence.

"Y/n?" he asked, breathing heavy, "Can I kiss you?"

Daniel's question shocked you as you'd never encountered someone who actually asked for consent. "Please," you replied desperately. He smashed into your lips, enveloping you in a deep kiss, his tongue maneuvering his way around your mouth.

You deepend the kiss, bringing your hands up to his hair, playfully tugging at it. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Enveloped in his scent, you didn't want it to stop.

*ring ring, ring ring*

Fuck.

You realized it was coming from your device, and you quickly apologized to Daniel before answering it.

"Hello?"

"y/n, it's me. Something's bad happened to your brother - he's in the hospital," your favorite aunt, Kelly, said with urgency.

"What?!" You felt your heart automatically start racing as Daniel looked at you with grave concern. "Where is he?"

"He's at St. David's North - come quick, they're going to take him to surgery soon."

"I'll be there soon Aunt Kelly, thank you." You quickly hung up the phone, gathering your things. "Sorry Daniel, I really have to go."

"No worries," he said, gathering the picnic materials as well. "Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"Yes that'd be great, St. David's North Hospital please, my brother's there." You started towards the car, and Daniel once again opened the door for you.

"We'll be there in 15," he said with confidence.

--

a/n: that's it! hope ya'll enjoyed this one. i love to see daniel's soft side :)

[prismatica-the-strange]

Could you write a cuddly and 🔥 Daniel story with all the major tropes in one? Like wet clothes(get nakey 😬), only one bed (get close🤗), a very cold night (enjoy 😏) I just need something to start the week with a better mood… 🥰

I hope this brightens the rest of your week, my love 💜💜💜

18+

Warnings: Smut (soft smut), fluff

It wasn't hard to get turned around in the woods of the alien planet, especially when your compasses and radios didn't work.

Neither of you knew where you were in relation to base camp, and as soon as you decided to wait for O'Neill and the others to find you, you were caught off guard by the storm.

Daniel had a death grip on your arm as you stumbled blindly through the freezing mix of slushy rain and snow. By some sort of amazing luck, you came across what looked like a small hunting cabin.

Once you managed to get the door open your clothes were soaked through, it wasn't long before you were both shivering. The inside of the building wasn't much warmer than the outside, but it offered shelter from the elements.

Shining his flashlight around quickly, you could tell this place hadn't been used in maybe a couple years.

"There's a fireplace," he said, as his bag fell to the floor, "I think I saw a small shack outside, probably wood in there. I'll be right back."

"Be careful!" You call after him. Your bag collapses to the floor and you start looking around the small building.

You find a couple old lanterns and some worn blankets.

"No good," He says when he comes back empty-handed, "It was all wet and rotted."

There're a couple logs next to the tinderbox, but it's not nearly enough to last the night.

"It'll have to do," he sighs when you start a small fire. The small flames illuminate the room, but only slightly, you're glad you found the lanterns.

"Jesus, look at you," he grabs your arms, your jacket making a slight squishing sound, "You're soaked."

"You should see yourself," you snark back, teeth chattering slightly.

"Here," he helps you get your jacket off, followed by his own. Your thin t-shirt is like a second skin and you feel his eyes on you. Not that you're keeping your staring to a minimum, the way his shirt clings to his body is absolutely sinful.

"You keep staring at me like that I'm gonna think you want something," he teases, pushing your wet hair out of your face.

"We should really get out of these wet clothes," You run your fingers down his stomach, hooking them in his belt loops, "Wouldn't want to get sick."

He pulls you into a kiss, hands trailing up under your shirt, warm against your skin before he pulls it over your head.

He groans into your mouth as you tug on his shirt, wanting desperately to get rid of it.

It doesn't take long before you're both naked and he's pushing you down on the small bed in the corner. You're both still damp but it does little to curb his groping touches.

His mouth burns your skin with sloppy kisses down your neck.

"Чудова ... Прекрасна ... Досконалість ... Так сильно тебе люблю." Gorgeous... Beautiful... Perfection... I love you so much, muttered between kisses.

His weight on you, a strong grasp on your hips as he thrusts into you, stretching you, moaning in your ear.

"We should- fuck- should get caught in the rain more often," You joke and he gives you a breathy laugh.

"Like we need another excuse to have sex, Зайчик," He half laughs half moans, nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

"Fuck- Mmm! Any excuse," You gasp, nails raking down his back, "Every excuse to have y- Ah! Every excuse to have you!"

The heat building inside you grows hotter and hotter and you feel like you're going to explode.

"Ah! Daniel I'm-I'm gonna- fuck! I'm so close!"

"सह, मेरा प्यार," Cum, my love, he rasps, not far behind you.

Your back arches and your toes curl when your orgasm washes over you, his name on your lips as a strained whimper.

His arm supports your back and he whispers 'I love you's against your chest as he cums.

"Well, that's one way to warm up," You say with a slightly dazed laugh.

He leans down and presses his lips to yours with a sleepy grin, "Wanna hold you."

He flips your position, hand tangling in your hair, holding you against him, and pulling one of the thin blankets over your bodies.

You feel his chest rumble with a contented hum when you start tracing shapes on his skin.

The fire is already dying down, but you're so wrapped up in each other that you don't even notice.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wake up to Daniel's arm suddenly pulling you close, the other reaching out with the recognizable click of a gun being cocked.

"Put the gun down Danny boy."

"Jack?" You lift your head to see him squinting tiredly at the intruder. He uncocks the gun and reaches for his glasses.

"You two," Jack sighs in exasperation, "Every time."

You look at him in confusion before realizing your naked body is barely being covered. You laugh nervously and bury your burning face in Daniel's chest.

"Get dressed," O'Neill says, "We're headed back Earth-side in three hours."

You hear the door shut and Daniel relaxes beneath you, his hand stroking your spine.

"Well that was embarrassing," You mutter and he laughs.

○●○●○●○●○

Taglist: @mysg1spacemonkey @sgcprometheus @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @malcolm-reeds-pineapple @witching-things @reeseykins @abnormalvampire64 @girl-obsessed-with-things @gatez @myro278 @just-a-si-fi-nerd

Masterlist

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out at Night

A/N: Debating on whether or not I should put this on AO3. Thoughts? Do I need to edit what I have before posting on my favorite website? Anyways, I’m really into horror and I’d like to try my hand at focusing on MC’s descent into madness while falling for her captors. Dimitrescu Sisters x OFC (Desdemona) Summary: Desdemona, her twin brother and best friend are on vacation in Romania when things go horribly wrong the moment they run out of gas. Desdemona has the misfortune of enchanting the monsters that decided to terrorize her group. 

        It was a cold, pitch black night in the northeastern mountainous region of Romania, a heavy fog enveloping the roads which made it nearly impossible for any source of light to pierce through the gloom. This did not bode well for Desdemona and her friends as they dared to venture through the treacherous weather in order to reach their destination. The humble village of Bran should have been a welcome sight by now although from where the unlucky travelers were currently stranded, Desdemona had her doubts. To make matters worse, her best friend, Veronica, shoved a crumpled map of Brasov, Romania into her boyfriend’s hands and demanded answers. Her hot-headed friend was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“Desmond, are you sure we’re headed in the right direction? None of this seems to make sense!”, Veronica exclaimed as she nervously rummaged through her shoulder bag for yet another cigarette. She struggled to light her cigarette this time, the harsh winter’s wind blowing hard against her bare hands caused them to shake violently.

 Desmond sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his messy chestnut brown hair, pushing wild dark curls away from his eyes.

“You think the shopkeeper gave us the wrong directions to fuck with us because we’re tourists? I knew we were gonna get shit signal out here in the bum fuck middle of nowhere but come on, the old guy looked knowledgeable. Can’t blame me for trustin’ him.” Desmond casually replied with a shrug. He then took a moment to straighten the map again before folding it neatly and tucking it into his pocket.

Desdemona was of the same mind as her twin. It seemed likely that the locals would be completely burnt out from the flocks of American tourists invading their hometown just to squawk about the castle that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. How exhausting it must be to constantly point out where to go to book a tour or who to call to arrange such things when the internet exists. In hindsight, Desdemona should have known better than to bug the polite yet obviously impatient shopkeeper about their vacation plans.

“Think about it, V, Desmond has a point. The guy probably gave us the run around for shits and giggles. You know, it would have been fine taking a wrong turn and then having to backtrack all the way back into town, but we should have just stayed the night at the Inn. Now we’re outta gas and it’s fucking freezing out here.” Desdemona added, now hugging herself tightly and occasionally rubbing her arms to keep warm for as much as possible.

Veronica growled but relented as she took a long drag of her cigarette, her foot resting against their rented vehicle. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Snowflakes began to drift downwards, and it only fueled Veronica’s anxiety about being stranded in the middle of nowhere in the dark. “Alright, alright, we can either freeze to death in this piece of shit,” Veronica began as she kicks the van for good measure, “or we can freeze to death out there looking for shelter. I think I see a path over there that we can take to find what we need. It might lead us to people who can help us, or it might lead us to certain death. All I know is that we need to make a decision now, it’s starting to snow.” Desmond grins and wraps his arm around Veronica’s waist, pulling her close and pecking her on the cheek. “To certain death it is! Des, grab the essentials and let’s head out. According to the map, there are a few small villages in the surrounding area. Chances are we’ll stumble into one of them eventually and find shelter. We’ll get this mess sorted out.” Desmond eagerly stepped away from Veronica’s embrace and stepped towards the beaten van.

After a few moments of scrounging around for what they deemed important, Desdemona ended up with a backpack full of snacks, water, spare clothes, and the first aid kid. Veronica settled for an entire carton of cigarettes and a few spare lighters because you know, it was “absolutely essential” to her survival in a foreign land. Desmond found a flashlight and decided that going light would be preferable to him in case they ran into any trouble. They paved the way forward, following the path that strayed away from the lonely sliver of road. Turning back to get a final look at the abandoned van, Desdemona swallowed the surge of fear that was beginning to creep up on her. She had seen enough horror movies in her lifetime knowing that this probably wasn’t going to end up well for her little group. The logical side of her brain, what little rational thoughts she had left, gnawed their way through her brain begging to be voiced out and heard.

‘Turn back around, it’s safer to stay put and wait until morning! This is dangerous and you know it!’

Desdemona reluctantly glanced back at her brother walking ahead with Veronica hand in hand and the younger twin suddenly stopped in her tracks. Maybe she should stay behind just in case while her gregarious brother searched for help in these mountains; after all, he was far more easygoing and could easily charm the most stubborn of fools into helping him.

“Des, what’s wrong? I thought we all agreed that we should stick together.” Veronica called out to her, uncertainty lacing her tone as her eyes flicked back and forth between the van and a terrified looking Desdemona.

Nervously fidgeting in place, Desdemona struggles to settle the conflicted thoughts warring in her mind. She knows that staying behind and waiting for help would be the wisest course of action, but there was safety in numbers. There’s danger lurking beyond the vast expanse of mountains that surrounded them and she would be utterly defenseless if left alone. Desdemona’s instincts were begging her to go back to the van but the connection she shared with her twin demanded that she follow him through the sketchy path that would most likely lead to their demise. She couldn’t let anything happen to Desmond, she would never forgive herself if something happened to him out here.

With a shaky resolve, Desdemona straightened up and gazed back at Veronica with a small smile on her face. “I’m just nervous, you know. Desmond and I binge watched all the Wrong Turn movies last Saturday so being out here alone in the dark is uh, freaking me out a little. I’ll be fine, though, let’s just keep going.” Desdemona lied as she rushed over to her best friend who rolled her eyes at the revelation.

“No wonder you’re acting all sketch, Des. First of all, binge watching horror movies the weekend before your vacation was stupid as hell so now you’re all hyped up over nothing. Secondly, Wrong Turn sucks. Y’all should have binged Hatchet, Danielle Harris is so hot!” Veronica declared, eager to get conversation going as the three of them trekked through a rocky and narrow trail that led to who knows where.

Desmond was quick to reply in defense of his favorite horror movie franchise and Desdemona was thankful to hear them bicker back and forth. The conversation drowned out the sound of cold whispers tickling naked branches in the distance, the loud crunching of their footsteps on the snow-covered ground, and ravens crying out above them. It was so eerie and something about it all didn’t sit right with Desdemona. She hooked an arm around Veronica’s free arm and together they discussed their favorite horror movies. Veronica could tell her best friend was still a little spooked, so she pulled her closer until she was pressed against her side to provide as much comfort as she could give.

The trail continued to narrow the further they moved along but nothing they observed thus far gave the impression that that anything was out of the ordinary. When they reached a clearing, Desmond sighed with relief. His breath steaming the frigid air was nearly the only thing they could see ahead if it weren’t for the flashlight providing what little comforting light source they had. The snow fall began to pick up the pace but it wasn’t blinding, thankfully. Desmond brushed aside large shrubs and stepped further into the winding path, coming to a full stop when he realized what lay ahead of the weary travelers.

The trio stared in awe at the overpowering sight of a 15th century castle looming over a quiet village sheltering underneath a blanket of darkness, or what Desdemona assumed was its shadow. No amount of fog could hide the monstrosity that was the architectural brilliance of this castle that Desdemona saw before her very eyes.

“Desmond, honey, where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t leave Dezzy and I behind!” Veronica suddenly shrieked as she sprinted after her overly excited boyfriend down the hill that led into the village. Desmond turned around and could only offer a sheepish smile with a shrug before eagerly running into the unknown. Desdemona tore her gaze away from the castle and spurred into action, jumping and running as fast as she could in order to catch up with her twin.

Desmond was energized by both the cool crisp air and the promising sight of civilization, but that energy was quickly drained out of him when he encountered something wholly unexpected. Veronica reached the eldest Hawthorne sibling and was about to admonish him for leaving the two frightened girls behind, but she was quickly shushed by Desmond. Desdemona quietly approached the scene, her eyes widening when she realized that this was not the village of Bran at all.

They had indeed reached a small village but it looked completely obliterated. The houses looked shattered and broken, as if something gigantic and menacing had come through and picked away at the people that once inhabited this community one by one. Desmond cautiously led the group forward, calling out for any signs of survivors. This wasn’t on the itinerary…

Veronica was on the verge of tears, her hands covering her mouth as she observed the tragic scene before her. Every now and then, she would step into a broken home and call out to somebody – anybody- only to step back out with a grim look on her face. She pulled out her cell phone and attempted to dial emergency services only to be met with disappointment.

“There’s blood.” Desmond says quietly. His eyes peer over the trail of fresh blood and fear grips him the moment the flashlight scans over the corpse of a rotting horse. “Fuck, that stench – we need to get the fuck out of here now!” Veronica cries, gagging and turning away from the horrific view.

Desdemona would have expressed an equally strong reaction had she not felt a sense of…wrongness abruptly assaulting the atmosphere. The moment they stepped foot into the village, the environment reacted to their presence and that did not sit right with Desdemona at all.

“Desmond, do you hear that?” Desdemona asked, her voice laced with terror. Desmond Hawthorne heard the fear in his sister’s quivering voice and it made him feel uneasy. “I don’t hear anything, Des.” He replies as he reaches for Veronica’s hand and squeezes it tight. The couple began to frantically look around them as they slowly backed into Desdemona. As soon as they grouped up again, both Veronica and Desmond wrapped themselves around the youngest sister. The oppressive silence sent a whole new wave of fear over the group before something insidious could be heard approaching them in the distance. Desdemona gasped when she heard maniacal giggling and it was getting louder. A fluttering of what sounds like wings -bats, ravens, perhaps- advancing towards the group sent chills down Desdemona’s spine. What the hell was coming after them?

Desmond flashed his light from side to side before it settled on the massive black ball of insects that instantly appeared before him. The insects dissipated and somehow revealed the shape of a human being wearing a dark robe and hood. The only thing he could truly make out was the color of a red pendant wrapped around dainty, pale skin and a blood smeared smirk. Desmond’s heart dropped in absolute horror and panic immediately set in.

“RUN!” He screamed, taking off with a terrified Veronica in tow. Neither of them looked back to make sure Desdemona was following. The flashlight dropped, and it briefly circled the ground. The flickering light revealed two other black masses of insects approaching the younger Hawthorne sibling who was paralyzed with fear. All she could hear in that moment was delirious laughter coming from the women that revealed themselves two seconds later, the insects dissolving into thin air right before her very eyes.

The crazed woman standing directly in front of Desdemona leaned forward and took her time sniffing her pretty prey who stared at her with petrified gray eyes. Desdemona found it alarming that despite the lunatic’s appearance, dried blood caked on her lips and unruly red hair and a wild, untamed look in her eyes, she found her quite…striking. Perhaps she was going mad. None of this made sense, how could this be happening right now?

“Mmm, sisters, look at what I found. Such a pretty young thing all for me and she smells oh so delicious.” The woman with the green pendant spoke, giggling madly at the profound effect she had on Desdemona.

 “Daniela, you’re delusional, she’s mine; I’m the one who picked up on her tasty scent!” The one with the red pendant spoke after she turned her attention to the only human who didn’t run from them.

The brunette with the yellow pendant reached over and yanked on Desdemona’s hair so hard back, Desdemona thought her life was over. She bared her teeth as she skimmed her nose across the young woman’s neck. Her tongue darted out between blood smeared lips and left a wet trail, causing the smaller woman’s breath to hitch at the unwelcome contact.

“Mmm, she smells so utterly divine. Bela, by the way, it wasn’t you who found MY new pet, it was me! You ungrateful wretches always want to touch what’s mine!” The hooded figure’s grip on her hair tightened and Desdemona whined, causing all three women to delight in her torment.

What Desdemona couldn’t figure out was what they wanted to do with her exactly and why they were fighting over her like three starved wild dogs fighting over a piece of meat. She needed to get out of there fast. “LET GO OF MY SISTER, YOU UGLY CUNTS!” Desmond’s angry voice broke through in the distance and all three creatures turned their attention on the young man who dared interrupt dinner time.

Desdemona decided this was the time to take advantage of their distraction and she quickly slipped away, sprinting as fast as she could to the nearest unoccupied house. Desmond, relieved that his sister broke free from whatever those things were, spun on his heel and ran the opposite direction. He could only hope that all three of them would make it out of this godforsaken village alive.

All three women threw their heads back and laughed wildly into the air as they knew catching their prey would be much more satisfying when they caught them alone in isolated surroundings. It added to their fear and it made the blood taste that much sweeter.

“The hunt is on, sisters. Leave the pretty plaything alive, but the others, we will present to our dear mother as gifts. We’ll make the new pet watch mother undo their very lives; it’ll only make her that much more delicious when we have our fill.” The one with the yellow pendant stated as she sniffed at the air, shuddering when Desdemona’s irresistible scent filled her nostrils once more.

Desdemona found refuge in a large house a few yards away and slammed the front door shut when she ran inside. She quickly assessed what she assumed was the living room, she found a bookcase and summoned whatever strength she had and brought it down in front of the door. She heard something clawing at the door the instant she blocked the entrance, the door shaking violently and mad laughter filling her ears once more.

Desdemona shakily reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, turning on the flashlight and began to look for another way out.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, Jesus Christ! What the fuck are those things!? Where’s Desmond? Is Veronica alright? How the hell do I get out of here? I just want to go home!’ Desdemona’s mind was running through a million thoughts per second but she couldn’t for the life of her settle on anything that would give her a moment’s peace. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she explored the dark home, her hands stretched out in front of her as she searched for anything that would provide answers to her problems. When she found a door near the kitchen, she cautiously opened it and cursed the eerie creaking sound that followed. It was discovered that the door led to a cellar of some kind and Desdemona rushed down the stairs without closing the door behind her. She slowly scanned the large open space and saw that this home had been recently ransacked or rummaged through. Clothes were scattered across the floor, furniture had been broken in half and tossed carelessly to the side but Desdemona found a hallway beyond the room she was in. ‘That must be the way out. Hurry up and grab something to protect yourself with!’

Desdemona carefully tip toed around the clutter, her phone flashing from side to side but to no avail, she couldn’t find anything that would prove harmful to whatever those monsters were outside. The woman nearly tripped over and fell when her foot stepped in something thick and wet, causing her foot to slip forward. Desdemona quickly steadied herself on a cabinet but it didn’t make her feel any better when she realized her fingers were covered in a thick, red substance.

Her breathing growing heavier, Desdemona flashed her phone light over to the cabinet only to find that it was covered in blood – a lot of it, to be exact and it was still dripping on the floor as though it were fresh.

All color drained from Desdemona’s face when she heard pained howling coming from the village; it was Desmond and he was screaming for help. Her twin was in danger and here she was selfishly trying to find a way to preserve her own life.

She quickly twisted around to run towards the howling but she stopped dead in her tracks when a black mass of insects appeared before her. The cloaked figure could only be identified by the color of her green pendant and a delirious smile plastered on her face. Fresh blood dripped down her chin and Desdemona’s eyes reluctantly followed the pool of blood forming at their feet. There was a sickle in her right hand and it was covered in blood, much to Desdemona’s dismay.

Desdemona began to tremble, overpowered by the frightening sight and the implications that followed a bloodied sickle carried by a madwoman. “The sound of your heart hammering against your chest is like music to my ears, pretty thing. Do not fret, my beauty, the moment we met I knew you were special. You’re meant to be mine, we’re meant to be!” She whispers madly, her tongue wetting her lips as her eyes rake over Desdemona’s body slowly and deliberately.

Desdemona doesn’t know what she’s talking about and she doesn’t want to know. Before she could form any kind of response, she’s pinned against the bloody cabinet behind her. She gasps in surprise and that seems to trigger the creature into action.

Desdemona screams as the hooded woman lunges at her collarbone and pierces through her skin with her razor sharp teeth. Desdemona weakly clutches at the woman’s shoulders, growing lightheaded from the sudden blood loss that was occurring. Feeling the woman about to collapse in her arms, Daniela pulls back and savors the taste of her blood. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she sloppily licks the blood off her mouth and regains what little self-control she had left to preserve her pretty plaything for a little while longer.

When dazed gray eyes meet hers, Daniela’s cold, black heart skips a beat. She had never seen anything more beautiful. So she raises her sickle, causing Desdemona’s eyes to widen in panic and Daniela can’t help but giggle a little.

“Don’t worry, my beauty, I’ll be gentle with you. The hideous man-thing and his bitch aren’t going to be as lucky as you, I hope. You deserve special treatment.” Daniela whispers, her fingers caressing her prey’s tear-stained cheek before swinging the sickle with full forced into the back of Desdemona’s thigh.

Desdemona remembers a high-pitched shriek escaping her but nothing else seems to come to mind after that. She remembers her vision blurring and a creeping darkness soothing her to sleep but what happened after, nothing. She enters the haunting abyss that welcomes her with black tendrils pulling her from reality, sleep coming to her easily. With better luck, she’ll never have to wake up again.

Only fools believe in luck as the nightmare has only just begun.

[21burritoseavey]

Chapter 7 - Slow Down

a/n: heyy, i really hope you like this one! let me know what you think. it’s long again too lol. 

Summary: Daniel and Y/n are best friends, but like every clique love story lol, Daniel fell for Y/n, though he’s never admitted his feelings because Y/n has a boyfriend. After their exams, the group of friends decide to go on a “California-cation” (see what I did there haha) but Y/n’s boyfriend also tags along. It gets a little interesting and I guess you’ll just have to see how things go…

“Dani!” Y/n called out, leaning towards Daniel with outstretched arms and when he came close enough, she lightly tugged at his arm and he took a seat next to hers, basically squished right up beside her if it was for the thin barrier between them. Daniel felt his pulse quicken almost instantly and he slightly shuffled farther away, trying to disguise his nervousness and shaky breaths as he placed the flashlight down. The group of friends were sitting around a bonfire that Zach and Jack very proudly took credit for and moments later Grayson appeared with two large blankets in his arms. 

 “Hey baby” Grayson said tenderly as he approached Y/n, sitting down next to her. He pulled her hands out of her pockets to gently hold them and placed a kiss on her lips softly. Y/n giggled as he pulled away and he draped the blanket over her body, pulling her into his side with a secure arm. Though, mere moments later, he pulled out his phone, typing away just above Y/n’s head so she didn’t notice. 

 “Wassup guysss! Let’s have some funnnn!” Zach slurred his words as he trudged over, raising everyone’s eyebrows at the sight of him. His hot pink robe swayed with the gentle breeze and purple slippers sunk into the grass with every step he took. Daniel tried his best to muffle his giggles with his hoodie lifted above his mouth. Almost everybody stared at Zach with nothing but happy smiles and genuine laughter escaping from their lips. 

 “Zach, dude” Corbyn paused for a second to compose himself, “are those your pyjamas?” 

 “If you must know, yes these are my pyjamas.” Zach said confidently, pulling both sides of his robe together and tying it. He took a seat on a foldable chair next to Daniel. 

 “You comfy?” Daniel asked, giggling gently. 

 Zach crossed his legs. “Very.” He answered blankly. 

 Jonah clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “I don’t know about everyone else but I’m starving” he dragged out with a slight chuckle and everyone else agreed instantly. 

 “Oh, I got it. That was my job.” Jack got up and went over to his bag, pulling out only bags of lollies. He walked over to the middle, “K so I got Sour Patch Kids, Trolli-”. 

 Jonah groaned, throwing his hands in the air with frustration. “Please tell me you didn’t just bring bags of candy?!” Jack stayed quiet, hesitantly passing a small bag of sour candy to Zach which he zealously accepted. 

 “We’re foodless? This is a tragedy.” Corbyn complained, lolling his head back on his foldable chair.   

Y/n murmured from her place in Grayson’s arms, tucked comfortably with the blanket draped lazily over her legs. “Don’t worry, guys” She got up, heading to one of the tents. Shortly thereafter, she came back with a bag of marshmallows and a bar of chocolate. “I never go into the woods without being able to make s’mores, it’s practically illegal” she said with a giggle. Everyone thanked her gladly as she passed around the bag of marshmallows. 

 Daniel’s gaze remained on Y/n as she passed him the bag and he grasped her arm gently, caressing it with his thumb. “You’re a lifesaver,” he said honestly with a grin. 

 Y/n laughed, “It’s okay...but I didn’t bring sticks” She frowned at the rest of the group. 

 “Oh, we got it, right guys?” Corbyn glanced at the boys who all nodded knowingly. 

 Daniel furrowed his eyebrows, “we don’t need four boys to go get sticks…” He joked quietly, leaning in closer to Y/n, who got back to her seat. 

 “Haha, yea…” Y/n faded out, pulling the blanket around her. She watched the fire silently as sparks tumbled upwards into the dark atmosphere. Daniel’s eyes lingered on her figure, cheeks infused with rosy, pink, dimpled with an unfeigned smile. His content expression faltered when he saw Y/n slightly quivering, even though she was sheltered in a soft, woven cocoon. 

 “Y/n, you cold?” He asked, placing a hand gently on her arm. 

 She smiled, “yeah, I didn’t think it’d be this cold in summer” she giggled bashfully. She turned to Grayson. Once again, his eyes were glued to his phone and his fingers typed away aimlessly.  “Hey, Gray…” Grayson looked up a moment late, almost angrily at his girlfriend. 

 “What do you…” He began, clearly irritated, though he quieted down when he noticed Daniel’s eyes glaring into his seriously. He cleared his throat before continuing, “What’s up baby?” He pushed a strand of her brunette hair from her forehead and kissed the same spot gently. 

 Y/n looked at him confused, and even as she felt his gentle kiss, her frown didn’t break. “Uh, can you grab my beanie?” She asked hesitantly, adding a “please” at the end. Grayson nodded lightly, peppering small kisses on her lips and forehead as if to smooth out the grooves etched in her soft skin. 

His phone buzzed repeatedly moments later beside her and the persistent flashes of the screen  made Y/n trail out of her light trance and she slightly shifted in her spot to reach over and grab it. 

 “Hey, Gray!” Y/n called out gently. “You got a text from-.” She was cut off before she could even see the small contact’s name on his phone when Grayson appeared in what felt like milliseconds, standing tall in front of her. 

 “Yeah, thanks babe” Grayson said quickly. “Here’s your beanie.” He said sweetly, placing it gently on her head before pulling it down to fit just right on her head. 

 “Daniel.” Zach whispered, tapping Daniel’s shoulder to get his attention. He shot his head up, straightening his back and widening his eyes at the touch of his bandmate's hand. Daniel glared at the boy in front of him, sheer confusion etched in his face. 

 “You scared the crap out of me!” He whispered sharply, glancing over at the other boys behind him. “What do you guys want?”

 “Relax, dude...just come with us. But don’t tell Y/n.” Daniel huffed. He knew better than to listen to his cheeky bandmates but figured that his mood could only get better from there. He shifted his body, turning back to Y/n with a gentle smile. 

 “I’m gonna try and find a bathroom somewhere...or something” Daniel said casually with a chuckle. Y/n turned to him, looking up from her phone. 

 “Good luck!” She replied. With that, Daniel reluctantly got up from his chair and followed the boys who were a few paces ahead of him. They led him further into the woods, decorated with tall, scrawny trees and bushes that itched his legs. “We’re walking in the woods, in the dark. Great” Daniel muttered quietly as he trudged behind the boys. 

 They had finally stopped in an area where they couldn’t see Grayson and Y/n, but if Daniel squinted hard enough, he could still make out Y/n’s oversized hoodie and her woolly green beanie.

 “Daniel.” Jack started, still wearing his pastel dyed pyjamas. “We’re gonna prank Gray and Y/n.” He informed, revealing two clown face masks that were hidden behind his back. Daniel took one quick glance at the items in Jack’s hands and shook his head.

 “No.” He replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not doing that. Y/n’s terrified of clowns. I can’t do that to her.” 

 “C’mon Daniel, lighten up!” Jonah retorted gently.

Daniel scoffed, “Jonah? Is that you?” He rubbed his eyes jokingly. “I know you’re not exactly the ‘prank type of person’ but you’re agreeing with this?” He flailed his arm out, gesturing to the masks in Jack’s hands. 

 “You’re right, I’m not a fan of them. But I couldn’t just sit and watch you be an awkward third wheel.” He said with a chuckle. “Let’s just have some fun. That was the whole point of this trip.” He argued. 

 “Fine.” Daniel surrendered. “Why do you even have those anyway? You didn’t think to bring food, but you brought clown masks” Daniel teased gently. “Classic Jack” He tisked and the boys chuckled. Jack glared at him with his jaw practically on the floor before he broke out into laughter as well. 

 With fierce determination from most boys and a somewhat clear game plan the bandmates tiptoed back to where Grayson and Y/n were still cuddled up and basking in each other's company. Daniel rolled his eyes at the sight of them but continued sauntering forwards, nearly crab walking - which Zach found extremely funny - to stay hidden. Jack, Zach and Jonah were given the mission of distracting the young couple, so they began walking mischievously. Corbyn carefully followed Daniel, wearing the other identical mask. 

 Jonah turned back quickly. “Wait. We don’t have sticks!” He whispered sharply to the two other boys, who had completely forgotten about the initial task they were given. 

 “Don’t worry, I got this” Zach dismissed him with the wave of his hand and began walking forwards confidently. 

 “Guys! Guys!” He ran up to the young couple, halting in front of them. Zach could see Daniel and Corbyn crouched behind the couple but remained focused and the skid of his shoes sent dirt flying into Grayson’s face. His serious expression faltered, and he broke out into giggles as Grayson angrily dragged his palm across his face. Yet, at just the right moment, Daniel and Corbyn stood up behind them, shrieking loudly. 

 Both of them shot up and stared at them wide eyed and virtually paralysed to the spot, the horrifying appearance of the fake clowns holding them in a tightening grip. Grayson, who was leaning backwards on his palms, had his very breath sucked from his mouth and he swore he felt his heart beating in his ears. 

 The boys laughed loudly at their frightened faces and the two boys took off their masks quickly sitting back down in their seats as they joked to each other. Y/n groaned after realizing it was a prank and hid her face with her hands, pulling up the blanket over her head. Grayson, on the other hand, merely huffed loudly in annoyance and his gaze made a quick return to his phone screen. Daniel diverted his attention from the boys to Y/n. His lips curved downwards into a pout, and he jogged over to the side of Y/n’s seat. He slowly caressed her hair, “Y/n…” he spoke nervously, true concern laced in his quiet voice. 

 Jonah noticed Daniel and Y/n and smacked the boys to shut them up. Their talking and laughter stopped immediately, and their hands habitually grazed the back of their necks or landed in their pockets in embarrassment as they stood there silently. 

Meanwhile, Daniel kneeled at Y/n’s side, urging her to pull down the blanket while he apologised profusely. Sure enough, Y/n slowly lifted the blanket off her face, revealing her feigned sad expression. Daniel furrowed his brow, “you, okay?” he asked. Y/n couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore and she broke, shrieking with laughter. “Oh my gosh.” Daniel huffed in relief, his lips finally melting into a faint smile. 

 “Wait, guys. Where are the sticks?” Y/n asked, looking at the boys expectantly. 

“Ughh!” They groaned simultaneously, trudging back into the woods with slouched shoulders. Y/n merely giggled sassily, sneaking a glance at Grayson who didn’t look too thrilled. 

--- 

Daniel sat alone watching the weak fire quietly in the darkness. The crumpled, piece of paper laid in his hands. The soothing breeze calmed his racing thoughts and he absorbed himself in the melody of crickets and light swooshing of trees, letting the gentle aura of nature course through his body. He dropped his gaze to the earthy ground beneath him when he heard footsteps. Through the corner of his eye to see Jonah, walking over with his hands in his pockets and his hood up. 

 Jonah knew exactly what was going on with his best friend as soon as he saw the familiar piece of paper in his hands.

 “How is camping so far?” He tried gently as he sat beside Daniel. 

 “It’s quiet... which means more thinking about y/n” He spoke quietly, not even a trickle of hesitation in his voice. Jonah sighed tiredly, eyes lingering on Daniel. 

 “I want her, Jonah.” Daniel whimpered, trying his best not to break out into tears. “And I know I shouldn’t, but I do” “It’s so stupid!” He said in exasperation, holding his head in his hands, elbows leaning on his knees. 

 “Dani, It's not stupid. You can’t fight how you feel.” Jonah said, smacking his hand to Daniel’s shoulder. 

 “It just hurts so bad. And I hate it because I want to be happy for her, I really do but I just can’t!” He whimpered, looking at Jonah, who urged him to continue with a small nod. “I mean the guy couldn’t even take a joke back there. I can take two, three, five hundred jokes! And I can sing and play instruments and juggle and-” Jonah chuckled gently, interrupting Daniel from his rambling and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Listen, I know that’s not what’s important. But I can love better than he can. I can make her so happy.” He paused, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m sure of it.” He finished. 

 “And I’m sure of it too.” Jonah replied, rubbing his hand up and down Daniel’s back soothingly. “I don’t have a perfect, magical answer that will make your hurt go away but I know that what’s meant to be, will be. You’ll get your chance to tell her how you feel okay? It’s all written in that letter anyway, right?” Jonah asked. 

 “Right.” Daniel replied, gazing at Jonah blankly. 

 “So, you know how you feel. You just need to tell her at the right time, and everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Jonah reassured soothingly. Daniel nodded with a deep sigh, and he straightened his back. 

 “Let’s get some sleep, okay?” Jonah said lightly. 

“Okay.” Daniel said quietly as he got up from his seat. 

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XX

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing probably,

• • •

The sounds of crickets and the distant sound of an owl somewhere in the woods was pretty much the only things you could hear from your position by the control box. Other than the occasional very soft sound of someone’s clothing moving as they moved or shifted their weight. 

Lucas was next to you, leaning against the box. Everyone had remained silent after Jonathan and Nancy got into the car and drove up to the lab. 

“Is Will your dad?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Looking down at Lucas, his arms were crossed, and he was looking up at you with a mixed look of frustration and sadness. 

“What makes you think that?” Your voice was equally as quiet.

“You fell through a hole, ended up in the Upside Down and then crawled out in a different time period, that is, if you’re telling the truth. And you just said that you and Jonathan are family. “

Looking down at the pavement you sighed a bit, lifting up your backpack that was mostly empty. But, Steve forgot to empty out the smallest pocket in the bag, where you usually kept your school ID, and some extra cash in a wallet. It was the same one you’d had from home. 

Taking the pale faux yellow wallet out, you zipped it open, hesitating for a second, looking at the middle compartment you always refused to open. 

But, by all rights except blood, Lucas was your uncle. He’d sneak you cash at theme parks whenever all of you got together for the summer. You still remembered your fathers telling him he didn’t need to, and yet, he persisted. 

Opening the center compartment of the wallet you pulled out a small photo taken from an instax camera, of you and your dad. Often you forgot you had it. 

You didn’t look at it, but you just handed it to him. You’d been in sixth grade at some place for a field trip that he volunteered to chaperone. 

Lucas took it from you and looked at the photo. Your hair had been cut short, and you were clearly younger in the photo. And your dad had a smile on his face, an arm around your shoulders in a protective manner, his hair loosely styled, so a strand was in his face. 

And ever since this young version of your uncle Lucas met you, he thought you actually looked truly happy. Unbothered, like a normal kid with normal dreams and oblivious to the future or past she’d have to endure.

“This is Will?” It was obvious, but he still asked anyway, feeling the need to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Yeah. That’s my dad.” 

“Who’s your mom?”

Shaking your head a bit you closed your wallet, not taking the photo back. “Her name’s Anne.” 

“Don’t you want this?” He asked, holding the photo out to you. Looking at it for a split second you could almost hear the clanging of a baking sheet while your dad placed it on the stove to make those halloween cookies every year. And you could see the burnt edges creeping towards the pumpkin in the center. It was no secret that Will was a good cook, but terrible at baking and trying to put premade things in the oven. 

“Not really.” 

“But he’s your dad-”

“And I don’t know him anymore.” It was dramatic, but it was true. It had been over a year since you last saw him as you wanted to remember him. If you’d known that being in that restaurant would be the last time you’d see him, you wouldn’t have yelled at Pa, you would’ve taken it all in, you would have said your goodbyes, and tried to remember how your fathers and little brother looked in the moment. 

You went over to Steve who was leaning against the yellow post at the other side of the box, hitting the butt of the flashlight on his palm. “Hey,” You breathed out.

Looking up at you, he smiled a bit. “Hi,” 

“Guys?”

Max was staring at the drive that lead up to the lab, and you could hear the sound of tires against the pavement. Looking over you saw Jonathan’s car and Hopper’s truck speeding towards them. 

Reaching over you grabbed Max as Steve grabbed Lucas and Dustin, pulling them out of the way. Jonathan sped past you, but Hopper stopped, looking at you five through the open passenger window. 

“Let’s go!”

Steve opened the door, rushing you and the middle schoolers into the back, with the three of them behind you, and you, leaning between the two front seats, as Steve got into the passenger side.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

“The gate, it’s wide open, and letting things through.” 

“Jesus.”

• • •

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub you had your head in your hands, only seeing your knees, the tile, and a few strands of hair that fell around your face in a type of curtain. 

You were convinced that from the day you were born, you’d admired and looked up to your dad. He was one of many male figures in your life. He gave you good morals, and taught you to be strong, how to be you, and not to let anyone control you. 

His biggest fear when you were growing up was that a man would try and control you, or that anyone who had a power dynamic with you, would try and manipulate you. But he was always paranoid. 

You had another thing to admire him for- bringing two kids into a world that he knew was fucked. Being confident enough in himself and Pa that they could protect you and Daniel. That you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Closing your eyes you concentrated, lowering yourself onto the floor, hugging yourself and grasping onto Steve’s jacket. You wanted to know how he’d done it. Gotten through such a fucked up time in his life at such a young age. How any of them did. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Max. You were older, and all you wanted to do was close your eyes and disappear. 

Opening your eyes, everything around you was black, with about an inch of water around your feet. But ahead of you, you could see a familiar looking table, with familiar looking cookies, and a few pieces of cloth on the table. 

You saw your uncle Dustin sitting at the table, while your uncle Lucas sat across from him. 

“Should we tell them?” Lucas asked, looking down at something beside him. Slowly walking over, you could see a stroller next to him, an older baby in the seat, dressed in yellow and pink, with a blue sippy cup gripped tightly in their hands. They were maybe a year old. 

“You’re insane.” Dustin responded.  

Finally you placed it. It was one of the tables at the coffee shop you’d always gone to on Fridays with your dad. And the cloth on the table was a set of dirty baby clothes that had been neatly folded. 

“What?”

“We can’t. You know that. Will’s already terrified enough as it is, you don’t want him turning their condo into a baby friendly prison, do you?” 

Lucas’ face changed a bit as he looked down at the baby again. You could hear a muffled voice call out an order, and watched as Dustin got up, leaving Lucas sitting with an infant who was half asleep. 

He leaned over to the baby, unbuckling them from the seat and pulling them into his arms. “Hey, princess.” He greeted her with a sad smile. He stayed quiet, letting the baby lean against his shoulder, the sippy cup still in a death grip, almost empty, and you assumed that the infant was just a little too happy about having been given what looked like apple juice

But when you looked at her arm, you saw the birthmark you once had, the one that, after you burnt your arm, disappeared. 

It was you. 

You were a chubby baby.

Who wouldn’t let go of her juice even though Lucas tried to put it on the table. 

“Okay, I won’t take it.” He relented, pushing her messy hair back, watching as she began to drink from the bottle. “You’re gonna be strong one day, you know that?” He was quiet about it. “One of the strongest women I ever met. And brave.”

The baby looked up at him, done drinking.

“You remain kind, somehow. You’re going to be so loving and compassionate that sometimes, it’s annoying. You’re gonna save a lot of people, so don’t hold onto the guilt, don’t let it hurt you, or hold you back. You’re gonna go-”

“Y/n?” Opening your eyes, Steve was kneeling down in front of you. “Do you know what the hell a Mind Flayer is?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded. You played DnD so often before that you knew plenty of the creatures, and the bosses you could fight, not to mention your dad talked about them all the time when helping you plan DnD games with the four friends you would hang out with. “Yeah, it takes over people’s brains. Wants to conquer shit like It's a British empire, why does that matter?” 

Looking over to the doorway you saw almost everyone peaking into the bathroom, staring at the two of you. 

“Steve? What’s going on?” 

Looking back at Steve, you saw that he was looking at them too, a hand holding your arm before he focused on you. “Did you have episodes? Like Will’s?” 

You nodded, slowly. Sitting up a bit more, your hand grabbing the one on your arm. How did he know about those? Did somebody tell him?

“When did they stop?” 

“A day or two, after Halloween.”

“Did you have one on Halloween?” Mike asked, suddenly pushing past Dustin and into the room, next to Steve. 

The memory of sitting in your shower, sobbing before it ended and you found Steve in your living room.

“Yeah. . . Why?”

“This Mind Flayer. . . you said it felt like it wanted to kill you?” Hopper asked.

“Wait, are we calling that weird cloud thingy Will and I saw a Mind Flayer?” You inquired. 

Everyone looked at each other, exchanging looks. But then you realized what Hopper said about Will. And the day he started acting weird. The same day you had your last episode. 

“It’s in Will, isn’t it? So. . . if it spies on us, through Will. . . is he gonna try and kill me?” 

“That’s the leading theory.” 

Within a few minutes, you were tucked away in a corner of the kitchen, looking out the window as the shed was basically torn apart, with everything pulled out, so they could take Will in there. 

You didn’t know why the Mind Flayer wanted to hurt you, if it even did. But you were scared, and as usual, you wanted your dad. 

Watching as Steve and Nancy helped Hopper take everything out, you climbed onto the kitchen counter, basically sitting in the empty sink and taking in the backyard that would be a pain to clean up. 

What was El up to? Last you saw her, you told her to ‘call’ you if Hopper agreed to trick or treating. And by call, you meant manipulating your radio in the Volkswagen. But that never happened and so you didn’t get to take her trick or treating like she wanted to. 

“Steve compared the Mind Flayer to Germans.” Jonathan spoke up, walking over to you , handing you a glass of water. 

“You mean. . . Arian Nazies?” You furrowed your brows, looking up at your uncle who shook his head. 

“No, I mean Germans. He said Germans. Dustin called him on it.” Smiling a bit you nodded, looking down at the ice water. Steve could have stupid moments. Especially when he hadn’t gotten sleep since the night before, when you’d gone to Dustin’s cellar. 

A comfortable silence took over, except for the rustling outside where they were setting the shed up to hold Will in. But you knew something was on Jonathan’s mind. You were family after all. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking over to him. 

He shrugged, shaking his head a bit. He fought with himself for a split second before finally talking. “You’ve been here for over a year, and it’s kinda obvious to everyone.” 

“What’s obvious?” You asked, an amused smile on your face while you tilted your head. 

He gave a look, reaching out to your arm and tugging a bit at the sleeve of the jacket. “It’s like 50 degrees outside, and he still let you keep the jacket, even though the radiator’s on.”

You shrugged, “Steve’s forgetful, and when he’s tired he doesn’t seem to remember what kind of weather it is outside.” excusing it you looked at the window, not quite knowing what Jonathan was trying to get at. 

“You know that about him. According to Nancy he knows you usually get from the gas station, and that your favorite movie is Red Dawn after he took you to see it-”

“Nancy wouldn’t have gone, it’s a war movie-”

“Y/n,” he started in a firm, yet affectionate tone as he took the glass from you, setting it on the counter. “You’ve been friends since last year, and he cares about you. A lot.” You were going to say that it was because you were friends, but you knew he would have stopped you. 

“You’re both oblivious.” he scoffed in an amused tone, handing you the water again, before walking out into the backyard. 

Hopping out of the sink, you followed after him, leaving the glass. 

Zipping up the jacket you caught up with Jonathan, grabbing onto his arm and following him to the clothes line where Joyce was taking clothes down so they could use the rope. 

“Jonathan, what are you talking about?” 

You were confused, and frankly? A bit worried. Everything that was going on, and Jonathan was being cryptic and ominous about your friendship with Steve. Talking about the way you guys treated each other and knew things and trusted each other in ways that plenty of other people didn’t. 

Like how you knew that when he cried, it sounded like his entire heart was shattering, and that he wouldn’t be able to put it back together. And how you trusted him to get you home when you were drunk off your ass on New Years eve. How he trusted you enough to share things he usually didn’t, so much to the point where he’d cry in front of you and go to you for comfort, just like you would with him, if everything ever made you cry didn’t revolve around your biggest mistake. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights, clinging onto the hem of the jacket, and staring at the wet grass. 

Was it obvious to everyone else? That you’d trust Steve with your life more than your grandma? More than Hopper? Was it obvious because you didn’t hesitate to punch him when he was being homophobic with Jonathan after committing a hate crime? A hate crime that you tried to make him go fix, that he eventually did after running from the cops. 

Was it obvious because you forgave him so quickly right afterwards? 

You didn’t know where it started or where it ended. 

Was Jonathan implying that you had feelings for your best friend who, time wise, was almost forty years older than you, but biologically only two? 

Or were you making that up in your head? Drawing assumptions of what other people thought without reason? 

But if that was what Jonathan thought, then did you have feelings for Steve? 

No, no of course not, he was just a friend. Right?

• • • 

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @nxncywheeler​ @yllwtaxi​ @songofcosplay​ @potatopooper05​ @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​  @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes​ @random-thoughts-003​ @mochminnie  @abbyg217​​ @stevexscoops​​ @cashmereandtears​​ @iris-suoh​​  @supred12​

[jungle321jungle]

Virgil’s Guide To Avoid Accidentally Falling In Love With Your Boss’ Boss: Step Seven

Virgil’s just trying to fake his way through life, but when he finds it hard to shake his hot boss’ boss’s attention- on account of their adopted sons being twins- things get complicated.

Ao3

~~~~

Step Seven: Absolutely Do Not Say It

Virgil had been having a bad day. A bad week. A bad weeks?  

That wasn’t grammar. But then again nothing made sense anymore. Virgil wasn’t entirely sure what time was or what it meant anymore. He had too much to think about and get done to focus on anything else.

The root of all his issues could be traced to work unsurprisingly. He had been given the opportunity to take the lead on a project, which was good and fine. Until he had learned that he would need to present in front of the CEO. And then the person he was working closest with was called overseas so they could only work over video call at absurd hours. And it’s not like this needed to be perfect or anything, because it wasn’t like the CEO was going to have a company party the evening after Virgil’s presentation so Virgil would have to face him twice. 

So yeah work was a mess. 

Virgil was just lucky that Dee was obligated to be on his side.  

“Damnit,” Virgil muttered searching through his suitcase. Finally he gave a sigh and turned to Dee who was watching him. “I’m gonna have to run to my place.”

“It’s almost one am,” Dee said in confusion.  

Virgil nodded and grabbed his keys, “I left stuff in my desk, and this is the only time Daniel is free so we can work.”

“When do you plan on sleeping though?” 

“When I’m done.”

Dee gave a sigh but it was clear to see he didn’t agree, “Alright. Do you want me to make some coffee for when you get back?”

“No, no, you get some sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Virgil entered his own home with a yawn and out of reflex he flipped the switch before he remembered his power was out. What was this, day five now without electricity? The power outage had been a result of a storm and a few other things going wrong and it had succeeded in leaving Virgil’s street without power. But given it seemed there were more important places on the street who deserved power than him and his neighbors. 

Thankfully Dee had allowed Virgil and Roman to stay with him, but Virgil couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty. He shook his head to ignore the thoughts and instead turned on his phone flashlight and moved to his room. Inside he went to the desk and began grabbing whatever files could possibly be important and shoved them in a bag. He glanced at the clock hoping he could make it back to Dee’s before Daniel called.  

~~~~

“Okay spill.”

Virgil looked up from his lunch confused to see his coworkers has gathered around him, “Spill what?”

“You and the Boss!” Liam said sitting across from the table. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Uh? She gave me corrections on the project?”

 “N-not her! You and Ekans! You guys are crazy close.”

Virgil gave a sigh, “We are raising our kids.”

“You guys are still close.”

“Is there something more going on?” Someone else chimed in.  

“Are you together?” Asked a third. 

Virgil gave a groan. 

“Did you come to my office to simply groan on my couch, or did you come to make out on my desk?”

“Neither!” Virgil answered turning to Dee’s smirking face, wishing his blush would go away. “I just needed a break from people asking me what our relationship is.”

Dee raised an eyebrow, “So to get them to stop questioning us... you came to my office?”

Virgil paused, “I’m tired Dee. Don’t ask me to do things that make sense.”

Dee shrugged and turned his attention to his desktop, “You could just tell them all we’re together.”

“Nope. They freaked when they thought you were playing favorites before. What will they do when they find out I’m your actual favorite?” 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever said you were.”

“I am if you want this to work. And you said before that you didn’t want others to know with your ex lurking in the shadows.” 

“Well it’s been over a month and he’s backed off. And I don’t think he lurks. And you’re much more the lurking the type to be honest. Plus if we admit it, that means I can one hundred percent kiss you whenever I feel like it.”

“I don’t think that would be very professional.”

Dee looks up from his computer with a smile, “So? Long as it’s not with the CEO what is anyone going to do? They’re all pretty scared of me.”

“I...I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“I do.”

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

 “If you need ideas we could start with you climbing on my desk and-” 

“No.”

~~~~ 

Virgil blinked, “Huh?”

“I just wanted to speak with you a bit if that’s alright,” Mr. Hart said again. “Perhaps just for a bit when you come to pick Roman up?”

Virgil nodded slowly in agreement, “Um, alright...”

The teacher gave him a large smile which didn’t do too much to call Virgil’s nerves. 

What could Roman’s teacher possibly want to speak to him privately about? Had Roman been acting out? Were kids being mean to him? Was he struggling? If he was, why hadn’t Roman told him?

“I can hear you thinking,” Dee commented as they walked back to his car. 

“Mr. Hart wants to speak with me,” Virgil yawned. “I don’t know what about though.” 

“Well I doubt it’s anything too serious,” Dee tried. “He called me in a few weeks ago to tell me that Remus kept trying to eat magnets... I have tried so many times to get him to stop.”

Virgil chuckled, “I have multiple questions about that.” 

Dee sighed, “Logan once used a magnet to pick up a fork or something, and ever since Remus seems convinced that if eats magnets he’ll get magnet powers. Doesn't matter that he’s been trying for years and only succeeded in making me drive to the emergency room.” 

“At least he’s persistent?” 

“Sure. Anyway, my point is, I doubt it's serious.”

“I’m pretty sure eating magnets counts as serious."

“Yes but I have the chaotic twin, you don’t.”

Virgil paused as climbed in Dee’s car, “Is it wrong that I feel a tad better?”

 Dee shrugged, “Hell if I know.”

His nerves were running high. 

Well higher than usual. Well no he had already been worried about work so they had doubled. Or was it more than that? What exactly was math again?

“Dad!” The sounds of Roman’s voice was an instant relaxer. He smiled and bent down to give his son a hug.

“Have a good day?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“I did.”

“But why’d you come inside? Usually you pick me up in the pick up line.” 

Virgil nodded, “That’s true, but this morning when I walked you in to help carry your project? Your teacher said he wanted to talk to me for a few minutes. So why don’t you head with Remus and Dee to get Logan from his class, while I talk to Mr. Hart?” 

Roman frowned, “I didn’t do anything.”

Virgil smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair, “I believe you.”

Roman still seemed skeptical of the situation, but he joined Remus and Dee and left the room. There were only two students left- but they were gathering their things- and their teacher Mr. Hart who gave Virgil a friendly smile and wave. 

Virgil gave an awkward one back as he approached where the man was erasing a whiteboard, “Hi... Mr. Hart.” 

“Hi and just call me Patton,” he greeted. “How was your day?”

Virgil resisted the urge to say he had been stressing about this all day and instead said: “It was fine. You?”

“I’m good- hi Mindy!” He waved as a woman entered the door. 

The woman exchanged a greeting before the two kids left with her talking excitedly about after school. In other words, leaving Virgil and Patton alone. 

“You wanted to talk to me?” Virgil asked awkwardly. 

The teacher nodded and turned to lean back against the board so he could watch Virgil with concern filled eyes. “Roman told me something kind of... disconcerting,” he started gently. 

Virgil gave a swallow as he nodded for the man to go on. “What about?”

“About you.”

This was it. The end of the road. There must have been some type of miscommunication. And now the teacher must think Virgil would harm his son? Is that what this was about? Would- Would Roman be taken away- no no no. He forced the line of thinking away. “What about me?”

“He said that you weren’t sleeping,” the teacher said catching Virgil off guard. “That you have barely been eating, and that you seem worried all the time... Roman is really worried about you. And now I can’t help but be worried either.”

Virgil wasn’t sure how to function well enough to respond. It felt like a kick in the chest.  

Had he really been causing his son so much worry? So much pain?

“I know you don’t really know me but I’m always willing to listen,” Patton said in Virgil silence. He moved to his desk and pulled something out a drawer and scribbled something on it before holding it out for Virgil to take. “If you ever just want to talk about anything and get coffee or something, just let me know. Okay, kiddo?”

Virgil slowly, “O-okay.”

“Is it over?” Roman asked when Virgil joined them in front of the school. 

“Did he get in trouble?” Remus asked. 

“No one’s in trouble,” Virgil replied looking down to Roman before he pulled his confused boy into a hug. “Just reminded that I’ve got great kid.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Roman smiled hugging him back. 

“You alright?”

Virgil looked up from where he had been spinning the teacher’s business card in his hands to where Dee was sitting across the couch from him. “I’m fine, why?”

“Because you’ve seen shaken since we left the school. And you kept staring at that number. Don’t tell me he hit on you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and looked to where the boys were playing some sort of game before he pocketed the card. “He told me that Roman’s been saying that he’s worried about me. My sleeping and eating habits I mean. I... I didn’t realize he could tell.” 

“He’s smart,” Dee shrugged. “And it’s not exactly as if you’re hiding it... I’m worried about you too.” 

“Once I’m done with this project,” Virgil lied. Lie. He knew it was one. Because there would always be more work to do. 

Dee could see through the lie but instead he sighed and changed the direction of the conversation, “Why did he give you his number?” 

“Incase I wanted to talk? He suggested getting coffee.”

“You should talk to him.”

Virgil frowned, “I don’t know...”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Do you want me to run through each of the scenarios?”

Dee gave a sigh, “How about this, tell me when the last time you hung out with your friends was?”

Virgil’s gaze fell to his hands, “I-I... don’t have any.”

“Huh? What about-” 

“Everyone at the office doesn’t mind my presence when I’m there, but they’d never talk to me outside of work. There’s the other parents, but it’s clear they don’t like me that much. And your friends are yours... so yeah, I-” he gave a short laugh at his own absurdity. “I don’t have any friends here.”

He felt stupid. He felt pathetic. 

He felt lonely. 

Yes he had Dee and he had Roman, but other than that he had no one. Definition of pathetic right?

Dee’s hug wasn’t helping. It didn’t change the loneliness in Virgil’s heart and yet it was still appreciated. 

“You should meet you with him,” Dee said after a pause. 

Virgil chose to lean into his boyfriend’s chest instead of reply.  

“He seems like a nice person,” Dee tried again. “And it would be good for you to do something for you.”

“I do things for me.”

“Like what? To me it seems like you do everything to make Roman happy, and then a lot to make me and my boys happy, but what do you do to make yourself happy?” 

“I’m happy when you guys are happy. That’s... that's all I need.”

Virgil felt as Dee gave a sigh, “Virgil...”

“Fine... If- if I say I’ll text him will you drop it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine.”

~~~~

Virgil arrived early. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but here he sat fifteen minutes early in the corner of this cafe. 

He swirled the coffee in his cup as he stared purely as something to do. He was still doing just that when Patton appeared at the other side of the table, a large smile on his face. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you actually texted me!”

Virgil nodded awkwardly, “Um yeah... I can buy you something to drink?” 

“No no kiddo. I can pay for myself, I’ll be right back. Did you want something?”

“I’m still working on this one.”

“It’s kind of funny getting to talk to you actually,” Patton commented when he returned and sat down. “I usually just get to know parents through their kids. I don’t have actual conversations with them often.”

“Only when something’s wrong?” Virgil guessed.

“Or when something is really good. But how are you?”

“Fine I guess, you?”

“I’m good.” There was a short pause and Virgil spent it wondering when the man would just get to the point and began hammering into Virgil about taking care of himself, but instead he just asked, “Can I call you Virgil? Or do you prefer Mr. Storm?”

“V-Virgil is fine...”

He nodded satisfied, “Perfect. You have anything fun planned coming up, Virgil? Roman was saying you were going to a party or something.” 

“Yeah, um work is going to be having a fancy party next week. But um... does he talk about me a lot?”

“All the time. It’s clear you’re his favorite person.”

“Remus is his favorite person,” Virgil disagreed quickly.  

Patton looked surprised but he shook his head, “No, you’re definitely his favorite. He said so himself in an essay about his role model.”

Virgil could’ve died happy in that moment.  

The rest of time proceeded with conversation which evolved from talk about Roman, to talk about Virgil, to everything that was bothering Virgil. It was strange being able to so easily talk to another person. It was like Patton had bewitched him with his smile and forced Virgil to trust him. 

And the worst part was that Virgil wasn’t even upset about it.  

~~~~

“Virgil.”

The seriousness of Dee’s voice caused Virgil to look up in surprise from where he had been fidgeting with his blazer, “What?” He asked worriedly. “Do I look stupid?” 

Dee looked confused at the question, “No, you look amazing, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“This!” Dee shouted holding Virgil’s phone. “Patton texted you.”

Virgil looked at the screen and read the text aloud, “Have fun tonight.”

“It’s not fair,” Dee declared. “You two have been friends for a week and you’re texting casually. Meanwhile you only text me now and then.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I have literally been in the same room as you all day.” 

“But that was at work during your presentation.”

“I’m sorry, did you want me to stop talking to the CEO in order to text you back?”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

Virgil paused, “I don’t know even know how to respond to that. So instead can we go to the party?”

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes it is.” 

~~~~

The party was going... fine?

Once they had arrived Dee had split to go entertain the CEO and placate him while Virgil had been left to his coworkers. But at least there was an open bar. 

“Storm?”

Virgil turned and gave a polite smile to the man who had called his name. It was a man from accounting, but Virgil could not for the life of him remember the man’s name. “Hi.” 

“Hey Bryan,” someone else said thankfully. 

Bryan gave a nod, “How are all of you?”

Virgil mumbled a “good” and listened to others talk before a comment caught him off guard. 

“Oh, did you not bring a date Storm?”

“Virgil very single,” Liam answered for him. 

“And very gay,” Marie added. 

“That’s not needed,” Virgil replied awkwardly as he noticed Bryan take a step closer.  

“Someone would pass on you, Virgil?” Bryan asked in surprise.  

Virgil wished he was drunk, “I’m really not looking for anything right now.” 

But unfortunately the conversation and forced flirting continued while Virgil stood awkwardly in between until after way too long Virgil managed to escape to the lobby with the excuse of wanting to call the babysitter.  

He gave a sigh and sat down in a chair and pulled out his phone. 

After about ten minutes he rose from his seat to head back inside but unfortunately Bryan crossed his path before he could escape inside.  

“Call go well?” Bryan asked.

Virgil nodded, “Yeah, he’s- he’s getting ready for bed...”

“How old is your son?” He asked casually, making no move to let Virgil walk away without conversation.  

“He’s seven... um, do you have kids?”

“No, just me. Figured I’d take the dive on that when I meet the right one.”

“That makes sense...” 

“So... do you-” 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted. “Um Bryan? Look you seem nice and all, but um...”

“Hm?”

“I’m actually seeing someone. I just haven’t told everyone.” 

The man’s eyes widened and then he gave an understanding nod. “Oh...”

Virgil mumbled another apology and ducked back inside. 

The party was finally winding down when Virgil met up with Dee. Virgil and coworkers seemed to have the same idea as his boyfriend and were grabbing a final drink before the bar closed.  

“Hey,” he greeted. 

Dee nodded and took a swig from his glass, “Hi... Have a good night?”

Virgil shrugged, “It was fine. I-”

“Virgil!” Marie interjected. “Bryan is leaving. You should talk to him first.”

Virgil gave a grimace, “I’m really not interested.” 

“Have some fun! It doesn’t have to be serious.”

“Look really I-”

“He’s not interested,” Dee interrupted from behind Virgil. “He’s already dating someone.”

Marie’s eyes widened in shock, “Y-you are?”

“Dee,” Virgil warned turning to him, but Dee gave him a serious look in return. 

“I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt, but then I saw him talking to you all night. And it was in that moment, when I wanted to break his face for simply being in your personal space, that I realize that I’m one hundred percent in love with you.” 

Virgil wasn’t sure how function well enough to respond. 

He could feel his face darkening into a blush as he heard the surprised twitters of his coworkers around them.  

“We were supposed to be keeping things quiet,” Virgil mumbled. 

Dee seemed to take that as a challenge, and the next thing he knew Virgil found lips on his. Virgil couldn’t help but kiss the man back before he pulled away. “You’re ridiculous,” Virgil smiled. “But I love you too.”

~~~~

Step Six - Step Seven - Step Eight

Wow the next is the last. Thanks for sticking around.

Taglist:

@pricklyfish777

@aroundofapplesauce

@changeling-ash

@dr-gloom

@emo-does-things

@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot

@vara-albion

@that-guy2

@softest-emo

@starkerparkerx

@figurative-falsehood

@lunasfriendgabby

@i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing

@neon-skates

@thomothy

@himesakura287

@romanisbabey 

@somehowsnakesblog

@camcam774

@oxylillikay

@fioxypurr

@rosiepupper

@fandomloverangel

@pansexual-bastard

@nowitstimeforworldwar1

@modsnow​

@enby-phoenix​

@ashensanity​

@007ardra​

@pheonix-ts-aus​

@killjoy-3000​

@fandomfan315​

@abagfullofdissapointment​

@supersoftsupersleep

[ghostsray]

Danny Zombie

(now that the dannypocalypse is over, here’s my second @phicphight 2020 fic, this time based on @burning-clutch‘s prompt: “Reverse ghosts au. What would the odd ball rogues gallery be if they were human? Or perhaps Phantom turned Fenton? How would the human cast be as ghosts?”)

(word count: 3591) (AO3)

(part 2)

The teenager climbed over the cemetary gates and dropped onto the ground on the other side, being careful not to break her guitar. Not many people found comfort in the burial park, but Ember McLain was not most people. She had decided early on that she was going to be a rockstar. Whenever she found herself stuck on a song, she found that coming to this place helped her clear her mind. She held her guitar in front of her and gazed across the moonlit graves.

In the middle of the night, in a lonely cemetary

Under the gaze of the moonlight, a place that's just for me.

Was that too goth to use as lyrics? She strummed her guitar softly and was about to try working out a melody, but she paused when she heard something. Moaning coming from behind that tree. She walked over to it and looked around. "Ew, gross," she said with a grimace.

The couple who was making out hastily stopped. They blushed, not expecting to get caught, before Johnny glared at Ember and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Ember countered. She smirked and added, "Honestly, I thought you'd be too scared to step foot here at night."

Johnny huffed, but Kitty cut in and explained, "There's no better place for privacy than an empty graveyard...or so we thought."

Ember rolled her eyes and stepped back from their make-out spot. "Whatever," she told them. "I just hope the dead are fine with you two fucking over their graves."

"Like you're one to talk," Johnny retorted. "Playing a concert to corpses?"

Johnny must have meant it as an insult, but Ember thought that sounded like a badass song title. She was about to tell him as such when Kitty suddenly shuddered. "It's cold," she commented.

Johnny gave Kitty a flirty smile that made Ember want to punch his face in. "You want to borrow my jacket?" he smoothly asked.

But Kitty didn't say that as romantic bait. Ember shivered as she, too, felt the cold growing around them. She slung her guitar onto her back and hugged her arms just as the wind picked up. And it picked up strong. Ember had to plant her boots into the soil to keep herself from being buffetted by the gust. Before her, Johnny and Kitty held onto each other.

"A storm?" Kitty exclaimed over the whistle.

Something wasn't right, though. The wind seemed to be converging into one swirling spot right inside this graveyard. Ember turned to face the direction the wind was moving to, her brown hair flying around in her vision. All of a sudden, despite the lack of clouds in the sky, a bolt of blinding green lightning flashed down and neatly struck one grave.

The afterimage of the flash was still lingering in her eyes when the whirlwind faded as quickly as it had started. A split second later, she felt the pressure drop and the breath leave her lungs, as if the earth was sucking up all the air. She shielded her eyes as a second flash of light appeared in the same spot (and this time, she could swear it came from the grave) before the air finally settled back to normal.

Seconds passed. Nobody spoke.

"What the fuck just happened?" Johnny finally broke the silence by saying.

Ember said nothing, only stared at the grave where the lightning had struck. Gingerly, she picked up her feet and began to walk toward it.

"Where are you going?" Kitty called to her. Ember glanced over her shoulder and found the other girl still in Johnny's hold, her dyed hair sticking out wildly from being abused by the wind. She was staring at her with wide, scared eyes.

Ember gulped and kept going. She was now close enough to the grave to make out the name etched onto the tombstone: DANIEL FENTON.

Ember stopped in front of the mound and realized she had no idea what she was doing. Nothing peculiar was evident in the grave, nothing to suggest that it had been hit by the strangely green lightning.

Then--a hand broke through the soil.

A scream rang behind her, one you would expect to come from Kitty but was actually from Johnny. Not that Ember could judge, considering she jumped ten feet in the air and backed away in bewilderment as the hand--the human hand sticking out of a grave--fumbled around for a grip and began to pull the rest of its body out.

Ember removed the guitar from around her shoulders and held it in her hands like a baseball bat, watching the living corpse with baited breath. The soil shuddered, then parted as a dirt-specked head poked through. Black hair, pale skin, and sunken eyes. The eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that were as green and radiant as the light from before. Eyes that stared at Ember.

Ember screamed and swung her guitar at him.

The head bobbed in place comically for a second before it fell limp onto the earth. Ember dropped her guitar/weapon and scampered back. Now that the undead boy was unconscious, Johnny and Kitty gathered up enough courage to approach the grave and stand by Ember's side.

"What the fuck," Ember heard Johnny mutter over and over under his breath.

Ember tensed her muscles to keep them from shaking. Slowly, she moved back closer to the grave. When the body didn't stir, she dropped to her knees and observed him closer. His nostrils were flaring, air coming in and out. Breathing. Somehow, alive. Just to make sure, she tentatively held out a shaking hand and pressed it against his wrist. Her fingers were met with a soft but steady beat.

"He's alive," she said, unable to believe it.

"How?" Kitty asked, voicing the question that was in all their heads. "We just saw him crawl out of a grave."

"I--I dont know."

Ember watched the boy...Daniel Fenton? breathing softly. He looked so young and peaceful, it was hard to imagine he had ever been dead. Ember tightened her grip on the boy's wrist. Then she stood up and started to pull him the rest of the way out.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Johnny exclaimed. "That's literally a zombie."

"He's not a zombie," Ember replied with a grunt as she tugged him out of the earth. "Zombies are dead."

"Alive or not, there's no way that guy's a human. I mean--" He gestured wildly to the grave and then added, "I swear, this is how horror movies start. Don't blame me if he eats our brains when he wakes up."

Ember set Daniel on the ground and knelt next to him. She didn't understand what was happening, or how he could be alive after crawling out a grave, but she couldn't just leave him inside a grave. He couldn't have been any older than 14, a year younger than she was. As she observed him, she saw color seep into his pale cheeks, hiding the idea that he had ever been anything but alive and healthy. For a second, she found herself doubting whether she had imagined his grave, but a quick glance over her shoulder told her that the dug-up grave was still there, and a second look at Johnny and Kitty's expressions assured her it was no dream.

The boy stirred, making Ember jerk in surprise. She watched as he inhaled, then dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Are you okay?" she reflexively asked, then realized after she said it how ridiculous the question must have sounded after she had whacked him in the head.

Daniel's eyes flew open, revealing icy blue irises. That was weird. Ember could have sworn they were green before.

He took in a breath, then another, as if he was new to the sensation of breathing. He stared at Ember, then down at himself. He lifted one hand, then set it back down on the grass, touching the blades of plant with his fingers. Finally, he spoke in a soft voice and said, "It worked."

Ember wasn't sure what she expected him to say. Actually, she wasn't sure she expected him to speak at all, so hearing him say those two words startled her. "What worked?" she questioned.

He looked at her as if he only just noticed she was there, but he ignored her question. Instead, he tried to lift himself into a sitting position. In the corner of Ember's vision, she saw Johnny take several steps back as Daniel moved.

It took him multiple attempts to sit up. Each time he pushed himself on his arms, they buckled under his weight, and he fell back. Finally, Ember felt too sorry for him and offered him a hand. Daniel's eyes slightly widened when he touched her skin, and he flexed his fingers in the air after she let go.

Kitty, who was apparently braver than her boyfriend, stepped toward the boy and asked, "Who are you?" After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Is your name Daniel Fenton?"

He looked up at her in surprise, then noticed the empty grave behind her with his name on it. "Oh. Yeah," he said. "It's Danny."

"Danny," Ember said, testing the name on her tongue. "What were you doing inside a grave?"

Again, he didn't answer her. Instead, he asked, "Where am I?"

"Uh. Amity Park's cemetary."

"That's in the human world, right?"

The question caught her by surprise. "The...human world?"

"I knew it!" Johnny exclaimed. "This guy isn't human. Come on, Kitty, we're leaving."

Kitty looked like she was about to argue, but just then, the sound of tires on gravel was heard, and all teens turned toward the cemetary's entrance. In the night's darkness, they couldn't see the car or the person who came out very well, but they could see the beam of flashlight he held that roved across the yard.

Kitty cursed and muttered, "It's Walker." Then she joined her boyfriend in running away.

"Walker?" Danny asked. "What's a Walker? Is it bad?"

"Walker is a cop," Ember explained, "and yes, he's bad."

Ember turned to scram as well, but then she heard scuffling in the dirt and turned back to see Danny still struggling to pick himself up. He was new to all the tendons and ligaments in his limbs and the body mass he had to carry. Ember glanced at the cemetary gates, where the flashlight was bobbing closer, then back at Danny doing a good impression of the worm. Finally, she sighed, hooked an arm under his armpits and picked him up. He felt light and fragile in her grip.

"Come on, ghost boy," she said and dragged him with her to the back edge of the graveyard.

They reached the wall just in time to see Kitty disappear over the edge. Ember paused at the foot and looked up. She could probably climb over fine, but how was she supposed to carry Danny over?

Fortunately for her, she felt Danny's weight lighten at that moment and turned her head sideway to see he had finally learned to stand up on his own. He stood facing the wall, his arm still around Ember's shoulders. Ember thought she imagined a sudden chill spread from his hand through her body. A tingling sensation enveloped her. Then, with surprising strength for someone who couldn't push himself off the ground, Danny pushed them both toward the wall.

Ember yelped and closed her eyes, sure she was going to hit her face any second now. She went forward, but the impact didn't come. Cautiously, she opened her eyes again, then had to blink them several times to make sure she wasn't imagining things. Both she and Danny were on the other side of the wall.

"What--" She looked at their surroundings, which was very much not the cemetary, then craned her head around to look behind them, where the wall was still very much there. Her eyes landed on Danny, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw, for a second, his eyes glow a faint green before dimming back to blue.

"You--How?" After stammering for a while, she said, "What are you?"

Danny met her eyes with a puzzled expression. "I thought you knew. You said it yourself." Before Ember could ask him what he meant, he gestured to himself and said, "Ghost boy."

It took all of Ember's willpower not to faint then and there.

Danny glanced behind, then back at Ember. "Walker bad?" he said.

"Uh..." She shook herself back into alertness and said, "Yeah. Walker bad."

They kept fleeing.

There were two problems. One was that Ember's house was pretty far from the cemetary. The long walk between here and there had never bothered her, but that was before she had a ghost-turned-zombie shuffling by her side with Walker possibly on their tail. At the rate they were going, a snail could probably catch them easily.

Ember heard a pained moan come from Danny. That was the other problem. Despite how healthy he had seemed back in the graveyard, now his breath was ragged and his head was slicked with sweat. Ember looked down at him and saw his face turn green.

"You okay?"

Danny nodded, but he didn't look very okay. "Fine. I just need..." He trailed off before he could finish the sentence and gagged. Ember realized what was coming and quickly jumped away from him, and not a moment too soon. Danny bent over and vomited.

"What in the--?" Ember was really hoping she was done seeing the strangest that this day had to offer, but when she looked at the pavement, Danny's emptied stomach content was a glowing, lime green goo.

Danny's face stopped being the shade of guacamole, but it went back to being pale. His eyes were faint green under his half-closed eyelids. "Ah," he said. "My soul is still adjusting." Then he began to sway.

Ember caught him before his body could hit the floor. Her boot accidentally stepped into the puddle of vomit-goo, which disgusted her to no end, but now was not the time to worry about that. Even though Danny was light, she didn't think she could carry him all the way to her home. She glanced around at their surroundings, and relief flooded through her when she recognized the neighborhood. One of her classmates lived here. One who was fortunately too nice to turn down helping someone.

Ember dragged Danny to one of the houses, which was identical to every other in the neighborhood except for the adress. She rang the doorbell and waited. A minute later, the door opened, revealing a scrawny male teenager with huge glasses, buck teeth, and an upturned nose. "Ember?" he said, then noticed the unconscious boy in her arms. "Wh--"

Ember jammed herself through the opening and forced herself into his house, closing the door behind her. "Hey, Poindexter," she greeted. "Think I need to crash here for a while."

Sidney Poindexter glared at her, but he didn't refuse. "What did you do this time?" he said, then his gaze landed on Danny, and his eyes widened. "Wait--you didn't mug him, did you?"

"Nah, he was already dead."

"He's dead?!"

"Sort of. It's a long story."

"Hold up!" Sidney waved his arms wildly and declared, "I might do your homework for you, but that doesn't mean i'll help you cover up a murder!"

"I didn't murder him! Like I said, he's only sort of dead."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

Ember set Danny on a couch. A trickle of green ran from his mouth, probably still there from his stomach purge. "Honestly, I'm not sure."

"You're not making any sense. Who is he?"

Ember looked at Sidney, who was waiting for an explanation with his arms crossed, as if that would intimidate her. She sighed and plopped herself onto the couch next to the unconscious sort-of-dead person. "Danny. Daniel Fenton. It was written on his grave."

"...His what?"

"Yep," Ember said, popping the 'P.' "He climbed out of a grave."

Sidney was speechless for a moment. "...He what."

Sidney came over to the couch and looked down at the body, noticing for the first time the soil that sprinkled his form. He raised his eyebrows at Ember. "This is a prank, right? It's not very funny."

"It's not a prank," Ember assured.

"So, what, you expect me to believe that this person came out a grave alive--or half-alive--and you brought him to my house?"

Hearing Sidney say it like that, it did sound awfully stupid. Ember sunk into the couch and sheepishly said, "Yeah...I'm not sure why I did that."

"This isn't funny," he repeated. "Who is he really?"

"I already told you. Danny Fenton."

"That can't be him, because the Fentons are dead!"

Ember looked up at Sidney. "You knew the Fentons?"

Sidney hesitated and shifted on his feet. "My grandma did. She said they were the city's whackos. They were obsessed with ghosts, even tried to build a portal in their basement, but I guess they failed because their house blew up and they died. A couple and two kids."

Ember let that information sink in. A portal into the ghost world. Now Danny had come from there to the human world. She remembered his first words in the graveyard: It worked. Could his parents, as ghosts, have completed their portal in the afterlife and somehow sent their son here?

"Okay, this is gonna sound crazy, but..." She told him her theory.

"That's prepostorous," Sidney said once she was done.

"I don't know, man. This whole day has been preposterous."

"You're telling me--" he pointed at Danny--"that this guy is a ghost. But he doesn't look like a ghost."

"That's because he got resurrected...or something. I'm not sure."

Sidney looked like he was about to make another argument, but whatever words he was about to say were cut off by a gasp.

Ember felt the couch beneath her shift as Danny's weight lifted itself off. By that, I mean it really did lift--the boy had righted himself into a standing position suspended in the air, a foot off the sofa. When he opened his eyes, they were bright green again.

At this point, Ember had come to expect the unexpected from Danny, so she was fairly calm about him hovering in mid-air. However, Sidney was staring at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Danny knitted his brows, as if he was confused by Sidney's shock. He looked down at himself, then understanding dawned on him and he looked back up and said, "Oh, right. Humans can't fly, right?"

Sidney opened his mouth and closed it several times wordlessly before he finally stammered out, "G-g-ghost."

Danny settled himself neatly down onto the couch, and his eyes returned to blue. He frowned. "Well, I'm supposed to be a human now, but apparently I'm still part ghost. Maybe I'm somewhere in between. Half a human, half a ghost."

"Great," Sidney said with a gulp. "You're a halfa."

Ember raised an eyebrow. "Halfa? Really? You couldn't have come up with a more creative word for hybrid?"

Sidney ignored her, instead turning his attention to the so-called halfa. "What do you want from us?" he demanded with narrowed eyes. "Are you going to kill us to expand your undead kingdom in the ghost world? Will you take over the living realm as your own?" He hugged himself protectively and questioned, "You're not going to steal our bodies, will you?"

Danny seemed amused by Sidney's suggestions. "No. I'm not the ghost king. I'm not doing any of that."

"Then what do you plan to do?"

Danny turned his gaze down like he was mulling it over. "I just want to live," he finally said.

For a long moment, there was silence except for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock from the hall.

Sidney hesitantly broke the silence by asking, "You're really Daniel Fenton?"

Danny shifted in his seat, but he nodded. "Just Danny is fine."

Sidney collapsed onto an armchair in the living room and rested his head in his hands. "Right. This is normal. Totally normal."

Ember studied Danny. He looked better now--his breath was even, and he wasn't vomiting any slime--though his skin was still a shade paler than what is generally considered healthy. Maybe that was normal for a halfa. She thought back on the night, which felt like a week long. All she had expected to do that night was play some guitar...

"Fuck," Ember said a little louder than necessary. The two boys turned their attention to her. Ember despaired and said, "I forgot my guitar at the cemetary."

Sidney raised his eyebrows at her. "You met a dead person, and that's what you worry about? You can go get it back in the morning."

"You don't understand. Walker's gonna see a dug-up grave and my guitar and think I robbed a grave."

"Well, I mean..." He jabbed a thumb at Danny and said, "You did take something with you."

Ember didn't find that very funny, but Danny laughed. A soft and cheerful laugh. She saw the boy smiling and felt just a little bit less angry.

"Oh, that reminds me," Danny said, and he turned in his seat to face Sidney. "You don't happen to have a way to contact the ghost zone, do you?"

[whirlybirbs]

WE’RE GHOSTS.  ----  A.M. ;

summary: you, on a flight of fate, buy a journal belonging to an A. MORGAN. turns out it’s haunted. based on this plot idea i threw out into the world this morning. word count: who knows, this is v. freeform, i did not count pairing: ghost!arthur x reader, w/ a twist a/n: me? a ghost fan? yea. so far, this is a stand-alone fic. the end is loose, so if folks want another part, leave a lil comment, send my dumb ass an ask, i love ghost fics.

The journal comes with more questions than anything.

The withered pages are rich with personal history. quick, sketched-out drawings of places visited are accompanied by the smudge of fingerprints along the dog eared pages. The words, in practiced script, are incredibly human -- loss, heartbreak, happiness...

And then it just ends.

There’s pages left to be filled at the end, at-least twenty or so, and you find yourself wondering what in the world happened to A. MORGAN.

Things start moving.

It’s... little things.

Like, the can of beans from your cabinet is suddenly on the counter one morning. Your knife drawer, you find, slides open randomly. You blame it all on forgetfulness and loose hinges.

An old photo falls off the wall one night, scaring you half to death -- you pull yourself from the sheets, bleary eyed from sleep and confusion, to find the frame in the middle of the hall.

The snow around the family of deer glints in the light of the moon.

You blink, swearing you saw a reflection in the glass.

You ignore it. You put the picture back on the wall and move on.

It’s nearly winter.

The house creaks more, lonely and quiet, but full to the brim with something you can’t quite put your finger on. It feels heavier and you stoke the fireplace wondering if some time away from your family’s cabin would put you at ease.

The house was passed down to you when your parents moved south, chasing retirement and heat. You didn’t have the heart to let them put it on the market. Too many good memories.

But, now? Those are being snuffed out by nameless anxieties.

The noises haven’t stopped -- in fact, they’ve only gotten worse.

Things have started to move in the attic. You don’t have the heart to go up there. Instead, you lay in bed, as still as you can, while old furniture shifts above you.

The tinker of spurs on the floors up there is like bells in the wind.

The kitchen.

The sounds are coming from the kitchen.

It’s the shattering of glass that separates this from all the other incidents. This time, the baseball bat in your hands is gripped with a ferocious need for protection -- and you pad into the kitchen quiet as a mouse, fight or flight driving your hands to shake and eyes to dart.

When you pass the threshold of the kitchen, your jaw drops.

A bottle of Jack Daniels is spinning on its side on the quartz island, whiskey pouring from the bottle. Three shot glasses lined up and full, one shattered on the kitchen floor. Every drawer is open, as if someone had been searching for something...

And the journal sits, open, on the kitchen table. It’s on an early entry. One about the town of Valentine and a rowdy night in the local saloon.

“How the fuck --” you utter, reaching to touch the journal.

And as your fingers skim the page, all the lights in the kitchen strobe in one big flourish, bulbs shattering like gunshots in glittered little filaments as you screech, jumping six feet in the air.

Then the drawers, ramming back and forth and you realize it’s the knife drawer again -- and suddenly, a butcher knife sails across the room and embeds itself in the wall beside your head.

Right through a canvas painting of a white tailed buck in the snow.

The guy at Home Depot didn’t say a word when you bought four whole packs of new light bulbs, plaster, and chains at check out. The look on his face was sympathetic.

You get an extra shot in your coffee order on your way back to the Antique Store, journal in hand.

Well, not in hand. It’s rubber-banded shut in the backseat, weighed down by an old bible you found in a drawer in the guest room.

“All sales are final,” says the owner, shaking his head, “I finally got rid a’ that thing --”

“Yeah,” you bite, “And I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep since.”

“Here,” he says, cashing open the register and handing you a ten dollar bill, “Have your money. But, I ain’t taking that thing back... Why don’t you go burn it?”

Your eye twitches.

“You’re kidding.”

“Just burn it.”

You gawk at your friend, eyes pulled wide as you stab your steak.

“I can’t... I can’t do that --”

“It’s haunted, dude.”

“Yeah, but it’s... history.”

“Haunted history,” she muses over her wine, “It’s ruining your home --”

She gestures to the fresh plaster over your shoulder. The knife had left a good hole. Across from you, the pantry is chained closed and so is the drawer belonging to the aforementioned knife.

“ -- So, dowse it in holy water and burn it.”

“You’re kidding.”

She wasn’t. And the owner of the Antique Store wasn’t either.

The internet agrees with them.

You’ve been doing a lot of research.

Your knee bounces, lip pulled between your teeth as you eye the journal sitting before you on the kitchen counter. You’re worrying, torn between a deep regret of burning lost history -- I mean, the guilt of destroying A. Morgan’s life... the last living document of it...

The pantry door creaks open behind you.

“Will you stop?” you snap finally, words hiking in irritation, “Stop it.”

A moment’s pause.

And then it shuts.

You gawk, eyes darting to the journal as you round the counter. Your eyes narrow, finger darting out. 

“Listen up, Morgan --” you mutter, “I dunno who you think you are --”

The faucet behind you turns on.

“I pay the bills,” you say slowly, “I live here, and you’re more than welcome to stay but you need to stop scaring me.”

The faucet cuts abruptly in a cough. You spin, eyeing it in bewilderment.

“I’m going crazy,” you breathe, “I’m talking to a book.”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your hip. Like someone trying to pass by. 

You let him.

You step out of the shower one morning and there’s a hand-print in the steam of the mirror.

“If you’re tryin’ to peep on me in the shower,” you say quietly. “I’ll kill you.”

You swear you hear a laugh over your shoulder.

Humming. 

It’s like the fading of a song, in and out, and you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It pulls you from your sleep and as soon as you open your eyes you feel the weight of the bed shift.

Silence.

Things quiet down.

No more shattered glasses, no more flying knives, no more exploding bulbs. The pantry stays closed, but the beans keep appearing here and there -- which you don’t really mind.

A. Morgan’s journal has it’s own spot on your kitchen table now.

The touching happens more often. Most recently, you’d felt a hand on your shoulder while you’d sat and watched television in the living room. 

You look over the back of the couch.

“... Hello?”

Silence.

Things in the attic, however, are louder than ever.

You still don’t have the courage to go up there.

You settle on bundling up, after all it’s winter. And you need the coats that are up there. But, there’s something holding you back. You worry that going up there will shift the dynamic you’ve seemed to have settled into with the other guest in your home.

“You know,” you say politely in the direction of the journal as you’re cooking dinner, “I wish you’d keep it down up there --”

The attic floorboards creak and a bang! resounds through the house.

Your hand flies to your heart.

A low rumble of laughter carves through the dining room.

It’s a frigid Sunday morning when you decide to brave it. You pull the hatch down in the hallway, attic ladder folding out as you heave a sigh and try to keep your wits about you.

“I just need my jackets --” you say gently as you ascend the steps slowly, flashlight clicking on in your hands, “I’ll get them and get outta your hair, Morgan -- I...”

Your jaw drops.

The attic is...

“Oh my god.”

A mess.

“What the hell have you been up to...?” you breathe, stepping over mounds of clothes spilling from box overturned on the floor.

The furniture is old -- passed down to your mom’s mom by her mom. Inside are old dresses, old shirts, furs and scarves and hats and... the doors to the wardrobe are open, exposing the now bare mahogany of the back. It’s been emptied, and you breathe a soft exclamation of shock as you near it, stepping over the pastel fabrics pooled on the floor.

In the back of the dresser, there are scratches.

WHERE AM I?

As you read it, your breath curls around you.

You feel like you’ve been shoved into an icebox. Behind your eyes, a shallow grave in the middle of winter flashes like a bad dream. 

There’s a sound over your shoulder then, like a cough, and you spin -- eyes dilating in the dark as your flashlight follows. The whole attic has been torn through.

It smells like tobacco.

The doors to the wardrobe slam shut then with a desperate rattle and you jump, eyes peeled wide as the mirrors fixed to the outer doors glimmer back at you.

The man in the reflection looks scared.

And then he’s gone.

You ask your coworker to help you move the wardrobe one afternoon.

“Nice piece a’ furniture,” he’d remarked as he helped you maneuver it down the ladder, “Where’s it going?”

“My room --” you say, straining to lift the heavy piece, “I felt guilt having this up there in the dark.”

“Nice place.”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

You’re working at your desk when you hear it, head snapping to the sound -- it’s gone in a beat, fading into the back of your mind and you’re left wondering if it even happened.

And... then you smell the tobacco.

Smoke curls in the rays of the winter afternoon sun pouring through the windows.

The reflection -- it’s not you. It’s him. You freeze, eyes trying their best to memorize the figure of the reclined outlaw. He’s on your bed, like a man out of time, hat tipped low to hide everything but the cut of his jaw. He’s looking at you, you realize, and when you turn to look at the spot on the bed, you see there’s an imprint. 

“Thanks,” you says slowly, “You’ve certainly settled in.”

A laugh. In one ear, rattling around and out the other.

Blue eyes meet yours in the reflection.

There’s blood on his collar.

And then he’s gone.

“Who’re you?”

You pull your eyes up from his journal. 

In the wardrobe mirror, his reflection paints him long and broad and rugged. His hat is in hands, calloused and bruised, and he looks pale; his cheeks are gaunt and eyes a bit hollow, but you can see the handsome cut of his profile more clearly now without his hat obscuring the view. He’s hunched over the side of the bed. 

A. Morgan is scared.

“I, uh... I should be asking you that, I think.”

“Arthur.”

Silence. The smell of tobacco is all that lingers behind.

You buy a book -- GUNSLINGERS & THE WEST, a collection of biographies by Theodore Levin. It’s the only thing you can find that mentions Arthur Morgan, aside from a few old newspaper clippings that briefly mention a man of the same name from a town called Blackwater. 

The history is a bit muddied, the newspaper articles only giving you pieces of the picture.

The book helps.

He was a member of the Van der Linde’s... some gang from back in the day. Son of Lyle and Beatrice Morgan. Surname is Welsh. Born in 1863. It doesn’t tell you much more than that., only that Arthur helped Levin composite some of the images and stories in his book.

How nice of him.

“Y’ still didn’t say who y’ are.”

You jump fifty feet in the air.

The bathroom mirror is dark, but you can see him there over your shoulder as the faucet runs -- the glow of a lit cigarette hangs from his lips. There’s the smell again. His spurs jingle as he settles against the sill.

You rub at the sleep in your eyes. 

It’s 3am. 

“Am I dead?”

You don’t know how to answer him. 

He disappears in an exhale of smoke.

On the table in the kitchen, pages of his journal begin to turn.

Without prompting, you tell him your name.

You’re chopping carrots for stew as you speak.

The pages stop.

“I think you’re dead,” you say softly, “I think -- I don’t know. I think you’ve been dead for a long time... I’m sorry, Arthur.”

Your house is quiet for a few days. 

Eerily so.

You’d become used to the weight of someone else’s energy in the house for so long that... well, you’re a little worried that your words in the kitchen the other dat had maybe been cause enough for him to move on.

And that’s when the dreams start.

Laughter. The burn of whiskey bubbles in your throat. There’s a smile on your lips and a hand dragging you to the fire and sweet words being chirped into your ear. 

Suddenly, you realize, this isn’t your life.

“Wha’s wrong, sweetpea, huh?”

Blue eyes glimmer with worry, lacking hollow divide.

The faces around the fire have no discernible features. When you think you’ve nailed them down, they melt into a changing river of expressions. Blurred. Running like rain. Panic rises in your throat.

Arthur’s face is the last thing you see before you wake up.

You’re not supposed to be there.

“I know you.”

You think maybe he’s right.

His hands are on your skin, searing and hot and dangerously tempting. They hike up your thighs, mouth pressed hotly to your own -- the moments twists like a knife in your gut and you’re pushing it away, hands shoving in a flurry of confusion.

This isn’t right, this isn’t your life.

Arthur’s face is flooded with concern. 

A beat passes. Heavy breaths linger between you both. Finally, from above him in his lap, you speak.

“You do know me.”

“Who is she?”

Arthur clears his throat. He’s coughing, heavy and wet, into his arm. Blood runs down his chin. It hurts, the mere sound of it, and his breath runs ragged.

“I was gonna marry her.”

“Is that how you know me?”

He doesn’t need to say a word. You know the answer already.

Fate’s a funny thing.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request Y/N comforting Daniel after he has a nightmare?🥥

“No..wha..what are you all doing here?!” Through gritted teeth, Daniel glared at his bedroom window, watching the figures with glowing red eyes scratch the glass.

Somehow he could still hear their mechanical laughter, their humanlike groans and moans, and the clicks of their gears.

The CEO gulped nervously, keeping his phone outstretched and his thumb over the shock button.

They couldn’t taunt him like this. He was the reason they were even active right now! They had no right!

They were just dumb robots! They knew better than this...did they?

Suddenly, they cloaked themselves one by one…before manifesting in his own room and revealing themselves in a similar order: Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, Baby, Balloon Boy, Springtrap, the Bare Endoskeleton, and finally Freddy himself. All covered in mud and scratches, their suits heavily damaged.

Somehow even Shadow Bonnie manifested in the room, surrounded by floating remnant–both of light and of shadow. He snickered silently, not even fazed by the flashlight shining on his face.

“WHAT DO YOU ALL WANT FROM ME?!!” Daniel screamed, his heart racing.

“We just wanted to visit!” Freddy chuckled. "I-I-I thought that's what we were made to do."

“Yet when we do as we're advertised t' do...this is how ye repay us?!” Foxy snarled in anger, scraping his hook against the wall. “Are we just things for ye to shock to yer heart’s delight an’ use for yer dirty work?!!”

“N-No..I..I didn’t use any of you!!” He shook his head frantically, holding out his phone more with shaking hands. "I've done nothing wrong!"

“Interesting you say that, since you seem…desperate to hide the truth from your loyal ”subscribers”,” Springtrap hissed as he limped towards him, eyes glowing white. “You could never wash the blood off your hands, Daniel. Trust me..I know very well what-”

“ENOUGH!” Daniel activated the shock button, a stream of blue electricity causing the decomposed rabbit to twitch violently and roar in pain…before seemingly slumping over.

For a moment he grinned, but his victory was not to last as Springtrap laughed and stood back upright.

“That was pathetic.”

“No..that’s not suppose to happen!!” He glared at his phone–only to see that the battery on the AR app was completely dead.

“Oh no!” Freddy jested as he and the others began surrounding him. “It seems y-y-you lost! What a shame."

He then laughed and played his trademark tune, as the rest of the animatronics joined in and began closing in on the now screaming male-

“Daniel!”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” With a gasp, Daniel sat upright in his bed. He was sweating profusely as he looked around, realizing there were no menacing animatronics trying to kill him.

Only you and Bonnie were there in his room.

“You okay?” You set a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You were screaming like anything. Bonnie woke up and-”

“C-Can he leave..please?” He whispered hoarsely, tears running down his face as he clutched the blankets. When he saw your look of confusion, he sniffled. “I-I don’t wanna see any animatronics right now.”

Nodding in understanding, you looked at Bonnie. He seemed to get the message, as he stood up and quietly walked out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door carefully on his way out.

You always wondered how he could get his ears through the doorways.

But as you turned back to Daniel, your smile faltered as you saw his face buried in his hands. “Had a nightmare about them?”

He just whimpered and nodded. “I..I don’t wanna go into detail. It was just so..violent and vivid..”

“You just want me to stay here?” You shuffled over, sitting beside him. He sniffled and hugged you tightly, closing his eyes as he felt you return the embrace.

His answer was clearly obvious.

[spn-safeandsound]

14. Family Squabbles

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x20; Dead Man’s Blood

Word Count: 7,603

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, arguing

Author’s Note: Introducing Luke Alexander! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia popped a fry into her mouth and wiped her greasy fingers before looking back at her laptop, reading an email that her Aunt Maggie had sent to her, Abby, and Beth. It was her monthly update with what was going on with PSC; earnings, new contracts, and employee turnaround. Julia didn't know much about what went into keeping a business but she knew enough to know what Maggie was talking about in her emails without having to look it up  in a dictionary.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean reach for one of her fries; she swatted his hand away and ignored the pout he gave her in return. Fries were her favorite and she would only share them on certain occasions. A random weekday didn't count.

Dean sighed and folded the newspaper he was reading. "Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," he told them before addressing Sam, "What have you got?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota..." Sam said from behind his laptop. "Here—a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

Julia raised her eyebrows while Dean cocked his head. "That sounds more like 'that's incredible' than 'the Twilight Zone'."

Sam sighed and continued his search. "Yeah."

"Hey, you know, we could just keep heading east. New York, upstate," Dean suggested. "Could stop by and see Sarah again, huh. She's a cool chick, man, smokin'," he whistled playfully. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

Julia grinned when Sam perked up, a little flustered. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday," he placated his brother. "In the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, Dean, you know that."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "What else you got?"

"Uh, a man in Colorado," Sam studied his screen. "A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home. It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

Julia perked up when she recognized the name. Her dad had known a man named Danny Elkins way back when she was a kid. They had a falling out of some sort but Luke still held him in high regard and made sure he was supplied with anything he needed from PSC.

"My dad knew a Danny Elkins," she told the brothers as Dean pulled out John's journal.

"I think my dad knew him, too," Dean flipped toward the part of the journal where John kept his hunter contacts. "Here—D. Elkins."

He pointed out the contact, which included a phone number, to Sam and Julia.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You guys think it's the same Elkins?"

"If both of our dads knew a Danny Elkins, it makes sense," Julia shrugged, closing her laptop. "Plus, that's a Colorado area code."

Sam looked from Julia to Dean, who nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Let's check it out."

-

Daniel Elkins lived in a secluded cabin up in the mountains and, according to the bartender at the place he frequented every week, he was a bit of a shut-in. Despite the fact that it was July, it was chilly up in the mountains and starting to snow a little.

They had to pick the lock to get into the cabin and since Julia didn't have much experience with that, Sam and Dean made sure that she was the one to do it this time. It took her a few tries but she eventually unlocked the door.

"Good job, shortcake," Dean patted her ass when Sam stepped into the cabin and then followed in behind him. He turned on his flashlight and started looking around. "Well, looks like the maid didn't come today."

Julia stepped into the cabin, lighting her own flashlight. She wandered off into a different room as Sam stayed by the door, observing some of the salt on the ground, and entered the study. It was an absolute disaster; with most of the furniture splintered into pieces, papers and books all over the place, and various collectibles knocked over everywhere.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right beside the door," Sam called from the front room.

"You mean protection-against-demon salt or whoops-I-spilled-the-popcorn salt?" Dean called back from the room he was looking through.

"It's clearly a ring," Julia heard Sam say as she picked up an empty wooden case that used to hold a gun and its bullets. "Do you think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"Definitely!" Julia spoke up loud enough so the boys could hear her.

"He's got a journal here, Jules!" Dean replied back. "Dates back to the sixties."

"Ooh," Julia whispered under her breath; that would be interesting to read.

Finished with searching their rooms, Sam and Dean entered the room where Julia was looking around. Sam's eyes immediately went to the broken skylight. "Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one."

Dean nodded, looking at the wooden case that Julia had discarded on the messy desk. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too."

Julia made a noise of agreement as she continued to slowly step over some of the debris. She paused when her light flashed over some blood and when she took a closer look, she saw that there were some scratches in the wooden floors.

"You got something, J?" Sam noticed her crouching down next to the scratches.

"I think so," Julia nodded. "Hey, can you get me a pencil and some paper?"

Dean quickly grabbed some supplies from the messy desk and handed them over to her. Julia slapped the paper over the scratches, making sure it was flush with the floor, and then scribbled over it with a pencil, marking out whatever Elkins scratched into the wood.

She picked it up when she was finished, reading the letters and numbers that she deciphered. "It's a message."

Dean took the bloody paper from her. "Well, that looks familiar," he showed it to Sam. "Three letters, six digits."

"The location and combination of a post office box," Sam realized. "It's a mail drop."

Dean nodded. "Just the way Dad does it."

-

After dropping by the local post office and getting into Elkins' mail drop box, Julia, Sam, and Dean went and rented out a motel room. The letter they had discovered in the drop box was written out to a J.W, which just so happened to be John Winchester's initials. Julia didn't think it was a coincidence but Sam and Dean were a little skeptical.

"J.W," Sam sighed, looking over at the envelope Dean held in his hands. "You think it's for Dad?"

"I don't know," Dean studied the initials, looking as if the writing would jump out at him. "Should we open it?"

Before Julia or Sam could answer him, there was a knock on the motel door. The three of them stiffened and Dean dropped the envelope on the table before grabbing his gun to walk over to the door. He aimed it at the door as he reached for the knob and twisted, opening it just a crack so he could see who was on the other side.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was and he opened the door all the way. "Dad? Luke?"

John Winchester and Luke Alexander made their way into the motel room, shocking Julia and Sam. They both looked a little tired but other than that, they seemed healthy.

Julia silently stared at her father. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and even though she loved him, she had been suppressing some anger toward him for a long time now, especially after what happened to Levi and the fact that he just took off again.

Growing up, Julia and Luke had a good relationship despite the fact that he was gone most of the year, hunting supernatural creatures. Luke had always been closest to Abby, his little protégé, but he loved each of his children in his own ways. He was a strict father but still loving and he loved Naomi to death. When she died, he became distant but he still kept in contact. All that had changed the beginning of Julia's senior year at Stanford.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked John, standing up from the table. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," John assured his youngest son. "We read the news about Daniel. We got here as fast as we could. We saw you three at his place."

Julia narrowed her eyes at her dad, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact with her. She couldn't believe that he would come all the way to some random cabin in Colorado but didn't have the decency to attend his own son's memorial or make sure that his daughters were okay.

"Why didn't you guys come in?"

"You know why," John said pointedly. "Because we had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks, by the way."

Surprisingly, his comment wasn't at all sarcastic.

Dean grinned proudly. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best."

Julia couldn't contain her anger anymore. Not when everyone was acting so casual about John and Luke's reappearance. "So, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" she caught everyone's attention with the sharpness in her voice; it wasn't like her at all to speak that way to anyone. "but you couldn't extend the same courtesy for Levi? For your son?"

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jujube—"

"No, don't do that!" Julia stood up abruptly, causing Dean and Sam to exchange a knowing look; Dean slowly started moving toward her, hoping she wouldn't direct her ire at him. "Levi died, Dad! He died and you were no where in sight. Oh wait," she scoffed bitterly. "I forgot. You were in Chicago but you decided it was best not to see how the rest of your family was doing!"

Only inches away from her, Dean placed a warm hand on her back, trying to calm her down. "Jules..."

Luke was in the wrong, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let his daughter yell at him like that. Especially in front of other people. "Don't you talk to me like that, Julia Ruth," he pointed at her, his eyes hardening. "I'm still your father and you will show me some respect."

Julia scoffed, tears coming to her eyes. She angrily brushed them away, cursing her overreactive tear ducts. "You don't deserve it," she spat, pushing away Dean's hand as he tried to grab her waist. "You abandoned your family!"

Luke took a threatening step forward and Julia recognized the look in his eyes. She had seen it many times before when she or Abby stepped out of line and got into trouble. It was look he gave when he was two seconds away from whooping their asses.

Luckily, Dean came to her rescue. "Okay, that's enough," he said sternly, firmly grabbing her waist, pulling her to her and Sam's bed, and sitting her down. He gave Luke a glare, too, expressing all of his anger into it for Julia's sake. "You too, Luke. Both of you calm down."

Luke glared back at him but calmed down when John patted his shoulder.

"All right," John sighed and gave Julia a sympathetic look that surprised her. "We need to focus. Dean, can I look at that letter?"

Not letting go of Julia's shoulders, Dean nodded at the letter where he set it on the table. John picked it up and opened the envelope as Sam came to sit by Julia on their bed, grabbing her hand to calm her down.

"If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John read the letter, trailing off when he came across something shocking. "That son of a bitch."

Luke gave him a questioning look. "What is it?"

John handed him the letter. "He had it the whole time."

"What?"

Luke quickly read the letter and then looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?"

"There was an old case," Julia told him, wiping her tears and swallowing her anger in order to talk to him. "but it was empty."

John sighed angrily. "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean wondered.

John nodded. "We gotta pick up their trail."

"Wait," Sam looked at him in shock. "You want us to help you?"

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun."

"The gun?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why," John said sharply.

Sam sighed. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," Luke spoke up. "Vampires."

"Vampires," Dean's grip on Julia's shoulders tightened. "I thought there was no such thing."

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam pointed out.

"We thought they were extinct," John explained. "We thought that Elkins and others had wiped them out. We were wrong."

"Most vampire lore is wrong," Luke took a seat at the table where Julia, Sam, and Dean were previously sitting. "A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. The bloodlust, though, that's true. They need fresh human blood to survi-ve. They were once people so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

Julia pursed her lips and shared a look with Sam, both of them concerned with the unknowns of what was happening. Vampires now existed, their dads were searching for some random gun that the vampires stole from Elkins, and they didn't even know why the gun was so special that Elkins left a letter for John in the event of his death.

She was unsettled already by her dad's presence but now, with all this new information, it was worse. She wrinkled her nose and bowed her head, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her again. Dean had pretty much calmed her down for the moment but her anger was still simmering inside her. There were three things she did while she was angry; cried, gave whoever she was angry at the silent treatment, or act petty.

This time, she was going with silent treatment.

-

A harsh pat on the end of her bed by her feet woke Julia up from her deep sleep. She could hear Luke and John talking and the hum of a police radio but her mind was trying to catch up to the fact that she was now awake. Sam groaned from next to her and hit her in the shoulder when he stretched out his arms, making her groggily groan in pain.

"Sam, Dean, Julia, wake up," John barked at them; Julia sat up to see that he and Luke were shrugging on their jackets. "Let's go."

Still half-asleep, Dean sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Mmhm."

"What happened?" Sam sighed.

"We picked up a police call," Luke stated, making sure his weapon was loaded. "A couple called 9-1-1, found a body in the street. When the cops got there, everyone was missing."

"It's the vampires," John added.

Sam slowly sat up, groaning. "How do you know?"

"Just follow us, okay?" John said impatiently as Luke opened the door, heading out after the older man.

Julia moaned as she stretched, getting the sleepiness out of her joints, and hopped up to her feet. She had fallen asleep in the leggings and t-shirt she wore the day before, so she simply pulled on her boots and her navy-blue canvas jacket, making sure all her weapons were ready to go.

"Huh, vampires," Dean scoffed groggily, getting up from his bed. "It gets funnier every time I hear it."

A half-hour later, the sun was rising as John and Luke questioned the police gathered around the abandoned car. The two older men had been adamant about having Julia, Sam, and Dean stay back while they did their work, leaving Julia and Sam feeling frustrated.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with them," Sam grumbled from his place against the hood of the Impala.

While Julia nodded in agreement, Dean gave him a calculative look. "Oh, don't tell me it's already starting."

As John and Luke started making their way back to them, Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Dean. "What's starting?

Dean just shook his head and turned to the older hunters. "What'd you get?"

"It was them, all right," John confirmed for them. "Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dean gave his brother a warning look. "Sam..."

"I just want to know that we're going in the right direction," Sam defended himself.

John clenched his jaw. "We are."

"How do you know?" Sam challenged him.

John sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling something out and handing it to Dean. "I found this."

Julia silently looked over as Dean flipped over the sharp tooth between his fingers. "It's a vampire fang."

"Not fangs, teeth," Luke corrected him. "The second set descends when they attack."

John gave Sam a hard look. "Any more questions?"

Sam didn't speak but glared down at the gravel at their feet.

"All right," John spoke when he was sure Sam wasn't going to backtalk. "let's get out of here. We're losing daylight."

It was early in the morning and the sun had just set so Julia knew that John was just being an asshole.

He proved her theory correct when he passed by the Impala and commented, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Julia scoffed quietly as John and Luke got into their truck, glaring at the former. Dean took better care of Baby then he did himself. There was no way rust was getting anywhere near the treasured Impala. Dean would rather die.

Sam gave his brother an I-told-you-so look while Dean just smiled awkwardly and shrugged in embarrassment. The three of them got into the Impala, with Sam driving, and started following John's truck to make their way past the detour.

"You take great care of Baby, Dean," Julia assured him, reaching forward to pat his shoulder twice. "Don't listen to your dad."

"Eh, maybe he's right," Dean shrugged as he grabbed Daniel Elkins' journal from the dashboard.

"No, he's not," she insisted.

Sam nodded in agreement. "She's right, Dean."

"All right, all right," Dean sighed and tossed the Elkins journal to Julia. "Find some info on the vamps, would you, shortcake?"

Julia, who caught the journal easily, nodded and started flipping through the pages until she saw the start of the section about vampires.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten," she read out loud so Sam and Dean could hear her. "Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks."

"Ugh," Dean grimaced. "I wonder if that's what happened to the 9-1-1 couple."

"That's probably what Dad is thinking," Sam muttered sourly. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So," Dean gave his brother a thoughtful look. "it is starting."

Sam glanced at him confused. "What?"

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year," Dean pointed out. "Now we're with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?"

"No," Sam huffed. "Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again..."

"Well, good," Dean thought that he was finished. Julia knew better, though; Sam was itching to make the fact that he was annoyed with John bossing them around known.

"It's just the way he treats us," he blurted out. "Like we're children."

Dean groaned. "Oh, here we go."

"He barks orders at us, Dean," Sam raised his voice to try to make a point. "He expects us to follow them without question. He keeps us on some fucking need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean argued, matching Sam's volume.

"What reason?"

"Our job!" Dean exclaimed. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things. Luke does it, too."

"Yeah and look at what a great father my dad is," Julia spoke up. "Look, I agree with Sam. You guys are grown men and he should treat you like it."

While Dean gave her an annoyed look, Sam nodded, glad that she was backing him up. "It doesn't work anymore," he agreed. "Not after everything that the three of us have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him and Luke run the whole show?"

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at Sam. "If that's what it takes."

There was something in the way that Dean said those words that had Julia doubting that he didn't mind John taking charge. Over the last year, Dean had been the one in charge; he was the oldest, what he said goes. More than likely, he didn't like giving up his control, especially when his dad treated him like a kid and not the twenty-seven-year-old man he was.

Nevertheless, Dean gave nothing else away. They continued driving through Colorado throughout the whole day, with little to no breaks. It was well past dark when John called Dean to inform him of their next move.

"Yeah, Dad, I got it," Dean confirmed before hanging up the phone and turning to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?"

"Cause Dad and Luke think that we've got the vampires' trail."

"How?"

Julia winced at Sam's furious tone; John Winchester sure did know how to bring the best out in his sons.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

Sam stomped on the gas pedal, revving the engine. They shot forward, speeding from their current place behind John's truck until they were passing it. Once Sam was sure they were a safe enough distance ahead of their fathers, he abruptly pulled out into the middle of the road, cutting John and Luke off.

"Shit," Julia breathed in shock, pressing her hand against her racing heart. As Sam pushed open his door, she protested, "Sam, no!"

"Fuck, here we go," Dean muttered, getting out of the Impala to run interference between his dad and Sam. "Sam, stop!"

Just as Julia was getting out of the car, John barreled out of his truck and up to Sam, a furious look on his face. "What the fuck was that?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?" John stopped in front of Sam when there was only about three inches between them.

Luke got out of the passenger seat of the truck and leaned against it, watching what was going on with raised eyebrows. He shot Julia a look but she steadily ignored him, watching Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

"About everything," Sam said firmly. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q-and-A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried to interject.

"Your brother's right. We don't have time for this."

"Last time we say you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help," Sam raised his voice. "Obviously something big is going down and we wanna know what!"

John gave him a stone-cold glare. "Get back in the car."

"No."

"I said get back in the fucking car."

"Yeah, and I said no!" Sam yelled.

Before the argument could escalate any further, Julia and Dean stepped in. Julia grabbed Sam's arm and forcefully tugged him a few feet away from his dad, standing her ground when he tried to fight her.

"Okay, you made your point, tough guy," Dean told his little brother as he pushed on his dad's chest to get him to back away. "Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later."

"Come on, Sam," Julia said encouragingly. "Let it go for now."

Sam shook his head, still glaring at his father. "This is why I left in the first place."

John lunged forward, pressing against Dean's hold on him; Luke jumped into the fray, holding his friend back. "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, you left!" John reminded him scathingly. "Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away. You walked away!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean called as Sam broke loose from Julia's grasp, stalking straight up to John. Dean immediately pushed him back while Luke continued to try to pull John away.

"You were the one who said don't come back, Dad," Sam shouted, tears in his eyes. "You closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

Julia shook her head, feeling three angry energies clashing back and forth. Sam was getting more and more riled up and John was the source of the Winchester temper so he was no better. Dean was angry because he just got his family back together and it was splitting apart already. It was too much anger and, added with her own, Julia was having a hard time keeping her composure while Sam needed her. She had to stay calm, though. She—and her dad, really—were the only ones who could right now.

She took a deep breath, calming herself down, and stomped forward, gripping both of Sam's arms to pull him away from John. "Stop it!" she yelled firmly. "Stop it right now! That's enough!"

Dean saw an opportunity when Julia got Sam to back up a couple of inches; he forced himself in between his brother and his father, making sure that they were far enough apart once again.

"That means you too," Dean added to John with a glare.

"Come on, John," Luke grunted, pulling John back toward the truck.

Sam ripped his arms away from Julia and stomped to the Impala, slamming the driver's door shut behind him. Julia and Dean shared with look of exasperation with each other; it'd only been a day and the duo of Sam and John Winchester would be the death of them.

"Fucking terrific," Dean grumbled under his breath as he and Julia joined Sam in the car.

-

Julia, Sam, Dean, Luke, and John crouched in the woods only a couple hundred feet from the old barn where the vampire nest was living. They had been there for a half-hour already but there was no activity until an old car drove up and parked next to the other ones. A vampire got out and another vampire opened the barn door for him, neither one of them affected by the sun's rays.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, shaking his head as the second vampire closed up the barn once again. "So, they're really not afraid of the sun?"

Luke shook his head. "Direct sunlight hurts them like a nasty sunburn," he told them. "The only way to kill them is by beheading."

"And just because they sleep in the day doesn't mean they won't wake up," John added.

Julia hummed. "So, I'm guessing just walking in isn't our best option."

"Actually," John grinned at her, showing off his Winchester dimples. "that's the plan."

The five of them left their hiding place and made their way back to where the truck and Impala were parked. Even though the truck was only a couple years older than Baby, its weapon outfit was much nicer. It buzzed as it mechanically opened, holding numerous weapons in a neatly organized way.

"Come here, baby girl," Luke waved Julia over to their weapons; Julia hesitantly walked over, knowing that now really wasn't the time to be angry with her dad. "This is for you."

Luke pulled a brand-new machete out of the weapons storage, complete with its own holster. It was slightly shorter than the ones that he and John were using but it was pretty and it'd get the job done—well, she had never beheaded anything but she assumed her dad wouldn't give the machete to her unless it would do the work.

She knew this was some sort of truce between them. For the moment, Luke wanted her to set aside her anger so they could trust each other and have one another's back. He had done this many times growing up; when he missed her ninth birthday, Luke had come home from his hunt with a set of brand-new daggers. She easily forgave him and still used them to this day. Usually her problems with her dad didn't disappear but she wasn't perfect and she loved presents. What little girl didn't?

For now, she'd accept the truce. She took the machete from him with a small smile. "Thanks, Dad."

So much for the silent treatment.

Luke grinned and tugged on the end of her French braid like he used to do when she was a girl. "There's my girl."

Julia gave him a closed-mouth smile and went back to Sam and Dean, holding it out for them to look at it. Dean was more impressed than Sam was, holding it up and mimicking an attack, slicing through the air with the blade. She couldn't help but laugh when he grinned happily and gave it back to her.

"So," John spoke up once Julia put the holster around her waist and they were all loaded up with whatever weapons they needed. "You three really wanna know about this colt?"

Sam nodded, his temper calmed down from their fight the night before. "Yes, sir."

"It's just a story, a legend really," John started to tell them. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those mean died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun."

"He made it for a hunter," Luke took over the story. "He made thirteen bullets and this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Danny got his hands on it."

"They say...they say that this gun can kill anything," John finished.

"Kill anything," Dean repeated slowly. "Like, supernatural anything?"

Sam stiffened in realization. "Like the demon."

"Yeah, like the demon," John confirmed with a nod. "Ever since Luke and I picked up its trail, we've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. If we find the gun, we may have it."

The five of them split up—John and Luke together while Julia, Sam, and Dean were grouped up—to enter the barn. While John and Luke went to look for the colt, the three of them went to rescue hostages. While Julia and Dean were unlocking the cage full of three human women, Sam went to freeing a woman who was tied to a post, blood all over her. She ended up screaming and alerting all the vampires that they were there, making them abort their mission.

After they got some dead man's blood, which will incapacitate a vampire for a while, and night fell, Julia and Dean were to be the trap for the vampires coming after them. They would make it look like the Impala had quit running, leaving them at the side of the road, looking for help.

Julia crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she watched Dean look over Baby's engine. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to think of what they were about to do; usually she was okay with anxiety before a hunt but she nor Dean had any experience with vampires. She didn't even know if she was strong enough to behead a vampire, for crying out loud.

Dean peeked over at her, giving her a cute smile. "Nervous, shortcake?"

"Yes," Julia didn't bother lying; he knew her tell anyway. "What about you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, his green eyes surprisingly soft. "And you don't have to worry, okay? As long as I'm around, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you."

Julia's heart fluttered in her chest and she couldn't help but grin at him. "Didn't you say that to Sam once?" she teased him. "Are you reusing one-liners, Dean? I never thought I'd see the day."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he shook his head in amusement. "I distracted you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did," she conceded, her eyes flickering to the right when she heard some branches snapping. "Oh, crap."

The smile left Dean's face as he concentrated on the engine again, acting like he had no idea what he was doing. Julia peered over his work, making it seem like she was paying attention to what he was doing.

"Car trouble?" they heard from behind them.

Julia and Dean turned around at the same time, coming face-to-face with an older woman dressed in tacky double denim. She was very obviously a vampire, especially since there was no car around that she would have used to get to them, were she a human.

"Let me give you a lift," the vampire insisted with a seductive smile "I'll take you two back to my place."

"Sorry, we don't do threesomes," Dean said sharply. "And we draw the line at necrophilia, anyway."

"Ooh," the vampire cooed before reaching out and backhanding Dean across the face.

Julia went to help him but another vampire walked over to them—this one was a huge guy—and grabbed her. She was forced to watch as the woman picked Dean up by the chin, raising him up until his feet were off the ground.

"Ugh," Dean grunted. "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date, but..."

While Julia struggled in the man's arms, the woman smirked up at Dean. "You know, we could have some fun," she tempted him. "I always like to make new friends."

The woman lowered her arm until Dean was level with her. She smashed her lips against Dean's, giving him no room to struggle. Julia pushed against the vampire holding her, anger welling in her chest, and shouted for the woman to stop.

"Get off of him!" she yelled at her, still trying to make her way out of the man's arms; he roughly took one of her arms and held it behind her back while placing his other arm in front of her mouth. "Ouch, hey! Let go of me, dammit!"

The woman pulled away from a disgusted Dean and smirked at Julia. "You got yourself a feisty one, don't you," she sent a dig toward Dean as she slowly walked toward Julia. "Mmm...Luther will like you, sweetheart."

Fed up with the talking, Julia kicked back her leg into the man's nuts, making him grunt and let her go. As soon as she was out of his arms, an arrow was shot through his heart and the woman's.

"Damn it," the woman grunted while Julia helped Dean up from where the vampire discarded him; Sam, John, and Luke came out of the woods where they were hiding, bows in their hands. "It barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart," John smirked at her. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

Like clockwork, the woman stumbled and faltered, fainting to the ground. John handed Dean his bow and picked her up. "I'll load her up," John called out toward Luke. "You take care of that one."

Luke grinned and pulled out his machete, angrily leering down at the vampire who was holding Julia. "It'd be my pleasure."

As John went to toss the vampire in Impala's trunk, Luke swung his machete, slicing through the vampire's head with ease.

-

"I told you I'm okay," Julia assured her father as they sat around the campfire he had built.

"That vamp had you pretty tight, Jujube," Luke said worriedly.

"I've had worse," she told him; she had gotten injuries with almost every hunt that she had been on with Sam and Dean—some of them worse than others.

Luke nodded understandingly. "And how is the training going? Are Sam and Dean treating you all right?"

Julia looked over at the truck, where Sam and Dean were talking to their father about his weapon storage. "Yeah, they are," she nodded, turning back to Luke. "and training's going fine. I did an exorcism on an airplane, you know."

Luke grinned. "I know you did," he hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "Listen, Julia, I'm sorry for not being there for you and your sisters. I've been with John on this from the very beginning and I got caught up in it. And, when Levi was killed," he shook his head and Julia was surprised to see him tearing up. "Well, I didn't want to face you girls."

"Why, though, Dad?" Julia didn't understand; a girl always needed her daddy.

"Because I was ashamed," Luke confessed. "We think that girl who was controlling the Daeva, the one who killed Levi, was working with the demon that killed Mary and Jessica. And, if she was, that meant that I brought her right to your brother. I'm the reason he's dead."

Julia grabbed Luke's left hand where his wedding ring was still wrapped around his fourth finger. "Dad, it's not your fault," she whispered, her eyes stinging with her own tears. "You couldn't have known that what happened to Levi would actually happen."

"I should have, though," Luke shook his head. "I've been hunting evil my whole life. I should have known that one of you—if not all of you—would pay the price."

"You can't think like that, Dad," Julia sniffed and wiped away some of her tears with her free hand. "You and Mom protected us the best you could."

Before they could talk anymore, the Winchester men walked over to the fire. John was holding a bundle of herbs, which he threw in the fire, immediately stinking up the vicinity.

"Gross," Julia wrinkled her nose at the smell. "What the hell is that?"

"Saffron, skunk's cabbage, a trillium," John informed her. "It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."

Dean coughed and shook his head. "The stuff stinks."

"That's the idea," Luke let go of Julia's hand and stood up. "Dust your clothes with the ashes and you stand a chance of not being detected."

"And you're sure they'll come after her?" Sam questioned his father, nodding over to the vampire they had tied to a tree.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun but the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half-hour ought to do it," Sam checked the machete in his holster.

"And then we want you three out of the area as fast as you can," Luke ordered.

Julia stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You guys can't take care of them all," Dean protested.

"We'll have her and the colt," John placated him, pointing to the vampire.

"But after, we're gonna meet up, right?" Sam stared hard at his dad. "Use the gun together, right?"

John paused for a long moment, giving them the answer they needed.

Sam scoffed. "You're leaving again, aren't you?" he confronted John. "You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?"

"Like children."

"You are my children," John said firmly. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but that's bullshit," Dean spoke up, earning shocked looks from Sam and Julia.

Never before had Julia heard Dean speak up to his dad like that; and, by the way Sam was looking at his brother, he hadn't heard it either. Julia was proud of him; he was finally sticking up for himself.

John blinked in disbelief at his oldest son. "Excuse me?"

"You know that Sammy, Jules, and I have been hunting," Dean stood his ground. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean."

"Then what is it?" Dean asked him. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon is a bad son of a bitch," John told them slowly, like they were kids wouldn't couldn't understand evil and the danger it brings. "I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean retorted, seeing through his dad's bullshit.

"Look," John sighed. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. You mother's death, it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die?" Dean countered, his voice wavering. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking and I...Maybe Sam's right about this one. We should do this together."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are," Dean continued. "You know it."

John shook his head. "We're running out of time," he changed the subject. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

Luke tapped Julia's shoulder and when she turned to him, he nodded in Sam and Dean's direction. She knew that he was silently telling her to go with them but she agreed with the brothers; they should stick together. Sam and Dean had as much of a right to see this demon dead as John did.

"Go," Luke urged her. "Be careful."

-

While John and Luke left with the female vampire to lure out half of the nest, Julia, Dean, and Sam wiped out the rest of them who were left at the barn. It turned out that after a few tries, Julia did have enough strength to behead a vampire, which gave her much relief that she could defend herself.

After they freed the hostages, they made their way to where the fight between John and Luke and the vampires was going down. When they arrived, the vampires had John knocked out and Luke fighting a lost cause. But the tide turned in their favor when Dean shot an arrow drenched in dead man's blood into one of the vamps.

The three of them rushed at the vampires, their machetes drawn. Sam took out two vampires, one after another, while Dean killed the vampire that had Luke on the ropes. Julia was right behind him, ready to kill one of the last ones when another vampire came up behind her and forcefully pushed her to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. The vampire who pushed her down stood over her, feet on either side of her body, and bent down, backhanding her face so hard she could taste blood. He wasn't finished with her, though; he grabbed her around the neck and lifted her with one hand, swinging her around so his arm could snap her neck and kill her within a second.

Julia's wide and fearful eyes were on a furious Dean, who was posed to attack the vampire, machete raised.

"Don't," the vampire warned him lowly. "I'll break her neck."

Julia inhaled deeply, silently panicking. This wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful.

"Put the blade down."

Dean hesitated, fire in his eyes, and when Julia grunted as the vampire squeezed her neck threateningly, he did as he was told. He raised his free hand and lowered the machete to the ground with the other. Sam dropped his blade as well, raising his hands in the air.

"You people," the vampire hissed as Julia wheezed in his hold. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so."

The vampire whipped around at John's voice, bringing Julia with him. John had the colt in his hand and waited for less than a second before aiming at the vampire and pulling the trigger. The bullet went right between the vampire's eyes, making him still.

Dean hurriedly pulled Julia into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. Sam hovered near them, all three of them watching with wide eyes as the vampire slowly died.

The female that they had caught had tried to go after John but the last one wasn't having it. She dragged her into one of the vampire's cars and drove off, leaving Julia, Dean, Sam, Luke, and John to deal with the rest of them.

The vampire chapter of the story was done for now. They were safe and they had the colt. Now, all they had to do was track that demon down and kill it, just like it killed Mary and Jessica.

(Gif is not mine)

[shes-an-oddbird]

Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary -  A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 9 - Christmas Parade

Summary - While at the annual Christmas parade, Mack and Elena discuss Hope getting older and Mack steps into help when when one of the parade floats breaks down.

Prompt - Christmas Parade Relationship - Mackelena POV - Daniel

Mack wonders if they should have brought chairs with them. Unless there was snow on the ground, they’ve always just watched the parade from the curb with a blanket folded up underneath them and another one pulled around them for warmth. But considering they invited Elena to join them, maybe a chair would have been nice to offer her.

“Dad I don’t see her!”

“Calm down Sparkplug, I just texted her a minute ago.”

“Well, that’s all some of us need.” His heart does a skip at the sound of her voice behind them. Her hands land on his shoulders, her long hair and festive red scarf falling over his shoulder and she leans down to say hello.

“Yoyo, you made it!”

“Of course, the parade is a tradition right?”

Hope nods. They have a few minutes before the parade arrives, although he thinks he can hear the first of the sirens that lead the parade in the distance. The parade, which sets up in the mall parking lot, would makes its way down the main road just outside the mall and then head down towards the small downtown area. They always stayed close by the start so they could head inside after for more activities.

Elena sets her own blanket on the ground next to theirs, sitting close although there wasn’t much other option as the street became more and more crowded. As they wait for the parade to come around the corner they talk about work and weather and other mundane topics.

“So what are we up to after the parade?”

“We’re going to go see the drones, dad finally decided on the right one which is the same one I wanted from the start.” Hope turns her eyes back on him. “Do you think Fitz will be there?”

“I’m sure he will be kid, he’s probably starting to think you’re after his job you ask him so many questions.”

“CANDY!” Several kids scream in excitement as a float from the public library drifts by and the riders dressed as reindeer toss candy canes and chocolate kisses from the sleigh. Hope and the other kids surge forward to collect them.

“I have to buy that damn drone today, I’m afraid if we go back again without buying anything their going to think we’re casing the place.”

“I’m sure they’re used to it, kids are obsessed with those gadget demonstrations.”

“That’s true and half the time we don’t even go in, she just talks with Fitz, the guy who demos them, goes well beyond what I know about them.” Elena looks at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head but she’s grinning like she knows something he  doesn’t.

“What, tell me.”

Still looking far too amused she gives in. “It’s just, it sounds like Hope has a crush on him.”

“What?” Mack laughs. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“Oh come on, she’s only eleven, she’s not old enough to be having crushes yet.” Was she? No she was just a kid, it was ridiculous.

“Oh please, what do you know about it?” Elena laughing now at his utter disbelief.. “I was eleven when I had my first crush, and that was well after all my friends started too.”

“That’s just not like Hope, she still thinks all the boys in her class are stupid.”

She just shrugs. “Maybe that’s part of it, look I bet Hope is the smartest kid in her class right?”

“In the whole grade, maybe the whole school.” He answers proudly.

“Exactly and all her friends are starting to get crushes on these boys who are probably so boring to her, she starts to feel left out.”

That was reasonably to assume but he still only agrees with a hesitant, “I guess.”

“Then she meets Fitz, and Daisy’s told me about him, a brilliant engineer, someone who can have a conversation on her level who’s also nice to her and let’s her test all these drones and gadgets she’s preoccupied with.”

“But he’s– “

She cuts him off. “But he’s what, a grown up, you never had a crush on a teacher before?”

“Alright, I get it.” Mack contemplates this new revelation. When exactly had Hope gotten old enough to have crushes. Was he supposed to do anything about it. He had promised they would go there to get the drone after the parade. “Should I take her back there?”

“I don’t see why not, if you don’t and she finds out why she might think she’s done something wrong,” Elena advises. “But maybe give Fitz a heads up, it’s hard having your first crush at eleven but having your first heartbreak at eleven is ten times worse.”

Mack nods, making a mental note to pull Fitz aside and explain. Then he looks back at Elena a little in awe. “How did you get so good with kids?”

“I’m not, but I was a little girl once, it’s a tough life.”

She’s so pleased with herself. That was one of the first things he realized about her that he really liked; she was confident. Determined and straight forward.

And now they’re exceptionally close together. Forced into each other’s personal space as kids return to the sidewalk, arms full of treats. He blinks and she’s closer again, leaning in towards him.

There’s a deafening screech and they snap apart. The parade has rolled to a stop and a horrible grinding noise is emitting from the truck hauling the River’s End High School’s float. It rolls to a stop and cuts off. The crowd around them chatters in concern while the students frantically dismount the float and the truck bed.

“What’s going on?” One girl yells from the float.

“The truck must have stalled.” Another answers.

“Flint, what’s going on up there!”

The skinny young boy driving the truck leans out the window and shouts back at them. “It won’t turn back on.”

“Gabe, I thought your brother fixed up this thing.” A girl with white-blonde hair storms around the float, frustration evident as she addresses a boy still sitting in the bed of the truck.

“He had the guys at the shop take a look at it.”

“Well can you fix it?”

“Yeah Ruby, let me just jump right down from here and look under the hood.” The boy snapped back sarcastically.

The boy driving the truck jumps out and runs around to the front to lift the hood. “Yeah, I don’t exactly know what I’m looking for here.”

“This is going well.” Elena whispers to him as he watches them concerned.

“Old model, bad engine, probably something one of the kids picked up for cheap.” Maybe it was the mechanic in him but he was already assessing everything wrong with the truck. Even if it hadn’t stalled making it to the end of the parade would be a Christmas miracle.

“Dad, do you think you can help them?” Hopes asks.

“I haven’t got my tools, not sure there is much I could do.”

“I don’t think it could hurt.” Elena says, her eyes wide a the boy at the hood yanks his arm back as it crashes down. He’s joined by a girl with lots of dark curly hair and they open the hood again, steading it on the support.

“Alright.” He pushes himself off the ground “before someone loses a hand.”

Mack jogs out into the parade chaos. He has to clear a path through the crowd of students now converging at the front of the truck.

“This truck belong to one of you?” He shouts.

“It’s mine sir.” The girl with the dark curly hair speaks up.

“You have this problem before?” He asks. A glance over the engine and its not as bad as he anticipated, it’d clearly already had some decent work done on it but unfortunately it doesn’t show any obvious cause to the problem.

“Yes, but someone was supposed to have it checked out for me.” She glares at the boy now wheeling his way towards them.

“Shut it Tess, I’m trying to get Robbie on the phone.”

Mack tries hard not to groan. He’s so not ready for Hope to be on the verge of her teenage years.

He needs to check the radiator and fuel but its too hot to reach for anything with his bare hands. “Have any of you got an old rag or t-shirt?”

“There’s probably one in the truck.”

“Grab if for me, what about a flashlight.”

“I’ve got my phone.” Flint grabs the phone from his pocket and holds it out over the engine.

“Thanks kid.”

“Here.” The girl hands him a stained t-shirt. He manages to get the cap off the radiator but it doesn’t appear to be the issue.

“Was there any odds smells when you were driving?”

Flint shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Alright, that rules out a few possibilities.

“No, Robbie its fine, someone else is here already,” Gabe listened for a second, nodding along unimpressed before holding the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.”

Mack begrudgingly accepts the phone. “This is Mack.”

“Hey,” a voice with an accent like the boy’s greets him shortly, “the truck stalls on inclines and my brother won’t tell me where you are.”

That explains a lot. “They didn’t make it far, we’re on the main road outside the mall.”

“Dammit, my crew was supposed to fix the problem.”

“No worries, I think it’ll start again, its been down for a few minutes, doesn’t seem to have any other issues unless it’s the extra weight.”

“Give it a try, if they can get off that hill the parade levels out, should make it to the end.” Mack nods at Flint who jumps back in the truck.

“Easy.” He calls. Flint starts the engine which, after a long moment, stubbornly springs to life and relief washes over the students. “Alright its going.”

Robbie sighs. “I’ll get a backup truck over there just in case, first I gotta go fire somebody.” Mack chuckles, he doesn’t know this Robbie fellow, but he thinks they’d probably get along.

“I’ll follow along behind them down the hill.”

“Appreciate that.” Mack hands the phone back to Gabe.

“Alright everyone back on board, if you can make it down the hill you should be in the clear.” If there wasn’t a damn marching band in front of them, they could just throw it in neutral and roll. It takes everyone a minute to get back in place so he hurries over to Elena and Hope who are still watching from the curb.

“Everything alright?”

“Should be fine but I’m going to follow them for a bit make sure they don’t get stuck again.” Mack explains. “Do you mind hanging here with Hope?”

“Can’t we walk with you?” Hope asks.

“She can ride with us if she wants.” Tess, the curly haired girl offers. Hope’s eyes light up and she looks pleadingly up at him. Personally, he doesn’t want her anywhere near that truck but at two miles an hour she’d probably be safe.

“Alright, let’s go.” Mack lifts Hope up onto the float. Tess takes her hand and backs her away from the edge.

“Let’s go Flint!” Gabe shouts and the other boy waves his hand out the window. They being to roll and the crowd bursts into applause.

“You saved the day.” Elena nudges his shoulder as they begin to walk along side the float.

“I didn’t really have to do anything.”

“Well, you get credit for trying, I didn’t see anyone else run out there to help, just heard a bunch of moaning and complaining.”

“Yeah well, they’re good kids, but now all I can think about is how that’s going to be Hope in a few years.”

“Don’t worry about that, she’ll be just fine, she’s got an excellent role model to look up to.” She nudges his arm again, this time slipping her hand into his as they walk.

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Be My Garden of Eden Ch.6

I think I’m on chapter 6. IDFK. 

I’m not quite happy with how this one turned out, but I have high hopes for the next one when we jump back into the action.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. We have a busy day tomorrow." You stood up and stretched, yawning. 

"Can I join you?" Connor asked.

"Of course, " you smiled.

You blew out the candles and used your phone to find your way, Connor following after you. You went to your drawers and pulled out pajamas for yourself and the sweats and sweater Connor wore the last time he stayed at your home. Obviously, it was too dark to make him change clothes in the bathroom. You were going to buy batteries for your flashlight after getting Connor out of that club, but seeing him so badly injured, it was easy to forget your meager shopping list.

"Here. Turn around and change." He took the clothes and did what you asked. Under the borrowed clothes, he could see the reminder of his old life, the red boxer briefs with the gold lettering. It makes him wish he could take them off and burn them, burn his old life down to ashes. He quickly hid them under the comfort of your sweatpants.

Connor could see your silhouette on the wall, watching as it removed its clothes. The smooth contour of your body brought to mind his last night in this home, your soft skin welcoming his touch, those blissful sounds leaving your perfect lips. That memory had gotten him through many tough clients in the past. He wishes he could tell you so, how much you've helped him even before you set him free. What he really wants to do is tell you how he feels, but he can't. Not yet. Something in him says that now is not the time.

 When your shadow was dressed once more, he turned back around smiling softly at you as you moved to take your spot on one half of the bed. He did the same. 

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen an android like you before." You spoke. In the dim lighting his LED stemmed, he could see you looking up at the ceiling.

"To be honest, I don't think I've ever seen an android like me either, " Connor confessed. The club had many different models, but they weren't uncommon, "the club owner assumed I was a custom."

"He didn't know?" 

Connor realized that he had never told you of his, less than ideal, origins.

"I was illegally obtained... from the scrap yard." Would you think less of him, knowing he was deemed trash. Whatever his original function was, he had failed it, and before you, he believed that was where he belonged. He had two jobs, and he failed at both of them. 

You took hold of his hand.

"I knew you didn't belong there. To think that you ever had to go to such a terrible place."

"You've been there?" 

"Once. One of the androids I helped... She was injured, and because she was an older model, I couldn't get a replacement part, so I tried searching the scrapyard..." You went quiet, whispering out your next words, "... It was horrible, seeing so many damaged beyond repair. They begged for help... begged for everything to end... I managed to find the part and got out of there as fast as possible."

He rolled over, laying right against you. He pulled you into a tight embrace. You tensed for a second, and he thought for sure he screwed everything up over an impulse, but then you relaxed, leaning into him. 

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. To be honest, I don't remember my time there, " he mumbled into your hair, "All I remember is waking up in the basement of that club, most of my old programming overwritten with pleasure protocols, leaving behind only my name. Even the information about my model number is corrupted."

"That's strange. It sounds like someone didn't want you to be found." You've dealt with androids that had memory problems. They forgot their name, their owners, their old lives, but never their model number. It was something that was ingrained into their code. For Connor to not know his, someone might have scrambled his code on purpose. But why?

Connor remained silent. That was not a possibility he had ever considered. Most of his memory was corrupted, so it didn't surprise him that he didn't know what he was. But, you said it was 'strange'. For someone who knows little about androids to say that, it worries him. Who took the time to destroy such information, and what did he do before that nobody could know about, even himself? If so, were you in danger being with him? 

"Connor?" Your soft voice called to him. He could hear the concern.

"I'm alright. Just thinking, " he mumbled. No, everything will be fine. He was at the club for almost two months, leaving to meet clients regularly, with no incidents. Whoever corrupted his code, they were certain he was gone. "You should get some rest."

"Okay, " you surprised him, and yourself, turning onto your side and snuggling more against his body. His shock wore off quickly, adjusting his hold and relishing the closeness. 

You've never done this, to be held so securely. A part of you felt bad. This was one of his protocols, wasn't it? To offer physical comfort? Still, for three weeks, your mind has been on him constantly. All you could think was how to get him out, if he was alright or if you would save him in time. You couldn't even find solace in painting, instead staring at the one you did of him, having finished it and hung it on the wall. Now, he was here and he was safe. Maybe, just this once, you could be a little selfish. His warmth was quickly lulling you to sleep.

"I'm glad he found me, " Connor whispered a few moments later, knowing you wouldn't hear, "because I got to meet you."

 ..............

"Hi Daniel! My name is Conn-"

"-him and I kill you."

"-m not alive!"

"-tand that noise anymo-"

"Now it's my turn to decide."

Mission Accomplished

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

Connor snapped out of stasis, taking in a few harsh breaths. Other than the blaring red of his LED bathing the room in it's brutal hue, the room was dark. While you had rolled over in his arms during your slumber, you were there, fast asleep. He could feel his body tremble, still under the effects of that... Dream? Nightmare? He had never experienced that before. It had all been so vivid. With the scant amount of memories he did have, he knew that he was witnessing his demise. Whatever it was, he had succeeded and, in the process, destroyed himself.

He gently pulled you a little closer to him and did not enter stasis for the rest of the night.