#there are things you should be upset at? sure but GOD staff get fucking death threats PUBLICLY and yall support it and follow along

[southcodes]

support/staff: we- some of yall: this is the worst thing that you have ever done to this site you ruined my life killed my family called me names

[erenthology]

Underground boxer Eren

Underground boxer Eren. You’re on tour with his team. They travel in his private plane and stay in different hotels while traveling through the states. Both are around the ages 20-23. This is basically “real” by Katy evans. Happy belated birthday Eren🖤 this is a messy filler-ish post, his real birthday fic coming out soon. I’ve had to cover shifts so I haven’t had the time to proofread and post. (Adhd brain)

Tw(?)Eren has a soft spot for reader. He’s a perv. They act like a couple but reader thinks Eren is just being nice. Eren is delusional. Reader is naive. Smut, Slight dub-con. Aftercare is slightly mentioned. Obsessive, possessive Eren. He’s immature. Very touchy. Let me know if I should add to this! Not proofread so there will be mistakes. Enjoy!

“Oh, there she is” Eren turns his head in amusement mid convo but stops in his tracks when he meets your eyes

Boxer!Eren who falls obsessively in love with the new sports rehab specialist on his team. He said he didn’t want one but Armin, his manger, insisted. thank god

Boxer!Eren who immediately tells Armin to place your seat next to his on the private plane.

“Need my sports therapist today, Armin. Send her to me.” “Eren, she’s a sports REHAB specialist.”

Boxer!Eren who knockouts his opponents to impress you

Boxer!Eren looks for you in the crowd during every fight to catch your reactions

Boxer!Eren who gets mad when you talk to the other staff. You’re supposed to be there for him

Boxer!Eren who deliberately gets hit in the rink when he’s feeling deprived of attention so he’ll get you to touch him

Boxer!Eren who forces you hold his hand when walking down the lobby since guys were fucking staring at you (they’re literally staring at Eren since they’re there for him)

Boxer!Eren almost cums in his pants when you show up one day in a too short a short skirt and tank top! He tries to look you in the face when you tell him good morning but he just can’t when your tits are right in his face

Boxer!Eren who’s feeling very, very possessive and semi freaks out all day, sending death glares to anyone who dares to stare. He even tries to cover your smaller frame with his body.

Boxer!Eren makes sure you feel his hips slightly pushing into your back when he’s reaching for something above your head, eyefucking you through staff meetings, charming you with compliments throughout the day. “You look like an angel, ya know that?” Using his panty melting smile that he knows has an affects on the ladies. Right??

Boxer!Eren who sometimes does things like run his hand through your hair in public so it’ll look like you’re a couple to any passerby’s. “What’re you doing?” “Hm?” He bends forwards as if he couldn’t hear you. “Oh, you just had something in your hair” sneaky fucker

Boxer!Eren ask’s if he can have some of your water? His is literally on the side. And makes sure to brush his fingers against yours when you give him your bottle with a bright smile on your face. He wants to kiss you on the spot.

Boxer!Eren is having the worst day. You’ve been laughing with Armin for 10 minutes straight. 10 minutes. Do you like him or something? He aggressively makes it known that he’s upset and decides not to speak to either of you. Didn’t last a second.

Boxer!Eren who tries to be in your proximity at all times. jumps at every opportunity to carry your luggage, walk you to your room, joining your morning walks. The guys tease him about his changed behavior when he’s around you but he doesn’t give a fuck. He likes to imagine you’re a couple already <3

“Alright [name], let me know when you’re done. I’ll wait for you” he waves, absolutely lovestruck.

“Eren do you have time to look over this real quick?” Jean asks

“Fuck off”

Boxer!Eren who had flowers delivered to your room and only gets a pat on the shoulder and a “thank you, Eren.. you’re such a great boss to your staff” back. Are you that fucking oblivious? He just wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you til you understand you’re his. Instead he forces a smile, “I’ll buy you whatever you want, baby.” And he certainly doesn’t miss the way you instantly start playing with your hair. Oh? Did he just make you nervous?

Boxer!Eren who’s finally had enough and books you into a two bedroom suit with him. “incase he needs to rehabilitate at night.”

Boxer!Eren who fantasizes the whole time about you to sucking him off to help him ease from all the stress. Or better yet bury his head in between your thighs. He just can’t stand being so close to you knowing you’re barely in any clothing, you know? …What do you wear to bed anyway? He needs to know.

Boxer!Eren who then knocks on your hotel door that night and ask’s if he can sleep with you :(

Boxer!Eren who said he just wants to cuddle but slowly pushes his knee between your thighs, rutting his hips into yours while holding you. “Wha-what’re you doing?” “[name] you feel so good,” inhaling your scent. “please just..just let me?” he pants, lips brushing your neck. Delighted with happiness when you nod.

Boxer!Eren who turns you onto your stomach, splays his larger hand on your back, slowly dry humping and tugging on your hair. The sight of you helplessly under him almost makes him cum on the spot

Boxer!Eren put you onto his lap mid-make out. pushing his hand into your panties with gentle touches. “Feels good? He ask’s when you moan into his kisses. “Yeah? you want my fingers in you?” The sight of you disheveled makes him go crazy. Harshly repeating the word “mine” again, and again against your lips.

Boxer!Eren who finally gets you on your knees in front of him, looking like you’re ready to do anything he pleases. Not a thought to play around with..

Boxer!Eren who’s been groping and touching all night. He’s currently sucking on your tits while jerking himself off against your entrance. “never been this hard before, please baby, lemme put it in. need you” he kisses until you give in

Boxer!Eren who whispered sweet nothings but literally folds you in half as he presses into you. He just can’t help himself. The sounds of his balls slapping against your skin and a mixture of your strangled noises fill up the room. He moves inside you, over you, into you. “fuck, fuck yes, like that, baby. You’re so good for me.”

Boxer!Eren who thanks you with a kiss on the forehead and whispers how good you’ve been for him. Then cradles you to sleep in his arms.

Boxer!Eren is delighted when he wakes up with your soft but pressed against his morning wood. Nuzzling his face into your neck. He smiles to himself. Knowing he’ll visit your room every night. You’re his to take care of from now on.

Xoxo

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fathering a Phantom ch2

I just wanna Talk, I swear

Here we have the chapter 2 for that fic from earlier! Once again, here ya go @five-rivers @floralflowerpower and @uwuplasmiusuwu

“Cole I’m going to murder someone,” was the first thing that Toby said to his husband upon arriving once more in their temporary sanctuary. Cole paused mid throw of his javelin, electric sparks crackling up the polearm, and turned to look at his husband. Toby’s wings were ablaze, his nails sharpened into claws, and his eyes a colorful storm, as though he couldn’t decide what to turn into for maximum lethality. Cole set down his javelin and wrapped around Toby in a hug.

“Who are you planning to murder, sunshine? And should I join in? I haven’t gotten into a good fight since we got here, which is a shame.” Cole coalesced from a mass of clouds into something a bit closer to his original body when Toby relaxed in his embrace, running his fingers through shimmering feathers made of embers. “You really do look like a star like this, by the way.”

“There was, I think, a war forged around here who fired a bunch of rockets at a child! You know that liminal kid I told you about?”

“Oh right, we’re rare in this realm, huh?” Cole’s face scrunched up in confusion and he arched a brow. “I thought the liminal around here beat up the tyrant ruling the place when he woke up?”

“I didn’t exactly ask about what must’ve sucked when I half blew up the metalhead.” Toby flew over to the couch and flopped face first into it. “Now I gotta track him down.”

“Why only half? Sounds like someone you’d take out in one go if you had the drop on em.”

“Well, do you wanna traumatize a kid of unknown cultural origins? He’s so small, and his friends were clearly still living humans. I dunno if he’s seen someone die before, let alone a ghost getting Ended. If I recall, committing murder is a bad way to start a friendship with a child.”

Cole snorted and gave Toby a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, fair, Sildar didn’t like me much after that rescue. But hey, now you can put that on your to do list! Murder, the answer to most problems.” Toby laughed, phasing through the couch when Cole sat on him. “There he is, my giggly celestial chandelier.”

“Do you even remember what a chandelier is? I know you broke like three of them over someone’s head, but I forget whose head.” Toby put out the flames in his feathers and stretched, satisfied when his spine popped a few times. “It’s nice to still be able to do that.”

“I’ll be honest, being a cloud has made the sound of your joints popping kinda gross to me. It sounds like you’ve still got a flesh and blood body.” Cole sat up, scratching his head. “Do you still have a humanoid body? With like, meat and bones and stuff?”

“Probably, yeah. We’ll see, cause if so that’ll come in handy with helping out this liminal kid. Said his name is Danny Phantom.” Toby paused, the feeling of his feather being torn an odd and upsetting one. “Speaking of whom, I should go meet up with them. Think you can find this ‘Skulker’ guy while I educate some kids?”

Cole kissed Toby on the cheek and gave him a thumbs up. “Will do! I can’t promise there’ll be much left of him afterward though, I’m not a fan of idiots who attack kids.” Toby smiled and in a flash of light and beat of wings, he was gone. Cole nodded to himself and grabbed his maul, crackling with electric arcs, and opened up the door to their temporary Sanctuary. “Now then, who the fuck is Skulker?”

After having a small debate about where they couldn’t go and why, team Phantom finally ended up at the indoor roller rink that was partially destroyed by a giant ghost crab a while ago, and sat down at a table that Danny cleared of debris with an ectoblast or three. “Ok guys, I think this is a good enough place to call him up.”

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to call him at all?” Sam held up the feather she’d kept in her pocket, turning it about to watch the golden flame dance. “He took down Skulker pretty fast and it usually takes you a good half hour to do that, Danny.”

“Skulker specializes in attacking Danny is all, Sam. We’ve got the weapons to handle pretty much any ghost we normally deal with, and Danny took down the king of ghosts. I’m pretty sure he can handle anyone else.”

“Plus, Toby wrecked Skulker pretty bad. If he wanted to fight, I’m pretty sure he would’ve started a fight.” Danny condensed his ectoblasts into one ball of ectoplasma and stretched it out into a pole. “Imagine all the cool stuff he could show us!”

“Alright, if you say so.” Sam snapped the feather in half, surprised by how easy it was to do, and grabbed her ecto-pistol. For a moment, there was silence. Then the sound of wingbeats filled the room and Toby appeared above the rink as though landing from a long flight.

“That’s a spell I’m not used to casting frequently in a day. Heyo kids!” Toby waved, tucking his wings by his sides while walking closer. “Sorry for the delay, I was talking to my husband. So, names again just to be sure: Sam, Tucker, and Danny, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. What do you mean spell, exactly? Do ghosts have magic ontop of the other ghost powers now?” Tucker spun the lipstick laser around in his fingers, remembering Desiree’s magic and Freakshow’s staff.

“Anyone who can do magic keeps the ability in death, usually. I’m not dead though, I’m Deathless.” He spread his wings and spun around, thumbs pointing to his chest. “I was born awesome like this, and so was Cole. But, based on your faces you weren’t born like this?”

“No,” Sam said, gesturing at Danny. “This is a recent thing, it’s been since about…” Sam paused, her gaze landing on the wall behind Toby. “March of last year, so 14 months.”

“Yeah, god, we’ve been doing this for over a year now, haven’t we?” Tucker, who had held up a camera to record everything Toby was saying, slumped a bit in his seat and sighed. “Feels like it’s been like this forever and like it happened yesterday.”

Toby stared at them all like they’d each grown extra limbs in odd places – Danny even checked to make sure he hadn’t done that while feeling both old and young at the same time due to how little time had actually passed – before zipping over to Danny and holding his hands just over the teen’s face. “Oh my gods, you’re a baby.”

“I am a teenager, thank you.” Danny gently pulled Toby’s hands away from his face, a brow raised. “What, is 14 infantile to angels, feather man?”

“You’re only 14 months dead, Danny, that makes you a baby ghost.” Sam snorted and Tucker covered his mouth to try and hide his laughter. A snap of Toby’s fingers and flowers began growing in Tucker’s hat, and seeds appeared above Sam, growing into flowers as they fell all over her. “If you’ve had regular interactions with that metal head, no wonder your aura’s all aggro.”

“Skulker’s not exactly the worst of the ghosts we’ve had to fight over the months,” Danny said.

“Oh yeah, that’d have to be either Walker, Spectra, or Vlad. It’s really a toss up between Spectra and Vlad, if you ask me.”

“Vlad wants to kill Danny’s dad because he sees his mom as a trophy that was stolen from him, while Spectra tried to kill Jazz just to depress an entire school so she could feed on the misery to look young.” Sam brushed away the flowers and weighed two in her hands. “Yeah, those around the same level of grossly evil.”

Toby’s wings ignited at some point while Sam was talking, and the sunlight streaming in from the hole in the roof grew somewhat brighter. He reached into a bag he had strapped to his waist and pulled out a book and a pen, his smile all teeth. “Tell me, please, a list of all the adult ghosts who have attacked you children? I’d like to have a discussion with each of them.”

“If we give you their names,” Danny said before Tucker could answer, “do you promise not to go slaughtering them all? I don’t need to know ghostly body language at all to know that flaming wings come from a place of anger and imminent violence.”

“When did you read a thesaurus, Danny?”

“Sam, I’m insulted: I know tri-syllabic words. I can even say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“I promise not to slaughter all of the ghosts you inform me hurt you in the past few months, yes. Names?” When Tucker listed off names, Toby wrote them down with an inhuman speed, and Danny exchanged a look with Sam, worried about how exactly that deal might be loopholed around. “Right,” Toby chirped while slamming his book shut, “I’m here to answer some questions of yours, not just ramble about myself and assemble a… list of people to talk to. Got any?”

“So many that I don’t even know where to start.”

[lunnybunny12]

Sandor Clegane X reader (Rory)

MODERN AU

A/N: This is a modern AU based off of this headcanon. 

Word count: 2036

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mentions of death

Master List

As an Infantry Soldier, Sandor served in the field, working to defend his country against any threats on the ground. He'd capture, destroy, and deter enemy forces, assist in reconnaissance, and help mobilize troops and weaponry to support the mission as the ground combat force. He'd seen good people get murdered, shot, hanged, killed. People with families to get back to and friends who would miss them. Sandor had neither, and yet he was allowed to return.

He took a large gulp of his drink and looked at his surroundings. Sandor had been to the bar many times before and the familiar hum of other patrons as they'd pull frothing glasses of beer to their lips was there like always. He heard the occasional clicks from the back where the pool-tables were placed. The smell of alcohol, snow and pine-scented air freshener drifted through the air as you dragged a damp rag across the bar.

"Oi Barkeep. Beer." Sandor called, fiddling some change from his pocket.

"Keys first, Dogface. Then you can drink," You retorted, not moving from your place at the bar. (Dogface- A nick-name for Infantrymen because they sleep in "Pup-tents" and hide in "dugouts")

Sandor sighed in annoyance and paused to look at you. It hadn't been the first time you had told him this, he never understood why but he knew full well that you weren't joking with him.

"Again?"

"Yes, again. now hand them over."

He begrudgingly did as he was told and slid the car keys across the bar, avoiding your outstretched hand completely. You snatched them away and placed them in your pocket, with a fake glare.

"Good boy. They'll be in the same place when you come to pick them up tomorrow." You said popping of the cap of a beer and sliding it towards him and going back to cleaning the bar.

"You're lucky you're one of the few people I can stand in this town" He grumbled.

"Oh I feel so honoured" you joked and rolled your eyes.

Since there were other customers to attend to you couldn't talk long, but it's not like he'd say much to you anyway. The community he had found himself in was quite tight-knit. Everyone knew everyone and it was tricky to not run into someone who had something to talk about. Sandor however was a very quiet individual who often kept to himself making him stand out to many of the residents.

As the night continued and other staff started their shifts, Sandor found himself looking at you from time to time. He watched you collect glasses, chat to customers, tell jokes and take orders. He found himself doing it allot recently and he didn't understand why. At some points, he had even begun te eavesdrop on your conversations since he had nothing better to do.

"Ah (y/n) hows Rory? Heard the lad had an accident" A customer asked as you took their order.

Sandor's ears pricked up. He'd never heard of a Rory before at least not from you, and from what he knew there wasn't a Rory in the village.

"Yeah, the silly thing fell down the stairs and hurt his leg. He's upstairs having a lie-down. he should be up and about in a few days though," You chuckled.

You had changed so much since he was dragged off to the army. You weren't a crazy teenager anymore but a grown woman, with a proper paying job and a life outside of work. Yet you were still the same when it came to your personality: humerus, silly, carefree, cheerful and stupid... my god were you stupid, you had to have been to be his friend.

"Right, consider me.. clocked out" You smiled to yourself and looked at Sandor.

"Why do you need to clock out? You own the bloody place." Sandor said.

"Yes, but its this new fangled technology thing that Mr Ray insisted I use, and you know what he's like. 'His town his rules.' Plus it helps me keep tabs on whos working."

"At least you understand half of the tripe you just said." Sandor joked taking another sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you headed towards the door. "Goodnight everyone!" You yelled earning a cheer of goodnights.

Everything was different when Sandor went away. One day he was there and the next he wasn't, no warning, just a letter that said that he had been accepted into the army and to not expect him back for a long time, that was if he came back at all.

When he did eventually return he had also changed. His personality remained the same, as you expected but he had changed physically. He was taller, broader and stronger and his hair had been cut making his burn a more prominent feature.

If it was up to you, you would've stayed away from him but since yours was the only bar in town, he would come for a drink. Out of politeness you talked to him and sent the occasional harmless jab his way and in return he was civil. You were still angry that he hadn't said goodbye but you still cared, you must have done to take his keys.

It was misty that morning. All mornings were misty since the Autumn season rolled around. You loved Autumn. You loved the feeling of the wind rushing past your face and how the leaves crunched beneath your boots. Your favourite place to walk was at the park and since Rory had stopped limping around your apartment, you thought the park was a good idea.

Rory was a large thing. The hound was easily half your height when stood on all fours and towered above you when on his hind. In his youth, he would have been jet black and full of energy but as he aged, the fur around his snout and paws had dimmed to a light grey and he had mellowed out.

As you walked along the wet grass a sudden yelp bit through the air.

"Someone get their fucking dog!"

You immediately ran to the voice to see Sandor, on the ground with your dog licking his face.

"Rory! come here. You silly thing" you laughed as you latched the lead onto the dog's collar and pulled him away from Sandor.

The man looked awful. His hair was a mess and he was covered in dirt. The shirt he wore was the same as the day prior and he seemed half asleep.

"Were you sleeping in the bush?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine thanks for asking" Sandor huffed as he pulled himself off of the grass.

He was in a mood and in all honesty, you would be too if you were sleeping in a bush.

"What kind of dog is that? Looks like a living mop"

"He's a wolfhound and I can guarantee he's cleaner than you."

"Well, you try and stay clean when you've been sleeping in the park for 5 days," Sandor growled, dusting off some leaves from his pants.

"5 days?" you asked. "You've been sleeping here for 5 DAYS! What happened to your apartment?"

"No money to pay for an apartment."

"What about your job?"

"Why do you care?" Sandor asked, bending down to grab the blanket that was hidden in the shrubbery. He was about to walk away until you stood in front of him with a serious look.

"I care because we were friends once and I'll be dumbed if I let my friend sleep in the cold. So I will ask again... What about your job?"

The look Sandor gave you wasn't out of shock or surprise. It was a look of familiarity. A look of relaxed friendliness that you hadn't seen since before he left.

Sandor sighed and scratched his neck. " My job fired me a few weeks ago. Said that 'I have talents that could be useful elsewhere.'"

"They fired you without reason?"

"I stacked boxes (Y/n) and that's all I did."

"Load of cunts," you sighed. "Right you're coming home with me, you're gonna get a shower and we can talk about a job later."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, but you're getting it anyway. Follow me Dogface."

A month had passed since then and things once again changed.

You gave Sandor a job at the bar more suited to his skillset and became the security. The town was a tourist hotspot in the summer months and you would get the occasional rowdy bunch that you nor the rest of the residents liked to deal with. In the other months, Sandor would just hang around, help with any shipments that required heavy lifting and occasionally cover for a staff member. Since you couldn't have him sleeping in his car or in a bush you gave him the spare room in your apartment and when he could afford it he insisted on paying rent and wouldnt take no for an answer.

One day when Sandor came back from his shift, he was met with you, laying on the couch with Rory draped over you with his head on your chest. Rory had done this more than once and you thought it was adorable, whether it was to protect you or because he was cold you didn't know but it was adorable just the same.

"You look comfortable," Sandor said slipping off his shoes at the door.

"Oh, I am. Very much so. I was in the mood for cuddles and since you weren't here Rory stepped up" you joked, petting the sleeping dog.

At the corner of your eye, you saw Sandor's demeanour change. He straightened his posture and took a sharp breath in.

"You alright?

"I'm fine. move your legs." Sandor said sitting on the couch beside you as he leaned to grab the tv remote.

He had been doing that a lot. Whenever you joked about ding something a couple would do, he would shy away or close himself off and to be honest you were only half-joking. It why you were so upset when he left without a word of warning. You liked him but if he liked you was a different story.

"You jealous?" You asked

"Jealous?" Sandor chuffed. "Of Rory? Nah. You wouldn't go for an old dog like him"

"I like old dogs. They have more charm and personality than the younger ones." You answered as you ran your fingers through Rory's fur and kissed him on the head.

Sandor sighed and continued to look at the TV. He looked so handsome to you, he always did. Sure he was rough around the edges but its what drew you to him in the first place.

"I like you too, you know."

"What?" Sandor laughed and looked a you. He thought you were joking like you usually did but by the look on your face, you weren't.

By that point Rory had jumped off of the couch to get some water, allowing you to sit properly.

"I like you, Dogface."

"In what way?"

"In a romantic way... since before you left" a second of silence cut between you when you started laughing at yourself. Like a real laugh. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, it's not like you feel the same anyways."

"How do you know I don't like ya?"

"Look at me, Sandor. The only men in my life  are you, the customers and my dog, I'm not exactly a noble-born am I? Just a daft bar made"

You stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a few beers.

"I like a daft bar made. They're way more entertaining than the smart ones."

"Very funny" you said handing him a bottle and sitting back on the couch with a huff.

"I also like my bar made: brave, and strong, and funny. With... a nice dog and a home of her own. Look, I like you too. I like being around you. I...I like your face."

You laughed and shuffled closer to him and leant your head on his shoulder.

"Cute" you mumbled and leant up to kiss his cheek. " I like your face too"

[dinopopduck]

Ezekiel Only Being Unaffected By Certain Kinds of Magic

Let’s just start with me saying this isn’t exactly a new theory. It’s the demigod thing, and it’s a fairly popular one. If you haven’t heard of this headcannon, I put as much as I can find here. If you have, I found a bunch of new stuff that I haven’t seen anyone else mention, so reading this isn’t a complete waste of your time, I hope.

I tried to keep this from becoming wordy, but it got really long anyway, because there was a lot to talk about here.

Ezekiel being unaffected by magic is sort of an ongoing thing in the show. He is influenced by it much of the time, such as by Santa’s Hat, Pan’s Flute, Prospero’s spell, lycanthropy, etc. When it comes to the stuff he was seemingly completely immune to, there is one link that connects them all.

Apple of Discord: Everybody knows this one. The Apple is a Greek artifact, meant to turn you into the worst version of yourself, and Ezekiel was only one completely unaffected. It’s blamed on “he’s already the worst version of himself” or whatever.

Zeus Lightning Bolt: the episode where Ezekiel ends up decked out in Greek armor, and is sent to pick up Zeus’ Lightning Bolt, which was freaking out and zapping everywhere. He picks it up just fine, and he’s then able to hand it off to Flynn. It may have been purely because of the Greek armor he was wearing, but Flynn did not seem so sure about that working.

Cindy’s Love Potion: Ezekiel is able to be near the potion without becoming obsessed with Cindy. At first, it’s blamed on him being obsessed with himself, then later Jacob tells Ezekiel that he was already in love with Cindy. It was an obsession, not a love, potion you literally spent the episode proving that blah blah, he didn’t even recognize her at first blah blah, anyway, I have a better reason.

There are two Greek mentions in this episode. First, the potion project itself is called Project Aphrodite, a Greek goddess. Second, the sunflowers; when asked, Jenkins mentions how sunflowers are a Greek symbol of unrequited love. In addition, “love” potions may have originated in Greece, or at the very least, were common enough to have multiple sites claim that, lol. At the end of the season, where each librarian uses their gifts to turn Apep mortal, this greek potion is what Ezekiel ends up using.

See a pattern here? Everything that he was completely unaffected by was Greek in some way. So, he has an immunity to these kinds of artifacts, but why? I vote demigod.

Anyway, moving on.

Here’s some magic he could have been immune to, or could not have been. Its pretty debatable.

Fortuna: Technically a Roman Goddess, but the show does acknowledge how similar they are to Greek Gods. He may have been affected by the spell, but broke out of it pretty quick. Some think he may not been affected at all; slot machines aren’t exactly fair, especially in a casino that exists to cheat completely. As for Ezekiel getting so upset over losing, what he says, “Not the guy that loses, I’m the guy that wins” sounds very similar to what he was saying in Point of Salvation, but that’s a whole nother topic.

Alternately, he was affected and this point shouldn’t be here. I don’t know, I’m not the writers.

Libris Fabula: He was a little bit affected, just far less than the others, as he acted pretty much the same. He did get a barely noticeable clothing change, became luckier than normal, and was just able to cast a spell for some reason? Speaking out that spell, it froze the guy, and a certain Greek God does have the ability to put people to sleep. Not really the same thing, but worth thinking about. Maybe. More on that later.

Most people think he was immune, but he could have just been similar enough to the character he was portraying that he didn’t need to change a whole lot.

These ones are barely worth mentioning, because have other reasonable (though I guess your definition of reasonable may be different from mine) explanations, but you could see them as magic immunity as well:

Silver Screen: Ezekiel gets into character the least, while Cassandra and Jacob are out singing and calling people by their character names. Maybe less affected, maybe just a spoilsport. Probably the last one.

Point of Salvation: Was the only one able to remember previous loops. Since they were in a video game, it’s explained that since he was the first through the door, he became the player while everyone else became NPCs. I mean, sure.

Christmas Thief: Saint of Thieves only used his truth telly power on Ezekiel’s mother, not him. Ezekiel did not feel obligated to say anything. Could just be that the guy wasn’t talking to Ezekiel. Or, earlier in that episode Ezekiel tells his mother he doesn’t steal anymore (at least for anything other than the Library, I assume, cause he still kinda does) and therefor that made him immune to the spell, since it only works on thieves.

Image of an Image: Both Cassandra and Ezekiel got their pictures taken, and Cassandra was the only one affected by the transfer spell. However, Ezekiel wasn’t one of the “chosen ones” because he snuck in, and jumped in front of the camera while Eve (one of the “chosen ones”, who was later able to be affected) turned away. Either that, or he just didn’t have time to feel the effect, since his picture was taken after Cassandra’s, and Eve’s was placed in manually.

That’s all the possible instances of magic immunity I could think of.

Next, we have some other stuff that is relevant to this point, but wasn’t necessarily artifact/magic immunity.

Prophecy Cube: Created by the Oracle of Delphi, who is from Greek mythology. This isn’t about whether Ezekiel was affected by something, as he was still able to use the prophecy glass/get stuck in the cube. Rather, it’s about the Zeus Challenge in the cube. They probably would have died in there, but luckily, Ezekiel had just happened to steal, and keep on him, the exact thing they needed to get through– a bunch of golden coins, and a prophecy that ensures at least one coin can’t be destroyed. Luck? Prophecy? Divine Intervention? Plot convenience? Okay its probably the last one but STILL

Also, Ezekiel getting pissed at Zeus.

Zeus’s Bolt (again?): There is a promo image I think for season 4? that has each of the Librarians holding their tools. Jacob had his axe, Cassandra had a notebook, Flynn had Excalibur, all normal, except for Eve and Ezekiel. Eve had this big staff thing I didn’t recognize, and Ezekiel had Zeus’ Bolt for some reason?

Lightning, just, in general: If there is wild electricity in an episode, Ezekiel is probably around.

Examples:

City of Light: Gets shocked and knocked backwards into Jacob by a very electrified fence, gets up right afterwards and is fine.

Broken Staff: The Zeus Bolt thing, you get it.

Image of an Image: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob. Jacob was not really fine. He lived, though.

Point of Salvation: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob part 2 Electric Boogaloo, but this time on purpose. He was not fine. He died. But don’t worry, he lived.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Mentioned a little bit above, Ezekiel, Jacob, and a student get stuck in the Zeus Challenge, and Ezekiel uses some coins he just so happened to steal recently. Throwing them on tiles shows whether or not lightning will strike if it was stepped on. Seriously, why is it ALWAYS Jacob?

The Dark Secret: Ezekiel is the one sent to wrap a cord around a lightning rod constantly being struck by lighting. “Why am I bloody doing this”, he asks? I mean, Zeus probably isn’t going to kill his descendent(?), right?

Werewolves: Have you heard of the Lycaon of Arcadia? It’s a Greek myth. Basically, this dude named Lycaon wants to test how smart and all-knowing Zeus is. To do so, he kills his own son, cooks him, and serves him to Zeus to see if he notices, ya know, no biggie. Zeus was like “wtf man” and brings the son back to life, and turns Lycaon into, you guessed it, a wolf. So, Zeus creates a werewolf of sorts, maybe one of the firsts. In Fangs of Death, Ezekiel just so happens to be the one (main) character to be turned into werewolf. So, if he was a descendant of Zeus, imagine how big of a “fuck you” that was to the god. That all being said, Ezekiel was turned by an Egyptian god, so that might not have been intentional. Also, they may have just been avoiding turning Jacob, because there is already a werewolf named Jacob and they didn't want another Twilight reference in that episode.

Family/Name: Ezekiel is adopted, and his adoptive mother mentions how she took him in off the streets. Because of that, we don’t know who his birth parents are, and whether or not he, or anyone else, knows is unknown. Soooo, we can take some creative liberties as to who his parents might have been.

As for his name, it carries some religious connotations. It should be remembered though, the meanings I’m talking about here are Biblical, not Greek, so again, might mean nothing for this argument. “Ezekiel” is “God’s Strength” or “God will Strengthen”. Jones might also be something like “God is gracious” or “God has favored”, thought different sites say different things. However, I’m pretty sure the name Jones came from his adoptive mother, and apparently Jones is a common last name in Australia. His first name is more relevant, because all of his siblings have themed names; Mercy, Charity, and Honor. So, either his mom named him differently because she knew something we don’t, or he already had the name before she adopted him. Either way, this probably means absolutely nothing. But what are we here for? To analyze a dead show like an English teacher analyzes the color of curtains in an 100 year old text. If it wasn’t for all the other stuff, I probably wouldn’t think about this too much.

Okay. So Greek stuff, lightning, and Zeus himself come up a LOT when it comes to this guy. So is Ezekiel the son of Zeus? Possibly, but a more popular theory is that he’s Zeus’ grandson. Because Zeus’ son just so happens to be Hermes; god of things such as luck, travel, money, trade, and most importantly, thieves. Oh, and animal husbandry/shepherds and sleep, I don’t know how much those apply but I will try.

Time for some comparisons, honestly most of these don’t even need to be explained so I’ll keep it short-ish, cause this shit has gotten way too long already.

Luck: Ezekiel, especially in the first season, likes to rely on luck, and tends to be very lucky in general. Examples where this is mentioned include Fables of Doom and Apple of Discord. “Smarter to be lucky then lucky to be smart!”

Travel: We can assume that he ended up traveling in his previous job (that being heists all over the world) fairly often, even before the Library. Becoming a Librarian with a teleporting door increased that of course.

Money: Steals very high-value items to sell. Also apparently likes to take money from his coworker’s wallets. And probably everyone else’s.

Trade: The aforementioned high-value pieces he steals are traded/sold for money. In Christmas Thief, we find out he kept none of the money or items, giving it away to others who needed it. That kinda fits this category, I think.

Thieves: I really don’t need to explain this. Unless you haven’t seen the show.

Animal Husbandry/Shepherds?: Basically the care of animals. Um, well he doesn’t keep cows or anything, but he has a tendency to “adopt” magical creatures that need help. Stumpy, Nessie Jr., maybe Frankenstein’s Monster as well?

Sleep: I mentioned earlier how Ezekiel froze a guy (not really in an icy way, just couldn’t move) by hitting him with his coin. Hermes is able to send people to sleep with his Caduceus (the snake wand thing). Yeah, it’s not really the same thing, though you could consider being frozen a kind of sleep. He could have just been lucky enough to find a magical coin, and lucky enough to figure out how to use it at the exact right time without even knowing what it did. It’s a stretch either way, really, and was never explained in the episode at all. Yeah, I can't find anything else that fits.

Hermes is considered to be a thief and trickster, and a lot of the things he is god of are Ezekiel’s main occupations. With all those similarities to Hermes, frequent events related to lightning and Zeus related things, and immunity to Greek artifacts, we can conclude that he is perhaps the son of Hermes, taking after his father in abilities and getting visits from grandpa.

Alternatively, his somehow IS Hermes, but I doubt that. He’d probably be way more powerful. He was also able to see the future with Prophecy Glass, which Jenkins claims is impossible for immortals to do (although in that case he was talking about a Prophecy Cube, but close enough). It’s more likely that he is a demigod.

Okay, that is all I can think of that is relevant. I binged the series about two months ago, and have been thinking about this theory. I went ahead and re-watched the episodes that I mentioned in more detail, as well as parts of others that I remebered. The reason I bring this up is because I may have missed things. I did not rewatch a majority of the episodes, more that I looked at a list of episodes on wikipedia and tried to remember what happened in them, watching clips and episodes if I needed to.

The show was cancelled, so we’ll probably never get a confirmation as to who Ezekiels’ birth parents were, and as such, you can’t prove me wrong! That being said, if I got any facts incorrect in this, please tell me so I can fix it. I’m not well versed on Greek Mythology, in fact I know basically nothing, and did the research as I went along. So again, there could be more. This is just what I found in like, less than a day of searching.

Join me next time on “How is Cassandra magical, where’d she get it from? Also, were we ever gonna meet her parents?” And “In the first episode of season 3, Jacob is just able to hit a heavy punching bag of its chain, across the room, at bullet speed, just because of a shift of his wrist, and later in that episode do the same thing to Apep, and it’s just…never addressed or spoken about again? Like wtf man?”

I'm probably not doing that

If you managed to get through all of this, thank you, and I hope this wasn’t too painful to read.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Strangers (Part 5)

Summary: After dinner with Dean’s parents, he’s a little off and the reader attempts to make him feel better but discovers something in the process that sets her on edge...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x patient!reader

Word Count: 1,600ish

Warnings: language, mention of surgery/injury/death, angst

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Final part coming soon!

____

“That went well,” you said after dinner as you helped wash up a pan. “Your parents seem nice.”

“They were excited to see Sam,” said Dean.

“You sure you didn’t want to go out for a drink with them?” you asked. He shook his head and you set the pan aside, wrapping your arms around his waist. He let out a sigh and you hugged him tight. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m okay.”

“I think Sam wants to stay here even though your parents offered to let him stay with them,” you said.

“I know he does.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” you asked, resting your head against his back. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Kid in my last surgery died on the table,” he said. “His parents...it was routine and he died. His dad...it's the worst part of my job,” he said.

“Did you try your best?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you did everything you could.”

“I know. Can we just lay in bed tonight?” he asked. You nodded and followed him back to his bedroom. You went to your drawer and pulled out some pajamas, wide eyed when you saw Dean take off his shirt.

“What happened?” you asked, dropping the clothes. He tried tugging his shirt on but you took it, Dean trying to cover the marks on his arms, showing one on his ribs. “Did the father…”

“He was upset and he shoved me. It’s really not a big deal,” he said.

“It’s a big fucking deal,” you said, resting a hand on his ribs. “You’re hurt.”

“His son died. He was a tad upset. I don’t blame him,” said Dean. “Parents are devastated when I have to tell them that they will never see their kid alive again.”

“It doesn’t give him a right to be violent with you.”

“It should have been an easy in and out procedure,” he said. 

“But it wasn’t. Something was wrong and it’s not your fault.”

“It’s my job to save them, no matter what shape they come into that room.”

“What happened, today what happened,” you said.

“He came in for gallbladder removal. He had a heart attack. There was an unknown hole in his heart, a murmur. The anesthesia fucked him up and he had a reaction. It was too much for his body.”

“He had a hole in his heart no one knew existed. That kid probably was past saving.”

“The entire surgical staff said the girl with the destroyed digestive track was past saving but we got her-“

“Dean. What do you mean we.”

He shrugged and put his shirt on, your hand catching his arm.

“What did you mean.”

“I was working in the ER the day you came in. The whole ER heard you come in. God, I have nightmares about that sound,” he said.

“I don’t understand. I don’t...I didn’t meet you until the vending machine.”

“I never saw your face but I was in the OR for a bit. All of us were. An intestinal transplant requires a lot of hands,” he said.

“So you hadn’t just heard of me. You held the intestines currently in my body. Did I get that right?”

“Are you seriously pissed at me right now?” he asked, scrunching up his face. “For what!”

“You know I have a hard time trusting people now. It makes me question if you pitied me and that’s why you dropped by my room that day. I don’t want your pity, Dean.”

“I don’t want yours! A kid died. His dad shoved me. Fucking get over it. It’s my job. I got over that shit long before you were around,” he said. 

“Do not yell at me for caring about you.”

“Don’t yell at me for brining up something so insignificant-”

“It’s not insignificant! I literally met you because of this,” you said as you put your hand on your stomach. “I’m alive because of that surgery. It’s a big deal to me. I’m not mad that you were in the surgery. I’m mad that you didn’t tell me because that makes my head not want to trust you.”

“Then don’t. Why don’t you just take your crap and leave,” he said.

“I’m not walking out. You’re having a bad day and-”

“And you’re overreacting to the stupidest shit.”

“I’m sorry that I have trust issues with people now. I’m sorry that my head is trying to be logical-”

“Logical? What the fuck is logical about this?” he asked.

“The last boyfriend I had tried to kill me when I didn’t trust him so I’m fucking sorry for having PTSD!” you shouted. “I was trying to say that my head is saying that but-”

“You know, I don’t really want you to stay over tonight so can you just go home to your parents. Please,” he said.

“I am-”

“Boo hoo, they’re overbearing. Suck it up,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. You left your pajamas behind and grabbed your bag by the door, driving home quickly and slamming the front door shut on your way in.

“First fight?” asked your dad from where he was reading the family room.

“Like you fucking care,” you said. You went upstairs and slammed your door as well, plopping down on the bed and curling up with your pillow. The door creaked open and you felt the bed dip behind you. “I’m sorry. Please go away.”

“Apology accepted but no can do on that second part,” he said. “What happened?”

“My PTSD acted up and I got scared for a second and Dean had a bad day so we took turns yelling at each other until he told me to leave.”

“You love him still?” he asked. You looked over your shoulder and he smiled. “I know you love him. Mom and I can tell. He’s one of the good ones. PTSD isn’t going to just go away like that and with his job, his bad days aren’t going away either. So. You want to put up with nights like this every so often for him?”

“He wouldn’t let me tell him that my head got scared but the rest of me didn’t. I know he would never do a damn thing other than protect me.”

“That’s why they call it a post traumatic stress disorder, honey. After a trauma, you may have a slightly different reaction under stress than you used to,” he said. “Dean understands that.”

“I wish I hadn’t freaked on him.”

“Well I wish I wasn’t a dick,” said Dean. You sat up and turned towards the door, Dean giving you a half smile as he stood there in his pajama bottoms and coat. “Your mom let me in.”

Your dad excused himself and Dean took his spot on the bed, placing his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said as you felt the words leave your lips. “Y/N, you have every right to get paranoid when you think I’m not telling you something. I understand, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t like that you felt you couldn’t trust me and it was fuel on the fire.”

“I was going to tell you that my head might have freaked but how I feel about you didn’t. My head went danger and my heart was busy telling it that it was being a dumbass when we started fighting,” you said.

“How do I help you trust me?” he asked.

“Be honest...and call me out when I overreact. I know you don’t pity me, Dean. It’s like my body. It’s one of those things that’s gonna take me time to recover from.”

“I don’t mind waiting with you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. It was wrong and I took out a bad day on you. I’m happy you care about me and get concerned. But I used to hate myself whenever I lost a patient. Absolutely hate myself. I’m still learning that I can’t do that anymore and I just ask that you’re patient with me when that happens.”

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand into your lap. He smiled and gave you a nod, glancing down. “Can I see your bruises?”

“I’m okay,” he said.

“Please?”

He sighed and took off his coat, shrugging out of his shirt and your eyes went to his ribs again.

“Here,” you said, getting out of bed. You went over to your desk and dug through the bin on top, pulling out a extra long bandage. “They broke a few ribs to do my surgery. I wore this sometimes. It helped with the pain.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said, raising his arms so you could wrap it around him. He winced a little and you tucked it in, Dean putting his shirt back on. “Wanna come back to my place?”

“Okay,” you said. “Survived our first fight.”

“I’m sure we’ll survive the rest too,” he said. “Let’s head home, sweetheart.”

_____

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[swishswishspiritsword]

Merchant Shang AU 2

The panic didn't really set in until they arrived at his estate–and that was still a weird fact of his life, an estate–and he had Xiao She settle "Empress Su Xiyan" in the guest house. The not-a-maid kinda bodyguard looked at him with obvious disbelief at his address for the young woman, so unnerved by it she slipped enough that her eyes were golden with slitted pupils. Shang Houhua could empathize. He too was freaking out about the sudden occurrence and realizing your boss might be involved with the Big Boss of the world you specifically emigrated away from is distressing.

Although that did mean he could check another point for her being a snake demoness over a crane demoness in his mental chart.

Shang Houhua offered her a sympathetic grimace and awkward shoulder pat.

"Xiao She should go take a break," Shang Houhua said kindly. Or at least in his best attempt. He'd gotten better at socializing since he'd actually managed to curate Actual Human (And Non-Human) Relationships, but he was still a "work in progress" as Luo Ren put it delicately or a "disaster in emotional understanding" according to the ever blunt Steward He.

Shang Houhua was kinda hoping he was somewhere in the middle.

Xiao She had given him a Look and Shang Houhua knew that it meant he would find his very irritable not-a-maid insisting on keeping watch over him personally until this situation was handled.

Or Shang Houhua was dead.

He wasn't actually sure which would come first. And was very carefully not actively thinking about it until his internal screaming could become external in the safety of his heavily warded fluffy bed.

"Yes, Master Shang," Xiao She said with a little more hiss on the words than usual. That may have been a flash of fang. 

Shang Houhua winced. So, his staff may be a bit more upset about the revelations than normal. He hesitated a little unsure if he should point it out considering the general Ignore Everything Rule the mixed species estate ran by.

"...Xiao She may want to compose herself in private unless she has decided to, ah, be more, hm, free with her identity."

That probably wasn't terribly delicate, but Shang Houhua was running on fumes, adrenaline, and specific Plot Related panic he hadn't had to deal with in a solid decade. Shang Houhua nodded again in awkward acknowledgment and Did Not See Xiao She dash up to the roof to avoid corridors or the way the charcoal girl had a thin rat-like tail poking out the bottom of her skirt. Shang Houhua had not seen things for years and went to his room to collapse in peace after one last order for the doctor to be sent to Su Xiyan's room.

-

Shang Houhua hadn't actually meant to turn his estate into some kind of halfway house for more pro-human demons or half-demons. Honestly, owning an estate in the first place had been an accident caused by picking up what could only be described as a side quest. During his early wandering around the great (terrible) world he created, free from his "fate" he'd stumbled into being a rogue cultivator to pay the bills. 

He needed money! Starting up businesses took a lot of it. And connections too! If Logistics Hell taught him anything it was this. So he used what he had to get by.

And honestly he wasn't actually terrible it turned out? He would never be a War God but he did pay attention to the basics, was a resourceful (read cheating) man,and had wanted to avoid being brutally murdered by what passed as a houseplant on some peaks. Besides as Author God he did know more than the average Sect Dropout.

Most people didn't really need big things either. He did minor things to get by. He made talismans to help ward off wandering monsters from farmers livestock and fields. He performed purifying rituals on a town's toddlers to help insure they were protected even after death. He helped fetch some plants to heal someone or an item to break a curse. It had felt a little like playing through an RPG and it wasn't the most stable but Shang Houhua was revelling in not having a bluescreen of death stalking his every breath of air.

The estate had happened when, a very tired and recently poor, Shang Houhua had met Old Sun. Old Sun was one of those eccentric independently wealthy men who never married and liked to collect weird shit. Among that weird shit was something cursed which made the entire estate a horror zone. Old Sun had done everything to stop it. He'd tried to get rid of it only for it to find him. He'd tried to get it blessed at a temple only for it to throw the monks around like dolls until they'd called quits. He'd tried to move away abandoning his home in the city for his estate in bumfuck nowhere. He'd hired cultivators, other rogues, only for them to take the money and split.

He could only dismiss his staff to protect them and set out to beg help from one of the righteous sects with the increasingly starving ghost dogging his steps and weakening him.

Shang Houhua had found the old man collapsed on the road and helped out, noticing the nice clothes he'd been wondering idly about a possible reward, when resentful energy started to waft off him making Shang Houhua choke on his lunch.

Thankfully he'd recognized the item, a minor cursed bangle of a famous courtesan that had been part of a mini quest. After working his way through as many cursed jewelry plotlines as he could he'd eventually remembered this specific bangle and set the spirit to rest, dispersing the resentful energy. 

Old Sun had woken up happy, healthy,and uncursed. He was so grateful he insisted Shang Houhua come spend the night at his home and be rewarded. Shang Houhua was not about to say no and happily accepted. He could, literally, not afford any chance at money.

He just hadn't expected the man to adopt him, shamelessly dragging him into his house.

After a while Shang Houhua accepted because he actually liked sleeping in a bed and he gained his third family. Fourth if you counted his shortly lived martial family. It took some adjustment but Shang Houhua wound up actually liking Old Sun and, even more bewildering, was liked in return. Shang Houhua helped him identify the weird shit he collected, occasionally adding to the collection, and Old Sun feed and clothed him all while cheerfully listening to rants about story ideas.

Shang Houhua had no trouble picking out his favorite, his first real and positive, family member. 

It was on one of his trips to buy ingredients to start up his soap business that had started him down the road of Demonic Social Worker. He'd helped hide one terrified teenager from a mob, sneaking her out of town, and next thing he knows she's turning up at the estate to ask to repay him. Old Sun insisted on offering her a position and kept insisting as others slowly trickled in as the Don't Ask policy of their staff choices spread and they slowly filled the empty house.

Old Sun had been delighted by the noise and people they gathered while he'd been alive. He'd happily bounced the stablemaster's baby with suspicious sharp teeth and pointy ears on his knee and chatted enthusiastically with Steward He about his collection ignoring when the man fell into first person describing the bloody history of some demonic items.

Shang Houhua had simply continued the tradition when he'd suddenly inherited and expanded it with his business, spreading out their household as traders and managers when he could.

He was fairly certain Luo Ren and himself were the only fully human people in the building. 

–

Honestly a future Demon Empress was only the next step up. Or at least that's what he tried to tell his panicking mind. And she wasn't permanent. He would lead her to Tianlang-jun and happily fuck off back to obscurity. 

Definitely. 

A knock interrupted his screaming and Shang Houhua removed the pillow from his face to clear his throat and give permission to enter. 

It was Steward He and the man was looking unruffled as always, at least until Shang Houhua noticed the way his hands were carefully hidden in his robes, his skin seemed unnaturally smooth and more youthful, and his eyes were amber tinted. 

Also upset then.

"Lady Xiyan is demanding an audience," Steward He said mostly neutrally in a way that meant he was far from neutral. "And we've received a request from a group of Huan Hua Palace cultivators to scour the town and our grounds in search of a missing disciple. The town's leaders have instructed them to obey your decision on the matter."

Shang Houhua shoved the pillow back down and Steward He allowed him a few moments to scream.

Part 1 - Part 3

[writer-k-pop]

Prologue - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if you this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: 1.7k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

I watch as the sun set and the hotel's lights begin to illuminate the darkening halls. Scowling, I stare at the second full moon this month, a blue moon. It only reminds me of Hotel Blue Moon and how quickly its owner changed. I scoff at how Man Wol (owner of Hotel Del Luna), was able to leave her cursed position and pass the hotel onto another while I'm still stuck here with no end in sight.

A soft knock at the door irons out my scowl.

"(y/n)." The voice of Yong, the hotel's spirit general manager, seeps through the thick wooden doors.

"Mm, come in." I turn away from the window, leaving the moon behind, and walk to my desk.

Yong walks in with a few folders and heels clicking clearly against the floor.

"How did you sleep?" She asks, coming to stand in front of my desk as I take a seat.

"As fine as one can during a blue moon." I respond, nodding towards the wall of windows.

"Ah, Hotel Blue Moon will have a busy night." Yong comments, "Anyway, these are the names of those who will be leaving us today." She sets a folder down on my desk.

"How many?" I ask without opening the folder and leaning back in my chair, uninterested in those who would leave.

"3." Yong answers with a light tone.

"Is he here yet?" I question. 'He' being the grim reaper assigned to our location, Shin.

"Not yet. He is scheduled to arrive in a couple hours to take the first guest." Yong informs me.

I sigh, "Alright let me know when he arrives. I need a word with him."

Yong nods, "I will let him know."

"What else?" I motion for her to continue, starting to get bored with all the talking.

"There was a new guest who checked in during the day." Yong continues with the news, unafraid of my mood. "They are scheduled to stay only for 2 days."

"Two lives?" I repeat the amount, "That's on the lower side. But okay. Fine. Anything else?"

"Manager Jiwoo asked that you check over this to make sure it looks right." She lays down the next folder on top of the other unopened ones.

"What is it?" I scrunch up my face at it. Jiwoo's family has been working here as our human general manager for ages and I still am unused to dealing with humanly affairs.

"I believe it is the list of decorations for the upcoming holiday." Yong replies.

i nod slowly, "I'll look at it. Anything else? Or can I go back to brooding over the damned blue moon?"

Yong shakes her head, "Shall I have a bottle brought up for you?"

"Better make it two." I stared out the window at the bright, white circle in the sky. But before Yong can step away, I sigh. "When do you think this punishment will be over?"

"If we're speaking honestly," Yong begins and I nod, encouraging her, the closest thing I have to a friend, to continue. "I don't know."

I lean forward and rest my elbows on the desk, my head in my hands. "Over 1500 years stuck here with no end in sight. The Gods went overboard." I whine.

"You did kill 13 souls on their way to their first life and therefore ended their chances of ever reaching the living world." Yong reminds. "I'm sure they thought the punishment was fitting."

I slam my fists down on the desk, sending some of my desk items tumbling to the ground. "That damn demon, Vengrol!"

Even through my outburst, Yong simply stands obediently in front of my desk, hands clasped together. When the air settles, she begins to pick up the fallen items without any words.

"I can't believe I fell for Vengrol's games." I mutter to myself as Yong places the collected pens in their cup, "Because of that I had to wait to fall in love with thirteen first lives and now I'm waiting for all those souls to be reborn during the same lifetime then pass through my doors. Life's a fucked up game of waiting. I hate it." I grunt and scowl.

"If we're looking at the entire plan, all that's left is for them all to be born in the same lifetime." Yong comments, placing my stapler on the desk.

"That could take another 1000 years. It is hard enough for three souls to be born within the same lifetime. But 13? I should just give up on the hope that I'll ever be able to leave." I slump back.

"You never know." Yong simple says, "I should be going but I will make sure someone brings a bottle-"

"Two." I interject.

"Two bottles up for you." Yong corrects herself before taking her leave.

"Send it to my garden." I instruct as she opens the door.

She nods and walks out of my office.

When the door shuts behind her, the stuffy quiet greets me like an old friend. My eyes lazily return to the full moon and I allow myself to wallow in my past for a bit.

I, a young grim reaper, had struck a deal with a demon named Vengrol. Though I hadn't known he was demon at the time. He told me that the Gods had given him a list of 26 names that needed to be ended before reaching the living world. That those souls were mistakes. Vengrol had asked if I would be willing to split the list with him. Being the innocent and young grim reaper I was, I had agreed. Vengrol had said the time table was a week.

I should've seen the signs. The Gods never create a mistake soul. The Gods let every soul live at least once in the living world. One week to kill 13 souls was atrocious. Yet, I missed them all and completed my promised half.

When the week was finished, and all 13 souls had been ended, Vengrol appeared before with a wicked smile on his face. That's when I knew I had messed up. Vengrol simply waved a hand and then disappeared.

I was caught and brought before the Gods who were fuming with anger.

In the end, the deal was 13 incomplete loves for the 13 incomplete souls I had taken. My punishment was to live as the owner of this hotel where I would see to the rest and relaxation of the souls who had finished living their lives. The owner perpetually stuck between the living and spirit worlds.

My punishment would be finished when, and only when, I had fallen in love with 13 first life souls and when I met each love again as they passed through my hotel would my punishment end.

In the beginning, I tried and tried so hard to love and find the thirteen. But every time I pushed forward, I was knocked back 6 feet. After a few years, I stopped trying and waited. And waited. And waited. I spent so long waiting that I wondered if the Gods had ever planned to actually give me my 13 loves.

But alas, after 1000 years, I had finally loved all thirteen. All thirteen souls who were living their first life.

Now, I'd waited bitterly through 500 years of moon cycles for those souls to check into my Waning Crescent Hotel in reverse order that I fell in love. My first love will be my last guest.

And once all thirteen have rested and been sent away, I will be able to leave this wretched prison.

I clench my fist thinking back to the times one of those thirteen would mistakenly show up at my hotel's door with lives still left. Which meant I had to send them over to Man Wol's Hotel Del Luna and that also meant that my ending wouldn't begin.

Grunting in frustration, I rise from my seat. I take a deep breath and wash away my wallowing. Glancing down at my desk, I remember that Jiwoo needed me to review the list. So I pick up the folder and make my way out of my office and towards my private garden.

My heels echo down the empty hall of my floor and my dress flows behind me. Getting into the elevator, I press the button for the main floor and prepare to face the guests milling around the lobby.

The elevator doors ding open, revealing a couple of guests. When they register who I am, they widen their eyes and nervously greet me. Giving them the tiniest nod, I walk past and head for the doorway in a hidden corner.

The closer I get to the tree that binds me here, the angrier I get. Standing at the entrance to my small garden, I stand and simply stare at the tree that sits in the middle. The tree that is a constant reminder of why I’m here and how long I have and will wait.

At the base of the bare tree, thirteen chrysanthemums sit, still fully bloomed even after hundreds and hundreds of years. The white petals stand out like spotlights against the dull tree and one can't help but stare at them, even if I don't want to.

Rolling my eyes, I walk over the small table where two bottles of champagne sit next to a tall glass. I set the folder down on the table and grab one of the bottles. Opening it with ease, I pour myself a glass before taking a large drink straight from the bottle. The bubbles tumble down my throat while the nutty-fruity aromas rest over my senses like a blanket.

Feeling the alcohol finally relaxing my muscles a bit, I sit in one of the two chairs at the table and open up the folder.

Reading over the list, all the items Jiwoo listed seem reasonable for the upcoming holiday. So I take the pen from its holder and sign my name in approval. I set the folder aside and bring the glass to my lips. As I take a sip, I eye the tree but just the single look at it upsets me. So I down the whole glass at once.

"I should stop drinking here." I mutter to myself before pouring another glass.

About halfway through my third glass, my ears perk up to the echo of a pair of approaching footsteps. Annoyed that someone would be interrupting me, I set down my glass with some force.

"What do you want?" I question the intruder without looking back at them.

"It’s Mun Hee." Mun Hee, the front desk receptionist, says, announcing himself.

"What do you want?" I repeat my question, my annoyance growing. I turn to look at him, just standing there. 

Mun Hee stays silent for a couple more seconds, before saying in awe.

"He's here."

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the first guest.

[allie1804-fan]

Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Griefcast Record

Keanu got out of the taxi at Whistledown Studios and headed in. Cariad and the recoding team greeted him and they got set up with teas, biscuits and a box of tissues on the table

“God, it’s just like a therapist’s room!” he joked

“Best to be prepared! They might be for me anyhow” she laughed.

Before we start though, can I just spend a moment being a fangirl and just say how amazing it is for me to meet you. There are so many films of yours I love – and my kids adore Duke Caboom!”

“ahh yes, Canada’s Greatest Stuntman” he boomed - “that was a fun role”

“and so perfectly cast right?”

“Yeah yeah I guess. I’m glad they picked me from the roster of Canadians they had lined up!”

“Ok, so thanks for letting me just gush for a moment! Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“First tell me the story of how we managed to get you as a guest.”

“Ok so right, so errm my friend Kerry is the link. I was filming in Cornwall this past year and uh, after we wrapped I was so charmed by the place that I decided to stay and rent a place for a couple of months down there. Kerry was my landlady and one day I came across her walking along the beach, tears streaming down her face and she was listening to your show which she highly recommended to me. I admit it took a bit of persuading to listen, given the crying thing!, but she told me it was more reassuring and uplifting than upsetting. Anyway, so sorry, this is turning into a shaggy dog tale!, so I did give it a go, really loved it

“Oh thank you”

“So then one day we were discussing an episode about baby loss, something we had in common and had talked about before and she said I should do the show. Now THAT took a lot more thought and persuasion, but she said it would do me good and there would be the angle of the man’s perspective and being someone with a public profile going through loss and you know yada, yada yada so here I am, finally!

“That’s amazing and thank you so much to Kerry for listening to the show and for your persuasive talents in getting this lovely man here today. So Keanu, as you know we always start with this question. Who are we remembering today?”

“Today we’re remembering my daughter Ava who was stillborn 23 years ago this year.”

“Ok so would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened.”

“So, ahh, it was in the spring of 1999. The Matrix had just come out and my life was pretty full on. My girlfriend Jennifer became pregnant around that time. It was unplanned and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super happy about it at first, but she wanted to keep the baby and I said I’d support her, you know, and as time went on I was more excited than worried about becoming a dad.”

“And how was the pregnancy? How far along was Jennifer when Ava died?”

“Everything seemed fine, she, Ava was growing and developing normally. Jen was healthy. Then I was away filming, a god awful project as well! And, Um, ahh, give me a minute” Keanu cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

“I swore I wouldn’t do this” he said gesturing at himself tearing up, his voice cracking slightly “but sometimes, the memories can be, uhhh, very powerful, very vivid”

“Yes you can be taken right back like it just happened can’t you, however long ago - you know I’m 20 plus years out now and still very occasionally I can be catapulted back there. So, everything looked good but you were away, filming - and I’m sure it can’t have been an awful film”

Keanu snorted

“I assure you it was!, yes anyway, Jen went for a last check up at a little over 8 months and uh, there was no heartbeat. Ava had died and so I flew home and she had to, you know, give birth in a maternity unit, hearing all the other babies being born - I mean they have to do it there because you still might need, you know, that expertise and they tried to keep us private but those places they get busy and she had to go through all that with those sounds sometimes breaking through”

“Yes I hear that that is a common experience here in the UK too and one that SANDS, the still birth charity is trying to address. It’s interesting your choice of words: “she went through that”, presumably you were there so didn’t you go through it too?”

“Yeah, yeah - I guess, I just meant that it was worse, more traumatic mentally for her and obviously physically too”

“Sure sure, but awful for both of you nonetheless”

“Indeed, it was” Keanu paused a moment as though something important had just occurred to him “and she was beautiful too you know”

“awwwww” Cariad moaned sympathetically

“she was beautiful, perfect and warm, just silent, still”

Keanu looked up at Cariad, his eyes filled with tears once more and they both just sat for a moment, taking in the pain of his loss. Eventually, Cariad started the conversation again.

“And did you both hold her? Did the hospital staff help you, you know, to say goodbye to her?”

Yeah yeah, we did hold her. They left us be for a good amount of time, they took prints of her hands and feet and a photograph. You know they were supportive in that way, especially as we knew already, you know, that she had died, they were prepared. I don’t think we were, I mean I don’t think you can prepare for that, right? Your brain won’t let you, not really.”

“Yeah yeah, we talk about that a lot on the show, there are people who say it’s better when someone dies of an illness so you know it’s coming whereas with a sudden death you suffer more shock but I still think there’s a degree of shock you experience even when you have some warning.

“Yeah yeah and it’s so stupid, we’re all just so dumb because death is coming man, to us all but we just don’t want to think about it!” He chuckled

“So are you someone who thinks about death a lot?”

“Yeah yeah it’s always there in the back of my mind, spurring me on to do things, make that film, write that script, build that bike!”

“And do you think that’s because of losing Ava?”

“I don’t know, no not really, well maybe a little but that’s come more with getting older I think - I didn’t really have that reaction at the time”

“So what was your reaction, how did you grieve for Ava?”

Another chuckle came from Keanu.

“A more appropriate question might be how didn’t I grieve for her, at the time I mean!”

“Oh?”

“Hee hee you’re like a therapist, leaving the gaps for me to fill!”

“Some of my critics say I interrupt too much and start talking about me so…..”

“We’ll that’s not very nice is it? And also not true!”

“Thanks - Comes with the territory I guess, so please, go on, fill the gap”

“What was the question again?”

“It was about how you did or didn’t grieve for Ava after her birth?”

“Mmmm well we buried her, in the new year, she was born on Christmas Eve, which is uhhh, another tricky thing about it”

“Oh that’s awful, death on high days and holidays just adds another layer right?”

“Yeah yeah. They do - so um after that I went to Georgia to shoot a movie!”

“So you threw yourself into work then?”

“Yup, my trusty friend in times of crisis. In fact I did, let me see, 1, 2, 3, yes 3 movies in the next year and then started training for the Matrix 2 and 3 so I guess the answer is I put my feelings in a tightly locked metaphorical box and didn’t open it for quite some time!”

“And was there intrusion from the press , I guess this is pre the days of the internet being so developed and social media but how was that side of it?”

“Yeah there was some, you know photographers with long lenses at the cemetery”

“God! I can’t imagine”

“Yeah pretty low, right but in a way because of the taboo of stillbirth, people, you know interviewers and stuff, didn’t ask me about it. I mean I would sometimes say “no personal questions” but at other times that hasn’t stopped people.”

“Oh like what?”

“I’m thinking of when River, River Phoenix died, even if I said I wouldn’t answer anything personal they would still ask how I felt, did I miss him. I mean, fuck! Oh sorry I can swear right?”

“Swear away, sure, and god, fuck yeah, that deserved it. I mean obviously that’s a bit of a contradiction coming from me given we’re here and I’m making you talk about private things but”

“But I agreed, that’s the deal here, it’s not the deal to segue from “how was it jumping onto a moving bus to “how do you feel about your best friend dying!”

“Absolutely. So you said you dealt with it, but much later? What about Jennifer, how did she cope?”

“Umm, I don’t know - I mean what’s normal in that situation? She cried, she wailed like a wounded animal. Her mum moved in. I was away and not there to support her like I should have been. We weren’t really a couple either by then. We were going to co-parent but not as a romantic couple you know so it was complicated. To be honest I think a little bit of her died right then - and then she died herself the following April so you know, what you see before you is the last man standing of that family unit that might have been.”

“Woo that’s tough. You’ve really been through the mill as it were.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I AM still standing. I’m lucky.”

“And how did Jennifer die?”

“Car wreck”

“I’m so sorry”

“Thanks, me too”

“So how is that, being the only one left? Some people talk about losing key people as losing their witness.”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. Now it’s just me here to remember Ava, to remember her coming in and out of this world”

Yeah yeah that’s hard. So you said you dealt with it later? How did that come about?”

“Midlife crisis I guess - when I turned 40, I had a bit of a meltdown, you know, wondering about my goals, what I had or hadn’t achieved. I basically “ran away” alone to Paris on my 40th birthday, to escape any awful surprise party! And you know, I quietly fell apart in a vat of wine! When I went home my friend Janey was just like “Keanu, it’s time, time for therapy!”

“Ahhh it’s great isn’t it, big fans of that on the show!”

“Yeah I guess, I mean, ahhh I wasn’t that comfortable taking the lid off but yeah it did me a favour and helped sort my shit out. And a lot of the guilt and pain of losing Ava was gone through belatedly during that process”

“And why did you feel guilty?”

“Mmmm well I think I started to think I was a curse - my sister had been sick with leukemia, Ava had died, Jen had died, River, others as well and I felt guilty for that stupid film I was working on when it happened! So yeah, there were lots of rocks to lift up, inspect what lay beneath and deal with my emotions.”

“Well you seem like you have your shit sorted now”

“I’m a work in progress!”

“So now you’re, 23 years on, how do you remember Ava and Jen now.”

“Well it’s hard to forget the day for Ava what with it being Christmas Eve. I sometimes visit their graves - after dark if I can to avoid being hounded”

“What has the world come to when a person can’t be left in peace to visit a loved one’s resting place”

“Yeah it’s fucked up right?”

“Precisely.”

“And what else? , well I do have one little thing that my friend Alex who’s an artist, made for me. It was because of something she said she did to remember her lost loved ones. She would get a Christmas ornament that in some way represented the person and hang it on her tree at Christmas. So she made this beautiful little stained glass bird to hang up on my tree or in the house if I don’t have a tree which sometimes happens. So, uh, Ava’s name in Latin would mean bird or bird like so that’s why she did that, yes so I always think of her then and you know I would think about where she would be at a given point like when my friends kids have started school again after summer break I would think “oh Ava would be starting you know kindergarten or elementary school etc.”

“And do your family share in that?”

“Yeah, yeah - especially my mom. She has no grandchildren so yeah she remembers and we’ll have a moment sometimes yeah but it can be lonely, not having the other parent there who shares the same loss.”

“Yes I’m sure it is. Grief can be very lonely sometimes. Well, Keanu I really can’t thank you enough for coming on my little podcast and sharing your experience of baby loss and loss in the public spotlight with us today. Thank you so much for telling us about your beautiful baby girl Ava and her mum Jen.”

“Thanks for having me - I know this might sound weird, but it’s been a pleasure talking with you and remembering them today so, thank you and thanks to Kerry who suggested it. She said it would be good for my soul and she, as always, was right!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

[hobiwonder]

crazy rich asians | 02

Genre: Chaebol!BTS. maid!reader. Smut, fluff. mild angst. 

Pairing: Jin x reader, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x reader. Possible future pairings. 

Warnings for this chapter: language. mention of porn. 

Words: 6.5k+

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t. Now some of the country’s most powerful - and rich - men would do anything to keep you quiet. 

a/n: I'm back finally lol. this chapter moves along the change in feelings of the different characters. main pairing becomes more clear and also just sets the scene to the final few chapters. please let me know what you thought?

(dorks!!!!!)

“Wow.”

“Yeah...” Yoongi lets out a hefty breath he’s been holding since Jimin had mentioned the Will. He’d known his friends were multimillionaires. But never quite the exact aggregated amount of their wealth. Which he now knew was A Lot.

“Wait so let me get this straight, your dad has to marry Amber in order for you to get the money - what if he doesn’t?”

The unexpected question - that Jimin or Jin didn’t even take into consideration - makes Jin smack his younger brother on the back of his head. Light enough that Jimin’s exaggerated flinching was uncalled for.

“He should if Jimin here, can keep his dick in his pants.”

“Please! You slept with her before me, don’t act so self righteous.” Jimin’s scowl only earns him another glare from Seokjin.

“Once. Whereas you will probably make her your booty call.”

“Well I have someone else in mind for that now.” The smirk on his face is mirrored by Yoongi who just shakes his head at his friend’s unadulterated behaviour.

“Good. Call her from now on.” Jin doesn’t seem to catch on to who Jimin is referring to but it does remind him about your departure not too long ago. Hoseok seems to have the same idea when he speaks up before him.

“Speaking of, you assholes better have made sure y/n wasn’t outside at least this time.” His eyes don’t flicker away from his phone as he says so, making no move to get up and check if you had in fact, left.

“Are any of you going to check?” Jin knows the answer but somehow expects a different outcome. Negative.

“Not my house.” Yoongi is leaning back, stretching his arms behind his head to get comfortable.

Shaking his head at his useless friends and even more useless brother - he opts to have a look himself.

“I’ll be back. Meanwhile you peasants think up an idea on how to retrieve that will.”

“Excuse me?” Hoseok’s eyes are wide as if Seokjin told him he was an illegitimate child.

“Hyung you don’t have the inheritance yet. If speaking solely of net worth, mine is more than yours.” His record producer friend’s shit eating grin is well earned but doesn’t mean it doesn’t make Seokjin want to get this plan in motion sooner.

“Yeah yeah..” He’s not paying much attention to their mindless chatter about Jimin’s impromptu vacation.

A few strides later, he’s opening the golden doorknob carefully. That way if you were outside - which would be quite dumb of you he thinks - he’d be able to catch you red handed. Right outside the door, he doesn’t find anyone. He lets out a sigh of relief at the peacefully empty hallway. No servants or butlers and definitely not your cute little frame hovering in places you shouldn’t be.

Just when he’s about to head back inside - he hears the faint noise. Immediately, his feet are going towards it - not quite being able to pinpoint what exactly was that he could hear. Was there someone else lurking nearby? God. Were the staff always this nosey in this house? Then again he would know if he paid much attention even if he saw nothing wrong with not doing so.

Jin strains his neck further, hoping to see whoever it was, without being all too visible as he stood behind the massive vase in the hallway. The next sound he hears though, inevitably someone talking - worries him just slightly. Walking forward until he was nearing another room - there you were, sitting against the wall with your back hunched over. Seokjin couldn’t see your face but your voice was telling enough to let him know of your distressed state. You were sitting on the floor, hand covering your mouth to seemingly hold back a cry.

Who were you talking to? And where was the girl who not even half an hour ago blackmailed his brother and friend?

“I-I’m okay. I just miss you.” Your quaint, undoubtedly overwrought whisper in to the phone makes his chest constrict.

“I’ll let you know. I have to go now Nana. I love you.”

He’d never witnessed someone so rawly feeling emotions that weren’t joy or ecstatic even. The most he was used to was anger from his father. Frustration from his friends. Mostly bliss on his own. But never something like this. You sounded defeated and scared. Were you really crying because of him? He hadn’t anticipated that immensity the empathy would flood into him. He’d never really gotten upset and nor did he believe his brain had the chemicals to make the reaction happen which would allow him to feel said emotions.

He watched you - and heard - let out soft whimpers into your lap. His hands suddenly started to sweat and his feet itch to walk forward but he remained rooted in place. A few moments later, you were getting up, dusting your frumpy uniform before storming off to who knows where with a determined stomp to your steps. A small grin tugging at his lips at your determination. It was more than likely that you were feeling upset and intimidated by the situation you found yourself in. So why did Jin still not call it off when he went back inside the room?

He couldn’t answer that even if he tried. Maybe he was a masochist. Maybe he really did not have any regard for anyone but himself. It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to keep tabs on you.

“You good brother?” Jimin instantly notices his older brother’s more sinister expression.

“What are you looking so happy for?” Jin counteracts before Jimin can try and analyse him any further. He didn’t do well with emotions other than hunger, ecstasy and horny.

“Did you hear? It’s all over the news.” Hoseok is laughing obnoxiously loudly, shoving his wide screen phone in Jin’s face.

A familiar face is greeting him right next to his eyes - if only Hoseok would move the offending phone slightly back, Jesus. Taehyung’s bright blue hair is the front page of the news article. His hand is up a model’s skirt and face plastered on hers. The next set of pictures is him being spotted at a museum with his Posse before they tastefully switch to him at an elite rooftop club. His friend was always the centre of attention and quite obviously thrived on it.

He was very liberated and couldn’t careless of the strict rules his family lived by. Boy would he be in trouble if he comes back before his newest scandal dies down.

“What’s he done now?” Yoongi’s just shaking his head - being the older brother of said boy and rightfully being pissed off. He usually took the heat for his younger brother’s shenanigans.

“Just shoved his face in between a model’s tits for all to see. Nothing new.” The tick in Yoongi’s voice is all too familiar. He always had to do damage control while Taehyung partied the night away. He felt for his friend sometimes, he really did.

“Well, shit. What’s the damage?”

“If i’m lucky, just more shame.” Yoongi’s gaze turns back up to the ceiling, hands stretched behind him to cushion his head.

“Hyung, you really don’t have to keep being the martyr for him. Let him face the music when he gets back. Grow the fuck up.” Hoseok can’t help but feel like a broken record whenever he gives yoongi advice.

No matter how stubborn and wilfully isolated Yoongi remained from the rest of the world, he insisted on protecting his younger brother as much as he could. It would’ve been admirable if it was a rarity. Saving Taehyung’s delinquent ass was like yoongi’s day job at this point.Yoongi just shook his head, not dismissing Hoseok’s advice completely even if it seemed so that way.

“I’m more selfish than you think Hoseokie.” What did he mean by that? That story was for another day.

“Ladies, ladies,” Jimin eyes his older brothers, holding out his hands in a gesture to settle everyone down, “Let’s get back to business. Taehyung whoring around is like being surprised to find out that a lion eats meat.”

“What the fuck kind of analogy is that?” Hoseok is chuckling at Yoongi’s taunting but Jimin barely blinks.

“What is it Jiminie? You’ve had another revelation?” Standing and pacing was not something Jin had ever done before. And he wasn’t about to act like a commoner just because of a little maid who’d caught him off guard.

Taking a seat back at the couch, Jin takes the scotch from Jimin before settling his attention back on to the matter at hand.

“We need to use our newest asset.” Jimin’s devilish smile is nothing short of mischievous.

And Jin was very familiar with that look. He knew that his little brother was intrigued and despite having his eye on the prize, no doubt, he wasn’t thinking all business anymore. There weren’t many things that Jin and Jimin couldn’t have. In fact, he would argue that even if he tried to spend all his money - he wouldn’t be able to. Jin was only 27 and yet he felt like he was on his ninth life - all previous deaths were due to absolute boredom. Women flocked him to without him having to bat an eyelash, had too many servants to count, too many places to sleep and too little to want. Could he get bored of being rich? Not ever. But was he bored with things he could do that came with being rich.

That’s why he was always actively looking to spend his wealth on hobbies and objects that were unattainable. Dangerous. Something that was forbidden to even a man like him who could have anything. And at this very moment - it was you. It was hard to pretend that Jimin wasn’t also well aware of that fact. Hoseok and Yoongi were merely held back because they hadn’t received the ‘go-ahead’ from either himself or Jimin. That they were allowed to play with such a pretty thing like you. They were all good-looking, incredibly so, and extremely wealthy. It was a default that people wanted to be as close to them as possible. Not you. When Jimin had crowded your space, you looked ready to bolt. Like you would be anywhere but in that room with all three of them. And when your body had reacted quite the opposite way, clinging onto Jimin and Hoseok - it was he could do, watch in awe. Jin rarely saw people at war with themselves when it came to physical intimacy with himself or any of his friends.

He’d slept with his fair share of attractive house staff but never encountered someone like you. And that had to be why he was inexplicably attracted to you. Nothing more. The look on Jimin’s face meant he was too and he wanted to play with his meal.

“What do you propose? Shall we take turns trying to maximise our profits from said asset?” Hoseok’s shit-eating grin accompanied with his schoolgirl giggle annoys Jin more than usual but he doesn’t mention it.

Letting the younger ones have some fun, with his fists clenched. He needed another drink.

“Well, I found out from Amber that there have been some staff changes to the Manor and I wonder if our little maid being here has something to do with that. Minhyuk doesn’t work here anymore.”

“And?” Yoongi sounds just as bored as Jin probably looks.

“And, you little shits, he used to work in father’s wing. Know what that means? Hm?” Jimin is looking around at his older brothers like they are supposed to be on the same page.

And while it makes sense that the other two who didn’t live here were lost - it baffles Jin that he didn’t know of the change when he’s been here far longer than Jimin. How does he know so much in so little time? Though it clicks for him just before Jimin opens the pandora’s box.

“It means that y/n works there. She’s the only new hire and none of the other staff have been moved around.”

“And let me guess, you want to seduce her into breaking into father’s office and snoop around?”

Jimin is gasping in mock shock at Jin putting two and two together like the drama queen he is. “Precisely. Knew your brain hadn’t hibernated permanently.”

“Yah, shut up before I expose you and get you cut out of the will entirely.”

“You won’t. You’ve got too much to lose.” Jimin is tilting his head innocently, a juxtaposition between his words and actions.

Jimin was a slithery snake, that much Jin knew. Hell, he was often proud of his younger brother’s extraordinary mind but even Jin knew that he was sharp underneath his soft exterior and disarming smiles. Which meant that he’d made up his mind to include you into their devious plan. But something about the phone call Jin had witnessed before, he felt a little uneasy in the pit of his stomach. The feeling is all too foreign and unfamiliar that he has to place a hand on his abdomen.

“Well boys, just let me know when my turn is. She was too cute for me to pass up on. Now if you excuse me, I have to pick up Taehyung.”

Yoongi’s passive face turns up into a scowl at the mention of his younger brother. “Good. At least he’s bringing back enough of his brain cells to know not to ask me any favours for a while.”

“That’s why he called me, hyung. I’ll drop him off at the Hilton.” Yoongi murmurs a thanks at Hoseok, glad that his friend could sense that Yoongi would rip Taehyung a new one unless he took some time to cool down. He already had to hang up on his father’s personal secretary twice since the news broke out.

“Later sluts.”

“Bye hyung.” Jimin is waving Hoseok goodbye before he finally sits, looking expectantly at Jin.

“So, what do you say? You in for some adventure? It’s been a while since I fucked someone I wasn’t supposed to.”

His pursed lips would have you think he was talking about a physics phenomenon and not sex. “Yeah? And what do you suppose is called when you sleep with your future step-mother?”

His smile is blinding. “The family jewels. I’ve just as much right as father now.”

“Jesus christ.” Yoongi mumbles before putting down his half empty glass. “I’m just glad I won’t have to merge with that obnoxious knob my father keeps insisting I do business with to expand. Tell me what’s needed of me and then wire me the money. No need for details that don’t concern me.”

Stretching like a feline, Yoongi takes his leave. Leaving Jin to marinate a little more in his conflicting feelings toward Jimin's pet project. Well, he did willingly take part but that was before the five foot something intrusion in their plans. There wasn't anything particularly extraordinary about you. So why was Jin finding it so difficult to separate himself from the situation like he usually was able to?

"Jin hyung?"

"Yeah?" Pretending that he wasn't distracted by any thoughts of you, Jin stares back at Jimin's smirking face. He's holding a sheet in his hand, waving it around like he's going to cast a spell.

"Let's figure out the logistics here shall we?"

"You do that on your own brother. I've got some business to attend to." The clink of his heavy scotch glass is definite as he sets it down.

Jimin doesn't argue and that in itself is suspicious. Giving Jimin a pat on the back, Jin heads out with a mission to let off some steam at the gym. Just knowing you were somewhere in the Manor put him on edge and he wasn't about to flail like a teenager in front of you should he encounter you again.

"I'll do that. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

___________________________________________________________________________

"Y/n, Please make sure you are supervising the staff as they move through the rooms. I'd like you to personally go through the checklist before my inspection. Mr. Kim will be spending a lot more time in his home office starting the week after next and we cannot afford the Manor to be anything short of impeccable."

Anders was talking just as fast as he was walking, causing you to almost have to jog besides him as he fired off the list of chores. it was odd enough that you still had a job, let alone climbing up the rank and supervising other staff. In Mr. Kim's wing no less. For a split second you thought you were part of some joke and any second you'll be laid off. But Anders had all but looked through you like it was any other day of work.

"And please, take note that due to the eventful nature of Mr. Kim's work, we will be expecting many visitors therefore everything needs to be tidied up before and after Mr. Kim's work hours. you will be rostered on to take care of his wing, including the guest rooms, living room, library and the restrooms. Mr. Kim's office will be out of bounds and I shall take care of that room. understood, dear?"

Anders is looking at you warmly for the first time today and like a true airhead that you'd been acting these days, it takes a few seconds for you to nod at him.

"Yes sir. Will I be working the regular hours or will my shift hours be changed?"

"I presume it will be on a weekly basis for a little while. For this week you will be required to tend to Master Kim's quarters after 5pm and get everything set up for the next day. Of course, with the exception of today."

His smile is kind and lighthearted. You know he isn't this forthcoming to all of the staff. Perhaps your age being the closest to his own children gives you the soft advantage. Nonetheless, you are thankful for the little bit of gentleness, guidance and just a light hand ever since you'd started working here. And maybe Anders has a little bit of hand in you getting this sort of promotion in such a short amount of time.

"Okay. I will get to it right away." Tucking your notebook in your apron, you nod at him.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?" Your heart is thumping too loudly, too fast in your chest. The events of yesterday flooding in your mind.

But Anders didn't seem to display any anger so far.

"I say this for your own safety, dear. Try your absolute best to keep a respectful distance between the people of the house and yourself."

"O-Okay." Spinning right around, you bolt.

There was no way Anders didn’t know something. He had to have known that something incredibly inappropriate happened, right? Did Mr. Kim’s sons complain about you? There was no way they probably didn’t make you seem like a creep. Snooping around their house like paparazzi. Just thinking about the events of yesterday made the blood rush to your face fast enough to make you slightly dizzy. It still felt like a fever dream. Something that was far too.... astounding to have every happened to you. You could count on one hand how many times something memorable happened to you in your short life. And yesterday was equally memorable as well as terrifying. This uncertainty you felt with your place in the Manor was something you didn’t want to feel much longer.

The more you thought about it last night, the more angry you became at yourself. How selfish could you be to put your job in jeopardy? Especially when you have so many people counting on you to keep it for a long while. You had stupidly put yourself in the midst of some money war happening between very powerful people. Now you’d become someone for them to play with or at least that’s what you felt like. Yes the kissing was great, your traitorous body soaked up the physical intimacy like a starved nymphomaniac but at what cost? Tossing and turning, sleeping had been futile.

And maybe your red eyes gave Anders some indication about what had been troubling you. Still, you were adamant on keeping yourself away from their traps. No matter how beautiful and alluring their words were. No matter how beautiful each one of them were. They were unattainable and a lowly worker like you was never going to be someone worth their respect. Head filled with many thoughts, you march towards the crowd of people awaiting your instructions.

You will not think about them. Especially him. Kim Seokjin.

______________________________________________________________

A week goes by much easier and uneventfully than you had expected it to be. And the more days that pass, the more that one encounter feels like a fever dream. Like it happened in the fantasy realm. Something twisted conjured up by your brain after it got tired of your insipid life. You’d managed to speak to your grandma on a regular basis to make sure she wasn’t worried after your out of the ordinary tearful conversation with her. As usual, your mother had not been interested in talking with you and it hurt you just like it always did. Though it was becoming so normal and expected that you suspected your numbness to it soon. You awaited that day.

“Miss. y/n, would you like me to change the glasses from the liquor table? One seems to have broken...”

One of the staffer’s, Jihoon, trails off as he inspects the damage. Your eyebrows furrow at his observation. You left everything in place last night before leaving. No broken glass anywhere. Was someone here after hours? Mr. Kim’s schedule didn’t show any scheduled meetings after 6pm - which was unusual anyway as he finished up by 5pm most days.

“That’s odd. I’m sure this wasn’t broken.” There are a few shards of glass peeking out from the bottom of the liquor cabinet and sure enough, when you bend down, you can see the remains of the glass pushed underneath it.

“Oh boy. Be careful when you clean that up Jihoon. I’ll go get a new set.”

“Maybe one of the masters we’re here.” Jihoon shrugs absentmindedly, proceeding to vacuum all the shards and the mention of the other men in the house makes you jolt like you’re the one vacuuming glass into your bare hands.

“Y-Yeah. I’ll be right back. You’re free to go when you’re done. I’ll do the last sweep before calling Mr. Anders.”

“Okay! See you tomorrow noona!” You say your goodbyes before heading to the storage room. Jihoon had been here overnight so you wanted to let him rest as quickly as possible.

Feet rushing you out quickly, it feels like every breath is being stolen out of your lungs while the memories from last week are rushing into your empty brain. Why couldn’t you get yourself together? It was one incident. Yet, your whole life seemed to revolve around it. It was getting pathetic. You hadn’t seen any of the boys since then and the more days passed, the more it was clear that they played around with the staff on the regular. You weren’t anyone special. The more it made you angry that you let it happen. How dare they treat you like a common groupie? You may be just a household worker but that didn’t mean these rich trust fund babies should treat you like this.

All the comebacks you could have said then were coming to the tip of your tongue now. Especially for the tall, handsome eldest with lips of sin. Lips that didn’t touch yours and annoyed you so much for some reason. If you saw him again, he was going to get an earful!

Your emotions were getting the best of you. So much so that the force with which you were pushing in the key with to unlock the  storage room was rattling the mahogany door rather loudly. Thankfully, before you disturb the peace down in the basement even more, you’ve opened the door. It’s only the second time you’re here as you were not allowed the key before. Seeing as you managed Mr. Kim’s wing, it was given to you by Anders to keep with you at all times.

Locking the storage room again after you’ve grabbed a new case of - extremely expensive - glasses, you make the tread back to the meeting room. The Manor is quiet at this time in the morning. The only activity most likely happening in the kitchen while breakfast is prepared. You were on time for all your tasks regarding Mr. Kim’s wing, a spring in your step as you thought about having a cup of tea with the cooks in the spare time you had. The next task was to get everything ready for tomorrow’s Family dinner that Mr. Kim was hosting. Thankfully you didn’t need to be there. You may have been promoted but you were not allowed to stay for the intimate family gatherings as only the very essential staff stayed. You could understand given the influence of the people present in the home and how anything could be made a spectacle if it were to get out.

“Oh Y/n, glad I caught you.” Anders is walking towards you down the hall.

“Mr. Anders.” He’s smiling as he approaches, eyeing the box in your hands.

“Everything looks good. I have inspected the room. I presume these glasses are for the liquor cabinet?”

“Oh, yes they are. Did Jihoon call you? I was about to do a last sweep before paging you.”

His kind smile greets you as he shakes his head. “No need. Everything looks remarkable. You are doing a wonderful job, dear. Join the others in the kitchen for some tea and muffins. They smell especially good today.”

He’s walking down the hall to Mr. Kim’s office as he reminds you of the treats. It’s such a wonderful morning now that Anders has acknowledged your hard work too. You must really be doing a good job. Without wasting any time, you walk a little too fast to the meeting room to display the glasses. Before you can though, a call for your name stops you in your tracks.

“In a hurry?” The deep, mocking tone of a certain someone you were trying to avoid is all you can hear.

Taking a few steps back until you are facing the doorway where you heard his voice from, you come face to face with an image only your imagination tried to conjure on nights you were so, so tired. The real thing though, was far more picturesque. The eldest Kim, Seokjin, stood there, lean muscle on display while his jeans hung low. Hair wet and skin looking slightly flushed due to the shower you assume he just had, judging from the towel around his neck. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to stop your eyes from memorising each ridge on his abdomen. There was something about seeing him in casual wear when you have only ever witnessed him in slacks and expensive silk shirts.

“Are you done? I get that I'm the most handsome man you’ve ever seen but the staring does get old.” He’s sighing as if he bears a great burden on his shoulders.

"I wasn't- wasn't star-"

"Anyway. Bring me a glass of scotch will you?" He cuts you off before you can actually properly say anything.

Now sitting on the plush couch with his legs spread and an arm slung behind the backrest. Looking like something out of a magazine cover. Ugh! He was so infuriating. He didn't even respect you enough to let you respond to his ludicrous remarks! Nevertheless, you were in no position to be angry. He was your boss after all. And after last week, you weren't about to stir up trouble and get yourself fired.

You must have been zoning out for a little too long because you can feel Seokjin's stare burning a hole through you. His gaze indifferent and apathetic. "Well?"

"Yes... Sir." Your mouth aches from the force with which you clenched your jaw before answering.

Standing a good distance away from him really helped your mental state. You were much more clam and composed. You had space to think. Unlike when you were in that room last week. His proximity made it worse for you to think let alone compose a coherent sentence to stop whatever the men were practically forcing you into. Who even makes a deal with a servant anyway? They could toss you out whenever they want to, that's for sure. So really, they were playing with you and you'd been nervous and scared and made that stupid call back home like the gullible sheep you were. That's what rich people with too much free time on their hands did. Play with innocent people's feelings. Not knowing how much trouble it may cause for them. So, whatever. You weren't going to think about it and let them get the best of you again.

Turning swiftly, you complete your original task of replacing the liquor glasses. Carefully pouring one for Seokjin - despite your dislike for the man - as to not pour too much or too little. He's in the same position when you left, albeit, his body more relaxed into the sofa than before as he flicks through the channels. The noises erupting in the room suddenly, however, make you halt in your tracks like you just witnessed some sort of tragedy. The high pitched moans and whimpers are bouncing off the walls all too clearly. The sounds are so pornographic it has your whole body on fire and your pulse racing. Taking a look at the TV - of course, it actually is porn. And what do you know, that's enough to rattle you once more as you almost see it happening in slow motion.

The glass that was weighty and secure on the tray in your hands; now tumbling to the tiled floor like it was fairy floss dissolving in your hands. The loud shatter compared to the very obtuse and unmoving reaction from Seokjin is too metaphorical for you to not notice. This incident now can pretty much sum up your encounters with him. Seokjin hasn't moved an inch, casually watching porn like it was the weather man. All the while you're glancing frantically at him and then the floor, then back at him and back to the floor where they shattered glass is scattered on the floor.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, sir! I'll clean this u-up." What even was happening. How the hell do you apologise with those noises in the background?!

"Don't interrupt. You've already broken expensive glass, don't sully my enjoyment of the film too." Again, he has yet to even look at you.

"This is hardly a film." The words escape you a little too quickly and a little too loud. And of course, Seokjin would notice now. If only because of your ticked tone and the scoff that’s bound to get you in trouble.

“Any movie that I’m in is worth watching.”

“Excuse me?” What was he talking about?

That’s when all plans of being poised and professional go out the window. Due to one rookie mistake. Taking the bait that he dangled in front of you because you turn around like a fool and look at the large TV screen. The sight is slightly unexpected. You had expected to see porn, of course. But not porn that included Seokjin. Sure enough, it’s hard to deny that it’s really him behind a really attractive blonde, someone you recognised from a lot of hollywood movies, flexing his biceps as he intently stared at the camera. You could feel your body tightening up, your thighs connecting with each other on instinct. You can feel the perspiration build up on your skin, your heart rate a million miles an hour. Seokjin was naked in all his glory, hair still looking as if it had just been styled in that effortless way. Even though the snapping of his hips behind the woman displayed how much his muscles were being exerted. The scene was mesmerising. His smouldering eyes holding yours captive that you forget that he was actually there in the flesh. Currently watching you look at the screen like a pervert.

Seokjin’s chuckle breaks your blatant staring at his naked form in the video that was playing by pausing it. So you had no other choice then to look back at his smirking face. The wheels turning in your head, trying to find a viable excuse to get out of another uncomfortable situation you seem to have pulled yourself into just because you can’t help your reactions. The anger was also starting to creep up your spine, getting dangerously close to the part of your brain that failed to control your impulsivity. All because Kim Seokjin was pushing you to your limits. So instead of making a comment on how you had shamelessly watched a good minute of his sextape with some A-List actress, you clear your throat and look him dead in the eye no matter how hard it was after seeing what you had.

“I will have Jihoon bring you another glass and clean this up right away.” Taking a small bow, you cheer internally that you didn’t stutter.

“I don’t want Jihoon. I want you.” Your breath hitches at the heat in his words. Somehow they didn’t convey the appropriate message considering the context.

“S-Sorry?” Seokjin clears his throat, looking back at the TV before speaking again.

“To clean up this mess.” He waves his hand at the shattered glass again, flicking the TV to some cartoon channel.

“O-Okay.”

“Aw, did I miss all the fun?” The cheery voice from the doorway finally takes Seokjin’s attention away from you to his younger brother.

“If by fun you mean the maid breaking house property then, no. I’m sure she’ll make more mayhem soon enough.”

“If you can kindly wait till i’m out of earshot to discuss me, that will be great!”

It’s like you’ve asked them for 2 million dollars or something because Jimin’s eyebrows have shot so far up his forward you’re worried that his eyes might fall out of their sockets. Seokjin is looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time it seems. Even you hadn’t expected to lose your cool because you’re slapping your hand over your mouth, knowing you have definitely screwed up now if you hadn’t already.

“Oh?” Jimin’s tone is mocking and amused. Showing how unexpected your outburst was.

“It seems that our little maid has a spine after all?” He walks to you like a predator ready to trap his prey and it sends a chill down your spine.

Jimin was attractive.

That much was obvious. Somehow his soft features didn’t translate to his personality, he didn’t seem human in the way he addressed you. His tone was almost vindictive. Like he couldn’t believe that someone of your stature would talk back to him. As much as it didn’t make sense, you looked back at Seokjin out of instinct. As if he could save you from whatever Jimin will inflict on you. Which was ridiculous given that moments ago you were ready to strangle him.

“I-I don’t appreciate being treated like a toy.” Chin up, feigning all the faux confidence you could conjure, you stand your ground.

Jimin’s cackle is like needles in your skin. It makes you hot and cold at the same time. Walking over to you, he’s merely a few inches away. Clearly trying to intimidate you as he’s done before. The scent of his cologne hits your nostrils and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from taking a deep inhale. Perfumes were your weakness. Seeing him up close again is enough to remind you of the last time. But you were more prepared now. No way you were going to let him kiss you again.

He brings up a jewelled hand, twirling the stray strand of hair that was framing your face. “Oh darling…. But you are a toy.”

His smile is so big and endearing - had you not already recognised the evil twinkle in his eyes. How dare he?! Your hands balling into fists, nostrils flaring from the sheer anger that you felt right now. This was one of those moments you would surely regret later on. Because you were about to slap the living daylights out of him.

“Let her do her actual job Jimin-ah. I believe we have things to discuss.”

Seokjin’s command is Jimin’s - and perhaps yours too - saving grace. He’s turning on his heels swiftly walking to where his brother lounged. You have to take a deep breath, snapping yourself out of it before you say something that might get you fired for real.

“Oh, y/n, bring me a glass of champagne too while you’re at it.” Jimin winks at you and you scurry out of the room without even responding.

This family was crazy.

_____________________

Champagne? Seokjin wondered what his brother had done in just a week to warrant a celebration.

“Is this another premature celebration Jimin? You know it ruins all the fun when you end up failing. For you that is. It’s very entertaining for me.”

Jimin is flipping him the finger as he sits down, changing the channels until it lands on something he is vaguely paying attention to.

“That was very rude you little shit. I was watching that.”

“Hyung, they were playing rugrats. You’re 27 now. Watch Naruto or something.”

“Tell me why you’re here before I kick your ass.”

“Wow, being around servants has turned you into a commoner too, huh?” Jimin is clicking his tongue like he's gravely disappointed. Obviously referring to you.

The mention isn’t healthy for Seokjin right now. He’s spent far too much time thinking of last week and the phone call he’d witnessed. Though the majority of that regret was not actually kissing you when he had the chance. Your lips had haunted his dreams too many times. This was an odd activity for his brain and he was now worried if you carried some sort of disease that caused all his brain waves to malfunction and make him think solely about you.

Jimin throws up his hands in defence when Seokjin remains unamused, moving a little closer to talk in a much more hushed tone.

“Okay okay. Hold off on the dick measuring. I’m here to tell you when we’re going to put the ‘plan’ into motion.”

Jin arches a brow in question. So soon?

“The family dinner is tomorrow. Most of the staff will be gone so less witnesses.”

“Is… the girl working the night? I don’t think essential staff includes the cleaners.”

Jimin smiles wide like he always does when he’s up to something. Though to be fair, he is always up to something.

“She isn’t but leave that to me.”

“Wasn’t gonna help.” Seokjin shrugs, feeling slightly ticked at his brother’s suggestion.

What was he up to now and why did Jin feel the need to protect you from Jimin’s devious plans?

[lukneetoonz]

Ghost of You Part IV

——————————————————————————-

Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of medical stuff, cursing, mentions of cheating.

Word Count: 1,845

A/N: Hey everyone, so this is it, the end! I’m a little- I don’t know. I don’t condone cheating in ANY WAY, so writing this I kinda wanted something that made people happy.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

—————————————————————————-

How did it all go wrong? Not even wrong, how did it go from bad to worse? You were breathing, you had a steady heart rate. How is it you can go from somewhat peaceful, to being crowded by hospital staff as they did whatever they were doing, supplies being screamed for, lights going dim, and rushed hands moving about your body. You were supposed to be okay- so why were you suddenly not okay?

Bakugou Katsuki looked into your room, time almost slowing down as his face held no emotion, he swore that even his own heartbeat started slowing down as he looked on. Kirishima tried talking to his ash blonde friend, only to be completely ignored, almost like he wasn’t even there. The flowers that were in bakugou's hand, dropped to the floor, and without another word, he started walking away.

He had gotten a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he thought maybe they’d brighten up the room a bit, maybe even hide the sterile smell. But coming back to this- it made him realise he needed to stop pretending. Even if you lived, you would never take him back. Why would you? He did the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do; break your heart.

*•*

Voices were loud and clear, they were- panicked? No, they sounded rushed. Almost like they needed to do the task at hand or something bad would happen. Everything slowly started coming back to you, and then you realized you were choking? Why were you choking? What was happening? Panicked, you started freaking out, strangled cries coming from you as you finally opened your eyes, only to be met by multiple faces staring down at you.

“Push a sedative into her IV, she’s becoming fully aware” A deep voice called for someone, before a finger was waving in front of your eyes, “Y/N, can you hear me?” You gave a meek nod, coughing as you felt something being pulled from your throat, leaving a sore feeling behind. “Good… good. Can you please follow my finger with just your eyes?” As you hacked up- god knows what, you did as you were asked and followed the gloved finger, making sure not to move your head.

“Lungs sound good, so does her heart.” You were met with relieved smiles, a couple of the people exiting the room as your bed was moved to sit up, a cup of water handed to you and you didn’t hesitate to grab it. Starting to look around, you were met with a very bleak room, and it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you were in the hospital. “Hi, Y/N? I’m Dr Deyoung, can you tell me everything you remember? I can come back if you need?”

Shaking your head, you tried speaking, only to cough and need a drink. After a minute, you opened your mouth and started speaking, your voice raspy and hoarse. “I- there were villains, wanting us to give them the information on pro hero’s. They knew we had it because we are a support agency” Slowly, you started remembering more and more, eyes going wide, you looked up and around, “Katsu- Where's katsu?”

Before you could get a response, kirishima came barging in, a thankful smile spreading across his face. “oh thank god-” Running to your side, kirishima pat your head, happy tears streaming down his face. “Thank you for not dying.” A laugh escaped you, making you slightly cough again, but you brushed it off. As happy as you were to see the red hero, you wanted to see another hero- one with ash blonde hair.

“Is he here?” Kirishima slumped, scratching his neck he avoided your gaze, “h-he was… but when he thought you were crashing he left. He hasn’t left your side though, like at all…” Nodding, you slowly processed what the redhead just told you. “I- can you tell him I’m okay? But… I don’t think he should come back… at least- for now… I need some time to think.” Kiri nodded, quickly ruffling your hair before he walked out, planning on finding his explosive friend.

Bakugou was outside sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, trying his best to get the image of you in that bed removed from his memory. He heard the running footsteps towards him, but he simply ignored them. Katsuki knew it was probably his friend, but he just wanted to be left alone, and he also didn’t want to hear how you were gone forever. Soft pants left kirishima as he sat next to the ash blonde, “She's awak-” something set Bakugou off as he heard the words he’s been waiting to hear, yet for some reason he was pulled down by kirishima.

“Let me finish…. she’s awake, but she said she needs time before she sees you. You owe her that.” That’s right… you weren’t his anymore, he wasn’t entitled the right to see you. Why did he think that when you woke up it would be like a dream and he’d get to hold you again. Katsuki took a few steps back before gulping, forcing himself to look at the ground, “I- I understand… see you later kirishima.” A hoarse whisper left the red eyed hero before walking away.

*•*

When you were released from the hospital, you went home to a small get together filled with your friends and loved ones. Even if you were out, you still had a gloomy feeling around you. You knew that you would have to talk to Bakugou at some point, because honestly you didn’t like how it ended nor did you like not having him in your life.

Bakugou was a mess, once again. His apartment was in the worst state it had ever been, he only drank alcohol, and he stopped taking care of himself. Yet he kept in mind on how you were much better without him in your life. You said you’d talk to him- but after two months, he gave up on the hope that he had. Once again you stopped talking to him, just like that you were out of his life. If it wasn’t for him stalking your social media, he would have thought you never existed…

3 Years Later

Red eyes followed your form that walked down the aisle dressed in white. Bakugou had to tear his eyes away or else he would have cried, he even might have ran up to you and kissed you right there. But he couldn’t, he could never do that to his best friend. The one that was waiting for you to say ‘I do’. Katsuki couldn’t even be upset, because kirishima asked him a million times if it was okay and apologized when the relationship started because you kissed him suddenly.

Even if Bakugou wanted to scream out and say no, tell him to back off, he couldn’t. He refused to be the cause of another heartbreak for you, plus never did the ash blonde think it would have led to this. You walking down the aisle with him standing at the altar, but merely standing behind the actual groom. As you arrived to stand before everyone, kirishima took your hands and kissed your knuckles, a shining smile on his face as you both stared at each other with love.

When the priest started talking, Bakugou toned out every word, the words now mere background noise to the nightmare he was living. “Does anyone have any objections for why these two shall not be married? Speak now or forever hold your peace” shaking out of his thoughts Bakugou looked over Kirishima's shoulder to be met by your eyes, holding an emotion he couldn’t quiet. He may have been a pro hero, one that was constantly thrown into terrifying situations, but this was the scariest thing he has ever done.

“Me. I-I object.” Bakugou never whipped around so fast to see Kaminari Denki holding his hand up. To say that the explosive hero had wide eyes would be an understatement, jaw dropping as he quickly turned his head to look at you with a confused written expression. Kirishima blushed, his face now matching his hair as he looked to the ground, scratching his neck, “I- Y/N…” as he tried to form words, he just couldn’t, Kaminari now stepping to be in front of kiri grabbing his hands. “Please… choose me. I’m begging you Eijiro, you can’t possibly sit here and say that we aren’t worth fighting for.”

Your eyes quickly scanned the two men before you as you started laughing, rubbing your hands over your face as you simply took off your heels and started walking away, “even if you said no, I’m not gonna marry you and see you unhappy Kiri… you deserve to be truly happy.” Even if you didn’t turn around, Bakugou could tell you were starting to cry, because he’s heard that tone of voice before. Kirishima tried forming words but he only looked away ashamed, “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you… I’m so sorry”

Bakugou was in such shock he didn’t know what to do, but before he decided he was already running after you, trying to reach you before it was too late. Bursting through the doors he squinted his eyes from the shining sun, blinking a couple of times to find himself laying on the ground and looking at Kirishima and Kaminari looking down at him with worried faces. “Bakugou? Can you hear me? C'mon bro you can’t not be okay, Y/N needs you.” A shaky voice that belonged to his best friend made Bakugou try and focus better, groaning as he rubbed his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Going to sit up, Kirishima put his hand on bakugou's shoulder, “Take it easy… there was a villain with a powerful nightmare quirk and it was crazy, you wouldn’t respond to anything but passed out after an hour.” Soaking in the new information, he was confused. What the hell was he just living in?

“I need Y/N… where is she?” Kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “Don’t worry, she’s at her job. We texted her already and she said she’ll be on her way soon…” Bakugou nodded slowly, taking a deep breath in, “Good… good.” A frown appeared on the red head's face, “That villain really did a number on you huh?” The meek nod from Katsuki only made Kirishima frown harder, “It’s okay man… it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real….”

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu @xxlushika @lov4kbg @aj-1154 @six-piece-chicken-mcnobody @nekee-lilac02

[bytheangell]

Ahead of Ourselves

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Doctor AU for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Rating: Teen and Up  – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary:   A lot of the hospital staff thinks that Dr. Lightwood is a little heartless... but Magnus discovers he might just be as good at acting a he is at medicine. -------------

Magnus doesn’t bother to hide his displeasure at being paired with Alec Lightwood for today’s surgery. As the son of the owners of the hospital, Alec gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it, and Magnus might hate him a little bit for it. After fighting so hard to get where he is, Magnus can’t help the sting of jealousy to see someone handed everything he ever wanted. Sure, Alec’s good at what he does, but in Magnus’ humble opinion he’s no better than the rest of them.

He’s also an asshole.

Mangus allows himself a moment of indulgent whining with Catarina on one of their lunch breaks over sad excuses for salad from the cafeteria. “Think about it - when was the last time you saw him eat, or sleep, or get upset? I’m telling you - a robot.”

Okay, maybe Magnus is getting ahead of himself since ‘asshole’ gives Alec the illusion of having enough feelings to even be rude - Magnus has a running joke with some of his friends at the hospital that Alec Lightwood is, in fact, an emotionless surgical robot that the Lightwoods created to pa their legacy down to. No matter how many patients he loses Magnus has never, not once, seen the man shed a single tear. He delivers bad news to families without batting a single, perfectly full eyelash.

He’s cold and uncaring and Magnus doesn’t particularly want to know what sort of person can be that way.

Alec’s sister, the resident forensic pathologist, insists that Magnus should try to get to know him better, that he really isn’t all that bad underneath it all. Magnus tries a few times, and he almost manages to get Alec to crack a smile at some shitty pun he made before Alec reminds him that they are working and it isn’t a time for jokes.

So when Magnus sees his name listed on the board under Alec’s, he knows he’s in for a long, boring, silent surgery later that night.

Unfortunately, all the quiet focus in the world isn’t enough to save their patient. Magnus curses, slamming his fist on the table next to him with tears stinging his eyes before the final, frantic beep fades into a flatline.

“Time of death,” Alec announces, voice so frustratingly neutral as he takes off his gloves that Magnus’ tears double in frustration at the sound of it. “11:08 pm.”

Magnus takes one look at the girl on the table and is already starting to run through a million split-second decisions, wondering if there was anything they could’ve done differently to ave her. They knew the odds on this one were bad, but they weren’t 0% - he just wasn’t good enough.

Alec takes one look at him and Magnus can practically feel the judgment despite Alec’s usual stone-faced demeanor. This isn’t the first patient Magnus lost, and it won’t be the last, but each one hits just as hard.

“I’ll talk to the family. You go pull yourself back together before rounds.”

And then he’s gone.

Magnus does, of course, pull himself back together in time for his rounds, with the help of Catarina’s reassurances that he can’t save everyone and nobody expects him to - not the Lightwoods, or the other staff, or even the patients.

When Magnus finally gets a chance to nap for a few minutes it seems as if everyone else has the same idea - after trying all the usual on-call rooms he normally crashes in during his long shifts, Magnus finds an empty cot in one of the farther corners of the hospital, in a wing so barely used he’s honestly surprised it isn’t blocked off by now.

He also finds someone else already sitting in the dark - Magnus might not have even noticed in his current state of exhaustion if they weren’t obviously crying.

“Don’t worry, I can sleep through some crying, pretend I’m not even here,” Magnus says, expecting his attempt at lighthearted comfort to be aimed at some intern who came out of the way to avoid anyone seeing them upset.

“Fuck,” he hears instead, followed by a sniffle and the sound of hands frantically wiping at a face.

He knows that voice, even in the dark.

“...Doctor Lightwood?”

“Just… shit. No one ever comes up here. Sorry,” Alec says, voice shaky with more emotion than Magnus thought him capable of.

Magnus hesitates.

He could follow his own suggestion and pretend Alec isn’t even there. He should. But he can’t, because he heard that tell-tale sign of crying and would feel too guilty just pretending he didn’t.

“Can I turn on the light?” Magnus asks.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Alec mutters.

“...do you, uh, want to talk about it?” Magnus tries.

“If I did would I be hiding out in here?” Alec counters. “I’m fine. I just need a minute then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Mmhmm,” Magnus agrees. He picks an empty cot and tries to close his eyes, but he can’t bring himself to actually fall asleep now. He tosses over once, then twice, before giving up.

“Okay, but you don’t get upset. Or angry. Or happy. So this is weird, and I can’t just let it go,” Magnus says finally.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I do this all the time, so really, it isn't a big deal?” Alec offers.

Magnus frowns. “...that doesn’t make me feel better at all,” he admits. “What do you mean ‘all the time’? You never do this.”

“Yes, I do. I just never let anyone see me do it. Do you think my parents are going to stand for their son walking around crying on a daily basis? Or, like, ever?” Alec huffs out a derisive laugh. “They have a reputation to uphold, which means I have a reputation to uphold. Heaven forbid a Lightwood has anything that can even vaguely be perceived as a flaw.”

Well shit. Magnus wasn’t ready for any of this, and honestly, he isn’t sure what to do with it now that it’s sitting heavy in the room. “You’re allowed to have emotions. You’re not - contrary to rumors I may or may not have started personally - an actual robot.” Magnus winces.

“Tell that to my parents,” he says. “I’m honestly not sure which they’ll be more upset over - losing the patient in the first place, or letting it get to me like this. I shouldn’t have let either happen tonight, let alone both.” Alec gives a rough sniff, and Magnus’ eyes are adjusted enough to the dim light that filters in through the window now that he can see Alec fidgeting with his hands and biting on his lower lip.

Magnus hates how casually Alec talks down on himself, despite the fact that Magnus himself was very sarcastically saying the same things about him not too long ago. Isabelle was right - he just needed to get to know Alec a little better. He hates her for that.

“No one’s perfect. NOt even you, apparently. I’m not going to lie, it’s refreshing to know. But I’m, uh, sorry you feel like you need to be. Guess no familial pressure is the one up-side to not having any family left.” Magnus wonders if maybe opening up a bit himself will encourage Alec to do the same. “If you ever want to talk-”

“Listen, I don’t need you to feel bad for me. Sorry for dumping all that shit on you just now, I don’t know what came over me. Just pretend this never happened, and you can go back to talking shit about me to my sister and everyone else in this hospital, and I can go back to keeping this room for myself.” There’s an edge to Alec’s tone like he just realized everything he’s been saying since he started what seems to be an entirely accidental venting he probably wishes he could take back. Magnus can practically feel him putting a wall up between them.

“Alexander-” Magnus starts, but Alec stands and crosses the room to the door before he can say anything more.

“I should go. Get some rest, Doctor Bane.” And just like Alec closes himself off again, leaving Magnus alone in the dark.

---

The problem is that Magnus can’t just pretend it never happened. He wants to. His life would be a lot easier if he did, probably. But instead, he finds himself watching Alec, really observing him, now that he knows what to look for.

Magnus can tell when Alec is intentionally pushing others away and closing himself off, and it’s almost always right before, and immediately after, surgeries. Magnus always thought that his kind bedside manner was the show he put on for patients but it doesn’t take long to realize that that is more the real Alec than anything else. It’s the cold, calculated version of himself he keeps on in the hallways and around his peers that’s the act.

And god, how tiring that must be for him, Magnus realizes.

Magnus also starts to notice the periods of time Alec’s nowhere to be found, and no one seems particularly inclined to go looking for him if it isn’t an emergency - except Magnus knows exactly where Alec goes now. The next time a surgery goes wrong Magnus slips a note underneath the door telling Alec that everyone is talking about how he did his best, better than anyone else would’ve done under the same circumstances.

The next time Alec loses a patient and needs to inform the family Magnus finds out his favorite hospital-accessible comfort food from Isabelle (which happens to be the greasiest burger Magnus has ever seen) and leaves it on the table in Alec’s usual hideout.

All the while nothing changes between the two of them. Magnus still makes terrible jokes that Alec only rolls his eyes at, before walking off without a single word and ignoring him just as much as - if not even more than - he did before. It’s a good thing Magnus is nothing if not persistent, and hardly deterred by a little silent treatment when he tries to say hi a bit more often in the hallways.

The more Magnus tries to get him to open up again, the more Alec closes off. He even yells at Magnus in the hallway over something so trivial Magnus forgets about it by the end of the day.

Through it all Magnus continues to leave little notes and pick-me-up gifts for Alec (Isabelle, upon realizing what he’s doing, is more than willing to provide him with all the inside information he needs for things like Alec’s favorite color or coffee order. She also tells him Alec’s favorite flower, and while he’s stunned that Alec even has a favorite flower Magnus also has to insist that isn’t what this is at all before poor Izzy gets ahead of herself).

Not that Magnus can really say what it is he’s doing, or why he’s doing it, which proves to be a problem a few weeks later when Alec loses another patient, and Magnus shows up to Alec’s ‘secret room’ only to find the door open and Alec waiting for him inside.

“What are you doing?” Alec demands, arms crossed.

“Bringing you a burger because I know you aren’t going to let yourself eat anything the rest of the night otherwise,” Magnus says simply.

“Why?”

“...because when we don’t eat, we starve. It’s like, human body 101.” Magnus deflects.

“You know what I mean,” Alec says, not letting him get out of it that easily.

“I don’t know… because no one should have to go through the stuff we go through alone the way you do. I know you didn’t want me around-around, so I just wanted to remind you that you weren’t alone.” Magnus shrugs, setting the plate down on the table near the door.

“But I was a dick to you,” Alec points out.

“Yup,” Magnus agrees. “That’s what happens when you bottle all your emotions up and push everyone away.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what Isabelle’s been saying, but-”

“She hasn’t,” Magnus reassures him. “It’s just kind of obvious once you start looking.”

“...and you’ve been looking?” Alec asks, curiously, with one scarred eyebrow arched.

“Not in, like, a creepy way or anything,” Magnus finds himself backtracking under Alec’s accusatory stare.

To his surprise, Alec laughs.

“Sorry. That was mean,” Alec says, and Magnus realizes with a strange mixture of horror and amazement that Alec’s teasing him. “I’m not going to lie, I saw you talking with Izzy a few times and thought she was putting you up to this.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Nope. Just me, all on my own, sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” Magnus confirms.

Alec looks down at the burger again, and then back up at Magnus. “Do you want to stay?”

Magnus, remembering why he came here in the first place, knows there isn’t a chance in hell he’s leaving Alec alone if he actually wants company right now.

“Sure,” Magnus agrees and watches as Alec makes impressive use of the plastic silverware the food comes with to cut the burger in half before offering it to Magnus.

They both sit down at the edge of the cot and eat, first in silence, and then with some semi-casual conversation, as far as two doctors on shift at a hospital can manage ‘casual’ without work-related topics cropping up here and there.

Alec is just starting to relax when his name is paged to one of his patient’s rooms over the intercom system.

Alec’s on his feet and to the door without a second thought, but pauses there to stop and look back at Magnus.

“Before I go,” he says, glancing anxiously at the speaker in the ceiling as if afraid it might cut him off before he finishes whatever he wants to say.

“Yes?” Magnus prompts, drawing Alec’s attention back to him.

“I was wondering if, maybe, I could repay you for the meal sometime?” Alec asks, and while it definitely sounds like he’s asking Magnus out there’s also, infuriatingly, not a single concrete part of that sentence that confirms Magnus’s suspicion.

“You can get me a burger from the cafeteria any time you want,” Magnus agrees.

“No, I- that is-” Alec starts again, and this time his name is repeated over the speakers and he curses again. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. If you want.”

“I’d like that,” Magnus agrees just as easily.

“Really?” Alec says, eyes widening just a little before he recovers quickly. “Right. I’ll see when we both have off and I’ll set something up, then.”

Just as quickly Alec’s gone, disappearing down the hallway.

When Magnus catches a few murmurings during his rounds of how strange everyone finds it that Doctor Lightwood is smiling a suspicious amount all of a sudden he keeps his own smile small and to himself.

And when he shows up to dinner two nights later he makes a mental note to thank Isabelle for getting ahead of herself as he watches the way Alexander’s entire face lights up at the sight of the single peony Magnus brought for him, beaming as he tucks it into his jacket pocket.

Alec has that effect, it seems, as Magnus sits across from him at dinner and does his best to not get too ahead of himself, either… but when Alec starts tossing out ideas for a second date before the first is even over, Magnus realizes he might not be the only one.

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: None

A/N:  Enter Marcus Pike, stage right

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer​ , @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse​ , @the-feckless-wonder​ , @pascalisthepunkest​ , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501​ , @fioccodineveautunnale​  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ , @lilkermit14​ , @tortles   [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1]  [PART 2]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]  [PART 5]

Part 6 – Step Forward, Step Back, Find Your Partner Quick

Helen tried her best to console a distraught Rosemary as Officer Garcia spoke to several of his colleagues in the hallway.  Her screams had startled the director, who was already on edge due to the break-in and if the circumstances had been different, the look of surprise and horror on the officer’s face would have reduced Helen to peals of laughter.  But all the situation did was add worry to her shoulders.

For nearly two hours, the officers questioned Rosemary about the break-in, about the missing piece, and they kept asking if the museum had any enemies. As much as she wanted to say Fred Breyers out of pure spite, Rosemary kept her mouth shut – sure some people weren’t always pleased with some of their program or exhibit topics, but nothing that would result in the theft of an artifact or the physical beating of a staff member.  The two women were exhausted by the time the three cops left the building.  Rosemary laid on the couch in her office, a wet cloth over her eyes as the lingering headache from the attack ramped up under this new stress.

“Rose, are you going to be okay?”  Helen’s voice was soft, but unable to keep the worried tone at bay.

“I honestly don’t know.  That statue was the only thing missing.  I don’t know if I’m upset because I promised Robert we’d care for it or mad as hell that accepting that ugly ass hunk of bronze led to all of this and possibly hurt the museum’s reputation.”  She sighed heavily, the now cool cloth doing little to help her.  She slowly sat up, swinging her legs over the sofa’s edge.

“I wouldn’t worry about our reputation.  I’m already working with Marquetta on a press release to get ahead of the game.  Louis over at the Caller always does right by us, I’ll give him the scoop first and he’ll spin it in our favor.”  Helen leaned back.  “I’ll also call major donors today to inform them of the situation.”

“I’m sorry, Helen.  I never thought this would have happened!”  The younger woman groaned heavily as she tried to stand, but the director held out her hand to keep her from getting up.  The body stilled.

“Did Francois’ report show anything differently than what Robert had given you?”  Before Robert’s health worsened, Rosemary contacted an old friend of hers to appraise the piece as Helen wanted a second opinion for the insurance company.  The in-depth discussion about the findings with Helen was moved back first by Robert’s death and then the attack.  “Are we still looking at the same value?”

“I reread it the day before the attack to prep for the meeting that never obviously happened, and he seems to agree with the assessment Robert gave us. The statue was processed into the collections several months ago and I put in Robert’s information, but never got around to putting in Francois’ report.”

“Well, so long as the original value was imputed into the report, it’ll give us something for the insurance company.”

“Are we going to report it lost?  What if they recover it?”

“Rose, I don’t mean to sound mean, but I doubt these officers are going to find the piece.  Whoever has it is probably long gone by now.”  Helen glanced over at her.  “Unless a miracle happens.”

“Well good thing I believe in manifestation and miracles.”  For the first time in what seemed like a long while, Rosemary smiled as her old humor began to shine through.  The director smiled back, unable to let the infectious comment not affect her.

“We’ll see.”

---***---

Two Weeks Later

“Pike!  Get in here!” Carmichael’s voice carried through the small cluster of offices their department occupied.  “Pike!”

“I’m coming!  Damn, give me a second!”  Pike grumbled as he scurried from his office and across to hers.  She wasn’t a loud person, so the excited shout she gave had everyone around her curious.  As Pike entered the room, he could see his partner standing behind her desk, doing a little hop-dance.  He raised an eyebrow.

“You need to look at this!”  She pointed at the computer, her smile so big it nearly took over her face. He stopped because she was giggling, Carmichael never giggled.  Whatever this was, it had to been good.  Pike came around the desk and bent down to see what she was looking at and when his eyes landed on the screen, his eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.

“This is one of them, isn’t it?”  Carmichael asked, her voice quivering in excitement.  He ran out of the office to the command center for the cold cases, his presence startling his crew.  He looked over at the evidence board and ripped off a picture hanging in the middle before rifling through one of the boxes to find the corresponding file. He ran back to the office.

The picture in his hand was faded with time, that grainy look of age that pictures older pictures were taking on, but despite those flaws, the sculpture in the photo matched the one in the new alert in the NSAF database.  The Cornucopia had always been breathtaking.

And it’s been missing since 1993.

The agents glanced over the dossier, reviewing the piece to try and discover how this priceless Russian artifact made its way to what looks like a small museum in Western Michigan.  Neither had reviewed the original case file closely and both felt their jaws dropping as they read further and further into its history:

A rare example of the early Ukrainian Avant Garde art movement, The Cornucopia was created by Artem Chumak, a well-known artist from Odessa. Commissioned by the then-governor of the country as a gift to Czar Nicolas II in 1907, the piece was designed to showcase the entirety of the Ukraine in a single moment.  Because the country was known for its agriculture, Chumak chose to use the image of the cornucopia as his inspiration.

The piece is made of bronze and inlaid with the following precious gemstones:

               Siberian diamond

               Ural sapphire

               Ural ruby

               Ural jade

               Russian emerald

               Russian opal

               Ukrainian pearl

Upon the fall of the Russian empire in 1917, Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna Romanov took the piece along with several others from the royal art collection when she fled Russia.  She remained owner of the piece until 1920, when she sold it to the Grand Duke of Luxembourg.

In turn, the Grand Duke loaned the piece to the National Museum of History and Art and it remained with the museum until the outbreak of World War II. The ducal family took the piece back, along with several others to protect the collection from the advancement of the Nazis.

Unfortunately, the move did little good and much of the museum’s collection, including the pieces stored in the ducal family home, were taken by the Nazis, with intention of destroying them as part of the Germanization of the annexed country.

The pieces remained missing until 1949, when a team from the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program (a.k.a. the Monument Men), recovered the stolen collections in a cellar in Hamburg and returned them to their respective homes.  The Cornucopia was returned to the museum and was on display until the ducal family attempted to sell the piece in 1965.  The sale failed and the family remained owners until the piece was loaned to the Luxembourg-American Cultural Museum in the U.S. in 1992.

In 1993, the piece was stolen from the museum and reported to the FBI’s Art Theft Squad days later.  The piece has yet to be recovered despite the best attempts of the team.

Pike looked at Carmichael and they grinned at each other.  While it being reported as missing didn’t mean that they had found it, it did mean that this cold case was heating up.

“Do you think we found our key?”  He didn’t want to sound hopeful, but he had to admit he was optimistic that they were much closer to solving this case.  The evidence they had been sifting through meticulously was painting a picture, but like a jigsaw puzzle, they were still missing pieces that brought it all together.

“I think we have.”  Carmichael replied.  They grinned at each other.

“Whose turn is it to go and do the interview?”  

“Mine, but could you do it?  Marty is out of town on business this week and I can’t leave Dinah alone.”  She rarely asked to trade like this, but Pike held up his hands in understanding.  They smiled, grateful they were partnered up, their work relationship had always been a smooth one.

“Sure, what could possibly happen in Michigan?”

They laughed as they started to walk to the command center.

---***---

Rosemary and Banana walked into the house, both exhausted from the day, the museum’s annual fall field trip event a cacophony of noise and excitement. The program had been exactly what Rosemary needed – something that distracted her from everything that had happened over the last month.  Her stomach hurt all day from her laughter as young kids swarmed the museum in their Halloween costumes.

As she hung up her coat, she caught something out of the corner of her eye on the kitchen table.  Walking over, Rosemary immediately recognized Fern’s loopy handwriting.

Hey sweetie, probate hasn’t cleared yet, but I heard word it should within the month.  Not to jinx it, but welcome to Saugatuck – its’ about time!  I’m also including some keys to Robert’s safety deposit boxes for safekeeping.  You can’t open them until the probate has cleared, so don’t get ahead of yourself! Love you, ae-in.  Always.  -F

“Oh, thank god.”  She huffed as she opened the bulky envelope, dumping out various keys and paperwork, including the deed to the house and the store.  She had an underlying fear that something would happen, and Robert’s wishes would have been overturned and she would get nothing.  “Looks like we’re here for the time being, Baba!”

Rosemary read through the papers and picked up her phone to call Fern. For the next hour, the two women chatted about the changes, what she needed to do to register ownership with the state, and more.  After they said their good-byes, Rosemary pulled her jacket on and patted Banana on the head as she left the house.  It was dark now, but she knew the path through the cemetery and trudged up the hill towards Robert’s grave with no problem.

“You know, I’m certain you chose this spot for some reason or another, but I think it’s to punish me for not getting enough exercise.”  She groused at the polished granite, wondering how she made this walk as often as she did, and it still robbed her of her breath. She was out of shape.  

Robert’s cheeky grin beamed from the porcelain cameo embedded into the stone.  She had never seen anything like it, but he had told her it was common among Eastern European communities.  He described how they used this horribly unflattering photo for his aunt Ionna’s cameo and that he vowed he’d choose his own rather than leave it to his relatives to decide.

She sat down on the damp ground and settle in.  She was still visiting the cemetery daily and while she didn’t cry as much as she had in the beginning, her throat always felt painful after she left.  Wrapping the coat around her tightly she sighed.

“You missed our field trip day.  I know you loved volunteering for it and the kids who remembered you from last year asked where you were.”  She smiled. “I told them you were attending as a ghost and that they couldn’t see you.  I think they believed me.

“I don’t know what strings you pulled up on that cloud of yours, but Fern thinks the probate will clear next month.  I’m glad, this whole process has been a pain and thank you for not making me go through it.  I’d give up and just die if Fern weren’t in charge.  My landlord was mad I’m breaking my lease, but I know you’re excited, you always hated that place.”  She sighed as a wave of sadness washed over her.

“I miss you.”  Her voice crackled with tears.  “I miss you so much, Robert!  I hate that you’re gone.  I hate that! I hate this!  And I failed you!  They still haven’t found the statue and I contacted the FBI and I haven’t heard anything, and I don’t know what to do!”

She cried harder, her ribs hurting as if the pain she experienced weeks ago was still fresh.  She gripped her sides as she continued to sob.   She was tired and everything that had happen in the month and a half since Robert died was catching up with her.  Rosemary sat in the cold evening for hours and let her sadness out.  When she finally left, the exhaustion she felt forced her straight to bed when she arrived at the house.  In a bit of mercy, she slept a dreamless sleep for once.

---***---

“Good morning.”  The deep voice caused Marquetta to turn from the display case she was working on.  A tall man with brown hair and a kind smile stood at the front desk.  She watched as Bob ambled over to welcome him.  She couldn’t hear their conversation after that, but she kept a subtle watch on the interaction as the two men talked.  The stranger smiled again and walked past her towards the stairs and she watched up trudge up each step until he was out of sight.

“You aren’t being very subtle.”  Bob’s voice sounded behind her and Marquetta jumped at the noise.  She felt herself grow hot, grateful her dark skin hid the blush rushing across her cheeks.  She turned to look at Bob, who was grinning at her.

“Who was that?”  She tried to keep her voice steady.

“Some FBI agent wanting to talk to Rosemary.”

“FBI?”  Marquette frowned before her eyebrows shot up.  “FBI!  Oh my god! They’re here!”

“Don’t shout.  It’s rude.”

“No, Bob!  Rosemary reported that statue that got stolen to the FBI!  That means they know about it!  They’re here for that!”

“Does that mean they’ll find the men who hurt her?”  He sounded hopeful at the idea.  Even if he thought her manners were lacking, Bob was deeply upset that Rosemary had been hurt the way she had been.  If this young agent can help find her attackers, he was all for it.

“I bet they do if they find the statue.”  The two stopped talking when Rosemary and Banana entered the building. She looked up and felt awkward when she realized they were staring at her.

“Um, is something wrong?”  She sounded unsure of herself and Bob got angry, realizing that these men didn’t just rob the museum of this ugly statue, it robbed Rosemary of her self-assurance.

“Never, Rose.  There is an agent from the FBI in your office.  Marquetta says you contacted them.”  She startled, not believing that her reporting the stolen item would bring them to her front door.  They were just a small history museum in Michigan, not the Detroit Institute of Art or the Smithsonian.  She figured she’d get an email or a call, but never a real agent.

“They’re here?  Really?” Her eyes lit up when Bob nodded. She started to laugh because she didn’t know what else to do.  Marquetta walked over to hug her and the physical contact help to ground her.

“He’s good looking, too.”  Marquetta whispered in her ear.  Rosemary pulled back at the comment. “Like really good looking.  His butt is cute.”

The two women giggled at the comment and hugged again.  Picking up the leash she dropped, the curator and her furry companion went towards the stairs, hope beginning to bubble in her chest. Maybe she hadn’t failed Robert after all, she thought.  When she reached the third floor, she stopped to catch her breath before walking down to her office.

When she stepped into the doorway, she saw him standing there, looking at her walls.  She couldn’t see his face, but everything about his presence radiated kindness – something she hadn’t expected from an FBI agent.  When he turned to look at her as she cleared her throat, his face lit up in a smile and she couldn’t help but smile back.  For the first time in weeks, she felt safe.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike.”  He held out his hand to her.  She took it with her customary firm grip.

“I’m Rosemary Carter.  Welcome to Fort Jamison.”

[too-much-sunshine]

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 2

Summary: After Roman leaves his family reunion mad at Remus, his car breaks down. The huge snow storm forces him into the forest hes always been told to stay away from. Who will he meet? And why are they being so nice? Most importantly, why are his teeth so sharp?

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Relationship: Familial DAM, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings (per chapter): Car trouble, Snow storm, very brief talk of death, anxiety, being cold, vague homophobia, Romans family are dicks, Remus too by accident, cursing, rumors, possible panic attack

Catch up!: Master list, Chapter 1

Word Count: 4547

Read on AO3!

Roman finally lifted his head off the wheel and looked around his car. He made sure to keep a few things in his car that would help him if he ever needed to stay the night in his car. While looking he heard a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Remus called him a worry wart. He shook it off and continued looking around.

After a few minutes of searching for a blanket (he swore was in here somewhere), a loud bang rang out from the front of the car. Roman jumped so high he hit his head on the roof of his car.

“The fuck was that!?” He shouted, higher pitched than he's ever willing to admit. “Come oonnn woorrlld are you really going to make me check my engine now?” He pleaded to any god that would listen.

And almost as if they had heard him, smoke started to cloud from under the hood.

Roman yelped and jumped out of the car. Running to the front hood he placed the backside of his hand to the metal to find it blazing hot.

“How the FUCK does a car start on fire in the middle of a FUCKING SNOW STORM!?” He screamed. And then he screamed again just for the hell of it.

At this point Roman couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was just the melted snow running down his face. His hair was ruined, his suit probably was as well. His shoes were full of snow and it was only starting to snow harder as the moments passed.

Roman huffed another hitching breath as he started to look around. There was no way he could stay in his car tonight. With his luck today it might end with it blowing up in the middle of the night... well more later in the night. Though at this point he considered staying just for the possibility of it actually happening.

Looking around, there was no one anywhere. No houses, no lights, he hasn't even seen a person on this road since he left his old house. On one side of the road was a wide open field where he had pulled off too. The other side was a large, dense forest.

As a kid he was warned to stay away from these woods because many people have gotten lost in them. Remus once dared him to go in, to which Roman said no. Then Remus called him lame and ran away to play somewhere else. There were too many spooky stories for Romans liking. And with Roman overactive imagination he stayed far away from here.

Sure the adults told him that the reason told to stay away was because he could get lost. But Remy once told him that it was really because the forest was magic, and that there were witches, werewolves and vampires in there.

And that story was much more fun so that's what Roman chose to believe as a child.

Now Roman didn't really believe in those stories anymore. It was very much more likely that people just got lost in the forest to never be found again. It is a very big forest and is very thick.

Though at the moment Roman wasn't paying much attention to the forest beside him. The young man was not fit for this kind of weather and it was starting to get to him. He was getting very cold and the wind was not helping. He needed to find help soon. He'd call Remy or Remus but his phone was in his jacket pocket, which he forgot back at the house.

Sucking it up, he realized he would have to walk for a bit to find a house. Maybe they would be nice enough to let him use their phone. He picked the direction he had previously been driving toward, and started to walk. He pulled his arms in close to him and kept a quick pace.

It was very cold. The snow was not letting up and he didn't know how long he would have to be walking. Deciding the best strategy was to try and distract himself, Roman started to think of the creatures that might be in the woods.

‘Maybe,’ Roman thought, ‘There really are werewolves and they are actually really nice. Like what if I stumble upon one and they let me use their phone? Wait...would they even have phones? I don't know their life so maybe. What would I even say to them? Just be like ‘why hello my furry looking friend  I seem to be in quite the pickle. Mayhaps you have a phone I could use?’ … No that stupid… They'd probably eat me before then… That's kinda judgmental huh. Maybe they should just eat me. It's not like if I were to actually meet them I could talk to them. I’d be too nervous like I always am with new people… How am I supposed to get home if I even ask for help? Ugg this is dumb…’

Roman kept thinking of random scenarios that might happen if he were to step into the woods. After walking for what felt like an hour, but could have been anywhere from 20 minutes to 3 hours, Roman was freezing cold and shivering violently. The storm was still really bad, but it seemed that the worst had passed.

It also seemed Romans luck was turning around. Roman had spotted a light coming from deep in the forest. It was the only type of man-made thing he had seen in ages so he had no other choice but to step past the threshold, into the thick forest. Before he stepped in he paused and looked in the woods.

He was so cold, and he knew that if he didn't get help soon he was going to freeze.

‘Well,’ He thought, ‘If I die from this, at least it I finally do something cool…’

And with that he stepped into the forest. It was a hard walk. There was no straight path, which distantly Roman thought was odd.

Finally after walking passed a few more trees he emerged on to a great expanse of flat, white snow. Past the flat area, which he realized was a lawn, was an older victorian style house. Much smaller than the mansion Roman grew up in, but much too big to be lining for one person.

Without thinking much, since he couldn't feel his arms or legs anymore, he quickly hobbled up to the door and gave three, light raps.

Roman stood in front of the door, arms around himself barely staying up right. His hair matted down from the snow melting into his hair. But the temperature must have gone up a bit because the snow was starting to turn into a bit of rain.

Roman vaguely realized that the walk through the woods was a lot harsher then he realized. His bowtie was missing and his shirt was barely tucked in anymore. He was a mess. This would never be acceptable dress to meet someone in. He started to shiver more, but possibly for a different reason.

Roman realized that he was still standing on some random porch, in the literal freezing cold and nobody had answered. After a good five minutes more  wait, Roman knocked again, but this time he mustered up the rest of his strength and knocked louder. He the went back to waiting. The edges of his vision were going fizzy around the edges. He wished they would open the door and at least tell him to leave rather than make him wait.

Finally, after Roman was just about to walk back into the woods, the door creaked slowly open.

~~~

“Roman! Remus! My boys you made it here safe and sound! Come in come in!” She ushered the boys who were previously shuffling in the doorway trying to keep out of starting the softly falling snow. “How have you both been? I’ve haven't heard from you both in a while.” Though the question was posed at them both, her focus was directed at Remus, even helping him out of his coat. Roman took his coat off himself and draped it on the rack next to Remus’.

“Fantastic as always!. Had a patient the other day, she had quadruplets! All natural it was crazy to see how big she was, and how many babies were in there. All of them delivered with no complications. Three boys and one girl!” Remus responded walking next to his mom talking animatedly.

“Oh that's just wonderful sweetie! I bet all of them were cute as buttons! That poor mother though, four babies. That will be a handful! And that poor baby girl, growing up with three brothers! You know-”

Roman tuned out their conversation as they walked past the kitchen and staircase. The ballroom was down the straight hall from the greeting room to the left. It took about 5 minutes to actually walk there though.

This place was too big in Romans opinion. Even as a young boy he thought this place was too big. Too much much space to fill, though Remus never seemed to have trouble filling it all up for the both of them. Roman preferred reading, writing, or drawing compared to Remus’ brand of destructive entertainment.

Occasionally Remus and Roman would come together and put on small plays for their mother, father, and staff if they were around at the time. Their mother was never super interested but their father always thought it was the best show he has ever seen. Always praising them both for their hard work.

Sometimes, when Remus was out making a mess and Roman was sat drawing, his father would come in and sit with him. Sometimes watching him draw or quietly reading. Roman enjoyed the shared silence, which he was told was quite odd for a child.

Often when Roman was feeling upset or scared he would run to his dad and just ask him to read to him. Which he always gladly did. He would hold Roman close and just read from whatever was closest. This was actually how Roman found he loved plays. His dad and him might read together sometimes and trade off lines, trying to see who could make the other laugh first. Roman wasn't typically the winner of this game either, but he found he never would mind

Even years later, long after their dad disappeared without so much as a note, Roman looked back at those memories very fondly. He hasn't changed much since he was young. Not talking unless he had something to share. Most called him quite, but he wasn't always. It just took a reason to get him to speak up, and he often found there wasn't much that could do so.

Soon enough Roman was pulled from his memories as they made it to the ballroom where it seems that they were the last to arrive. Most of the immediate and extended family was here, mingling around in their too fancy outfits. If Roman were to guess he would say there was a single item of apparel here that wasn't at least $100, including jewelry. Roman couldn't say much though since he too was wearing a suit. Though he left the jacket at the door and he chose a bowtie over a regular tie.

Nobody made to look their way, except for a few glances. Most were already in the middle of conversation or were looking for someone else that wasn't him. This made it easy for him to be able to slip right past his mother and brother who were still in animated conversation.

Roman made a look around the room to determine the people and, by association, places to avoid. Making a quick glance around the lavish gold gilded room, Roman saw many familiar faces. In the most left corner near the seating area was his grandmother; Gramma Ann. She was a nice woman if you can get past her severely outdated societal norms. Roman had learned more than once that it's best to not talk to her unless he wanted a lesson on proper edicate and questions about his supposedly straight love life.

(It's not that his family didn't know he wasn't straight (they were quite aware after he was caught in the broom closet with the cook's son when he was 16.) It's more like they were hoping he would “change his mind.” Almost like if they never addressed it, it would just go away and he would be “normal.” Or as close to normal as he can be with the way he is.)

That brings him to who is at the centre of the room. His Uncle Dave was probably the person he wanted to avoid the most. He never was really nice to Roman, nor to Remus. For the longest time Roman assumed he just didn't like kids. But even as he grew Uncle Dave still seemed to hate them. It all came to a head when his brother, Romans dad, left without a trace. He used to live with Romans family during the time when he disappeared. For some reason he blamed Roman for it, something that he never fought back on. How did he know that he wasn't? So Roman just took his yelling. Took his screaming about how Roman is the reason because of all of his problems. How he was just too weird and quiet and terrible, and that's why he left.

Roman quickly averted his eyes to the loud laughter that came from his right. By the looks of it Remus had finally dispelled his conversation with their mother and found Remy. He looked the same as he always has; wearing those dark sunglasses inside, and dressed in all black. He said it was to look cool but Remy had told Remus and him one night (After they had heard Remy being yelled at) that he actually wears dark things because he's sensitive to light. He gets migraines from it. They had been sure to keep the lights down around him after that.

(All three boys were proof that having any sort of illness in the family was very much so not appreciated. It meant that the family was not perfect, which was not an option to most.)

The official gossip session has seemed to have started if the amused cackle from Remus meant anything. Soon enough those two would break away and try and cause as much trouble as they can.

Roman kept scanning the crowd for any problem areas and after spotting a few aunts and cousins to avoid, he seemed to find the perfect corner to remain in for as long as possible. Luckily there were a few chairs there as well and they were empty. The only problem was going to be making it there.

Directly in front of it was a small circle consisting of his grandfather on his mothers side, and anyone trying to please him. This grandfather was the reason these parties were as fancy as they were. He paid for everything including the house, though the suit he was wearing was probably worth more than most of the furniture in it. He was a very wealthy CEO of the steel company that he founded when he was 19. He lavished his daughter, Romans mom, in as much of the money as he could. She was his only daughter after all.

He, too, seemed to hate Roman. But then again he also hated Romans dad so it may just be left over hate from their relationship.

He was never as generous with his money to him and Remus as he was with most of the rest of the family. Roman didn't mind much. He has everything he needs, even if his job makes him a bit tight on money sometimes.

A job his grandfather very much so did not like one bit. To be honest it seemed like Roman was the only one who liked his job. Even Remus seemed a bit apprehensive when Roman had brought it up. But it was one of the only things Roman never budged on.

Roman was a writer, stagehand, and sometimes director at a pretty large community theatre in the area. It paid well, but not consistently since it was only a job during shows. Of which there was 4-5 a year. He loved his job, but none of his family seemed to share that mentality.

Roman hoped that if he just kept his head down his grandfather just won't recognize him. Just walk right past him and he will never know. He wouldn't see Roman and he'd be able to stay the rest of this night in the corner. Roman dropped his gaze and started walking at a quick pace. It was a good plan, if one of his aunts had not already had too much to drink.

On his way over to his sacred corner, someone stumbled right into his side pushing him along with her. Roman knew he was in a bit of trouble as he looked up and saw who he bumped into.

Roman immediately started to apologize.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry grandpa I-”

“Don't call me that you clumsy brat.” He grumbled interrupting Roman.

“Right...Well sorry either way. Didn't see you there! How have you been? Hows the company?” Roman did want to get out of the situation, but he was nothing if not polite. Too bad the same can't be said for most of the people here. He knew he should just shut up and leave, but he could feel the familiar numb spread of anxiety spreading through his limbs.

“As if you really care. But if you must know, well. Stocks are going down a bit because of those damn foreign factories. If it was up to me, we would take them all out by any means necessary. This is the best country anyway. Not like the world would be missing much.” He declared to the crowd who all laughed and agreed. All except Roman who slowly stepped back from the group. His grandpa seemed to have hit a stride and kept up with his racist speech as Roman continued to back up.

Once he was far enough away he turned and hightailed it to his empty corner, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘Finally,’ Roman thought to himself. ‘Now I can be alone.’

“Hey Roman!” A voice all but yelled into his ear.

Roman would never admit how he jumped about a foot in the air and he spun quickly around. He fully turned to see Remus almost on the floor laughing next to Remy who was at least trying to pretend he wasn't laughing.

“Oh ha ha Remus good job you got me?” Roman deadpaned.

“Oh come on that was so good! You always jump so high when you get scared!” Remus laughed some more wiping a tear from his eye.

“Are you done yet?” Roman said hotly.

“Come on babes let him laugh it up for a while. He's gonna need it after losing so bad to me for another year. What has it been now? Like a 7 year streak?” Remy sarcastically replied.

“Uh, bitch, I don't think so! This year I came prepared!”

“Rems you say that every year.”

“Maybe so but I mean it this year! Watch!” Remus ran off into the crowd laughing. He made a direct beeline for their mother leaving Remy and Roman in the corner together.

“...so...Do you think he actually has a chance this year?” Roman asked Remy, finally sitting in one of the two chairs in the corner.

“Babe, I don't think he even has a good rumor. He's just jelly from all the wins I’ve got.” Remy sighed and sat in the other chair next to Roman.

“I don't know he seemed to think he had a really good one this year.”

“Honey, he thinks he has a good one every year. Last year had to be the worst though. At this point I don’t see why anyone would listen to him, let alone believe a word he says.”

“Well as long as hes having fun here.”

“Well babe you could get in on this too if you want.” Remy lifted his sunglasses a bit to look over Roman.

“Know full well Remington that I can't talk to people let alone tell a convincing lie.”

“Yea yea we've been over it. Social Anxiety is a bitch huh… Well If you need anything you can at least talk to me. I get the struggle in this family.” Remy looked pointedly into Romans eyes.

“Aww does Remy liikkee mmeeeee???” Roman didn't much like the change in tone of the conversion, so he tried to change it back to the light heartedness as it was before.

“Bitch? I would never.” Remy smirked and replaced his sunglasses.

“Yea yea. You know-” Roman started, before a shrill voice cut him off.

“ROMAN ADRIAN JULIUS PRINCE!” A voice pierced through the crowd.

Roman immediately stood up at attention as the crowd parted revealing his mother storming past everyone straight to him. Roman didn't know what he had done wrong this time. But he did know he was kinda upset he didn't even make it halfway through the night yet. Remy stood up, and stood slightly behind him.

“Babes, what did you do?” He whispered.

“I have to clue.” He whispered back, just as his mother stopped right in front of him.

To Romans surprise she did yell at him or push him back right away. She just stood there searching his face. After a tense moment, she seemed to find what she was apparently looking for in his anxious expression, as she broke out into a bright smile. Roman was reeling from such a contrast of emotions going on around him and his own. If her smile wasn't weird enough, she started laughing then wrapped her arms around Roman.

Roman froze. His mother hasn't hugged him since he was very young. He started at the now staring, silent crowd. Slowly he returned the hug, moreso because it was to be expected. Finally she pulled back, but held him at arm's length, hands on his shoulders. Roman found she had tears in her eyes. He's never been more confused in his entire life.

“M-mom what's going on?” He shakily started.

“Roman! Don’t pretend like you don't know! Why didn't you tell you were engaged!” She shouted. The crowd gasped. While Roman took a second to process what she just said.

“I-...I’m not though?” He spoke stuntingly.

“Don't worry honey you don't have to hide it anymore! I know you were worried to tell us because of that one thing that happened...But i'm just glad you finally found what's actually right! You should have brought her with you honey!”

Roman didn't know how to react. She was just so happy with this idea… Should he tell her? Tell her he has absolutely no club what the hell she was talking about? Well...If she wanted him to be engaged...why not let this slide for now…? It's not like she will ever meet anyone he dates anyway. Why not entertain her love for a while.

With his mind made up he finally spoke up.

“W-who told you?”

“So it is true! You didn't deny it! Oh sweetie, I'm so proud of you! Who knew you’d finally do something like this before Remus!”

“Mom.” Roman was starting to feel really small in this very large crowd around him, realizing everyone was still staring. “Who told you this?”

“Why Remus of course! I’m not surprised you told him first, a little disappointed is all but still!”

“Umm. Thank you. You- Umm. Now if you'll excuse me I need to...get a drink!”

“Oh that's perfect! A toast! Everyone grab a drink for my son and his engagement!” She turned to say to everyone.

Roman was starting to breathe a bit faster. He caught his grandfather's eye. He seemed to have done almost a full 180 from how he looked at him before. He had a slight smirk on his face and what seemed to be a bit of proud gleam in his eye. Roman felt a bit sick. Remy disappeared from behind him, probably to get a drink as well.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone along with this idea. Once he found out Remus was involved he knew exactly what was happening. He just wishes he had come up with a less believable lie this year. He should have known once he agreed everyone would be too happy. This was a family of tradition, and to them marrying young was very important. They are probably the most proud of Roman right now then they ever have been or will be.

Someone handed Roman a glass of champagne but he didn't feel it much. His family was cheering for him and they were actually...happy for him. He didn't want this. Not like this. He needed to get out. He needed to run before he started to panic even more. They were happy for him...he didn't want to ruin that by actually being himself.

So he ran.

He ran past his mother. Passed his drunk aunt and uncle who were cheering for him and drinking even more. Right passed his proud looking grandfather. And then right past Remus and Remy who was passing Remus his well earned cash. As Roman passed them he shot Remus a cold glare. Remus went from a gleeful smile holding a new $50 bill, to fear as he watched Roman leave the ballroom.

Once he was out of the room where everyone was watching him, he kept going. He ran past the staircase Remus fell down when he was 7, and he father and him sat on to read Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Past the kitchen where Remus stole the cooks still hot cookies, where Roman sat with his father when he taught him how to use chopsticks. And finally out the door, completely forgetting his jacket.

Once outside the cold shocked him into a bit more lucidity. The storm is almost in full force now. Whipping winds and heavy snow. But Roman didn't care. He kept running all the way to his car, which was easy to find since it was the most beat up thing in the lot. He was surprised it even got him and Remus all the way out to the countryside without breaking down.

Roman jumped in the front seat and quickly reached for the key in his pocket. Once he finally grabbed it, he started the car as quickly. He distantly felt bad for booking it as soon as everyone started looking at him, but he just handled it. He could still barely breathe.

He backed his car up and round. Finally he was driving away from the mansion, while pulling his seatbelt on at the same time. Looking in the rearview mirror he caught Remus busting through the front door into the snow, just in time to see Roman turn the corner and out of sight.

~~~

Next Chapter!

Taglist:

@primaveradoodles

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (i)

Carol (2015) fanfiction 

Summary: An on-and-off job as photographer can only pay so much, so Therese Belivet has taken a job at an elementary school's art program to help pay the bills. One of her last jobs before the school year begins is photographing a preview night of a successful play where she meets the well-known artistic director of the show, Carol Ross. She forgets about their meeting until September rolls around and she starts teaching an inquisitive young six-year old by the name of Rindy.

Characters: Carol x Therese

Word Count: 1,491

Warnings: none yet!

June.

Therese was staring intensely at her laptop, watching as all the little photo icons from her camera began transferring over to her drive. Rain tapped gently against her windows and a can of Coke sat on her desk, half-empty. She had shut all the windows to avoid any light or outdoor distractions as she tended to daydream while looking out in the distance, but this time Therese was determined to get this job finished.

As she waited for the files to continue transferring, the brunette arched her back, yawning as her body creaked and popped from sitting for so long.

It had been three days since her lucky photography gig at the Hudson Theatre. Thinking about it still made her limbs jittery. It was a smaller theatre, but being the oldest theatre in the city and having hosted many successful shows, it was still a landmark. Therese had been overjoyed at the prospect of working inside the theatre for once and seeing all the ins and outs of the show she had been asked to document.

Her phone pinged from where she had haphazardly tossed it on her bed. She stood up and shuffled over, stretching again and giving her legs a shake as she opened a message from Dannie.

preview done. again.

how was it?

tbh a little messier than when u were there, richard kept missing his mark

of course he did.

yeah ross wasn't too pleased with him...

At the mention of the director's name, Therese's stomach lurched a bit, though she couldn't tell why. They had only exchanged a few words during the preview when she'd been there.

...anyways, manager wants to know how ur doing with those photos

workin on em right now actually

tsk that's too bad

why? did she need them now? i thought i had until next week

nah i was just gonna ask if u wanted to get some food and then get plastered w me and phil

Therese snorted and looked back at her laptop, which lit up, indicating all the files had been successfully imported. Temporarily forgetting about her conversation she hurried to glance through them, immediately noticing the faulty pics that she knew she wouldn't be able to use.

Her phone rang and she picked up.

"Is that a no?" Dannie asked from the other end. Therese rolled her eyes.

"Dannie, not responding in 30 seconds does not automatically mean no. But yeah, I don't know if getting drunk right now is such a good idea, I have a lot to go through. Plus, don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"Preview isn't until the afternoon, Belivet. I have all morning to sober up."

Sighing, Therese flicked through a few photos, stilling as she found one of the director whose back was to the camera as she directed Gen, the lead actress, who stood off to the far side of the stage.

"Therese?"

"Hm? Yeah, for sure. I'll come for food, but I'm going home afterwards, I really don't want to be hungover. I've had three cans of Coke already, alcohol and caffeine don't mix well for me."

"Alright, sounds good."

"When do you wanna head out?"

"...now?"

At that, the intercom buzzed at Therese's front door, indicating someone was in front of the apartment building.

"Jesus, Dannie, really?"

"I know you're always hungry, Therese. Plus, getting off the subway from work at your place is so much closer than mine. Forgive me?"

"Ugh fine, give me 20 minutes to get ready though. I don't care if you're stuck in the rain outside. That's what happens when you constantly drag me out for last minute plans."

"Yeah, yeah, Belivet, just hurry your ass up. We're not going anywhere fancy cause God knows I don't get paid enough to afford anything like that."

"Is Richard coming?" Therese asked, brow furrowing in a split second of worry.

"Him? Nah. I actually think he somehow managed to lure Gen into a date tonight. I saw them talking after the show."

"Oof, poor girl."

"Yeah, maybe I should warn her, y'know. Get her out while she still can."

"Terrible idea, McElroy. You know how actresses are with stage hands."

Dannie barked out a laugh. "Shut the fuck up, Belivet. You're one to talk, considering you were ogling the director the entire night."

"I was not."

"Yeah you were. Now get going, or I'm gonna melt in this downpour."

Therese smiled and ended the call, closing her laptop and hurrying to put on some decent clothes before meeting Dannie outside.

-

"C'mon Terry, not even one shot? As a celebratory drink for this job and the next."

"No, Phil," Therese laughed. "I already told Dannie, I have work to do later."

"Alright, suit yourself, but that means I'm gonna drink extra just to make up for you!"

After having grabbed a bite at a cheap Thai restaurant, the McElroy brothers had dragged Therese to their usual bar even though she was still determined to stay sober.

"Do you even know how to deal with kids, Therese? Elementary school can be vicious, y'know," Dannie said, sipping his beer as he ignored Phil stumbling from his seat to order another drink.

"It's only part-time, Dan," Therese shrugged. "Plus, what kid doesn't like art? If one of them throws a temper, I'll just let him go ham on a canvas with some paint, no big deal. It's therapeutic that way."

"How'd you manage to get a job there anyway?"

"Well, their usual art teacher had to take a break for a year 'cause of an injury, so I'm just filling in for the younger grades. They were desperate for more staff for their programs."

"Jeez, is that allowed? You've barely worked with kids until now."

"I dunno. I did a full police check and stuff, besides I'm not hired for the school, just the programs afterwards so I'm not technically a teacher. But it's a small school with a shit ton of younger kids that often need an after-school program. Chances are they won't even need me in the New Year if the other teacher comes back."

"So they just really need extra hands on deck?" Dannie concluded and Therese nodded. Phil came staggering back with a glass of water, grouchy and mumbling something about the bartender not letting him have another.

"Yeah. What about you though? What's happening after Woolf?"

Danni sighed and slumped back in his seat. "Who knows at this point? Ross is taking a break too, from being artistic director-,"

"Wait, really? She's not retiring is she?"

Dannie smirked at Therese but ignored her sudden eagerness in the conversation.

"Nah, just something about needing to be home with her family. She's worked her butt off for the theatre more than anyone, so it makes sense she wants a break for a little while after this show's done. But she'll probably be back in no time, cause she's like that. In the mean time, Gerhard is taking over. I don't know what she has up her sleeve yet, but I'm thinking a typical Christmas show is coming up."

"Any idea what it might be?"

"Nope. Everyone's talking and wanting to do A Christmas Carol but it's been so overdone, and Abby's always doing unexpected things."

"Damn, I wonder what it could be," Therese chewed her lip in thought.

"You sure you're not just upset at the idea of Ross not working there anymore?" Dannie teased. Therese smacked his arm.

"Dannie," she scolded.

"What! Even a blind person could see she's literal eye candy, though she can be a tough boss. I'm not blaming you for liking her, but I am telling you that she's not as sweet as she looks."

"Hmph, whatever. She's probably got someone anyways, if she's taking a break with family."

"I dunno, Belivet, I've never noticed a wedding ring." He winked at her.

"God, you're the worst y'know?" Therese sighed, though her eyes were twinkling. "I never should have come out to you when all you do is tease me about every girl who I just happen to find kinda cute."

Dannie grinned. "That's what you get for being besties with the McElroys, Belivet. Besides, since Phil doesn't like girls, who am I supposed to go to when I get lady problems?"

Therese shook her head and chuckled before checking her watch.

"Damn, it's getting late. Alright boys, I'm going home. I really need to work on those photos. Don't drink yourselves to death, please?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Belivet!"

She grabbed her purse before going to hail a cab as Phil and Dannie waved goodbye, her mind whirling with thoughts of the intriguing blonde director. Therese wondered who she was, besides the 'literal eye candy' that she'd managed to capture on camera. Sighing, Therese shook her from her mind during the brief cab ride home, deciding it was best to leave her daydreaming behind for the rest of the night.

A/N: heh... hi. here's my take on carol/therese because i can’t get enough of them honestly. Let me know what you think; this’ll be a pretty packed series so enjoy :3 

I’ve also been posting my stuff on AO3 if any of you use that as well so you can find this and my other stories there too! <3