#this one might be grasping at threads but i had an experience today where i called 911 because i was worried about the wellbeing of this gu

[inkybinkyboink]

semi-vent/semi-headcanon but making specifically a police officer the narrator (lockstock) was kind of crazy and perfect because like. they have the ego to be narrators. does that even make sense? you could argue that it's because he's in the middle between the rich and the poor because he's part of the law, but that's not true because cops are intrinsically harmful and biased. in a way, lockstock is an unreliable narrator. he's still violent to the poor when he's not narrating. he still kills bobby. from a story-telling point of view, this doesnt matter because to the audience he's more of a narrator than he is a cop, but from the point of view of the poor people, officer lockstock kills one of their own. i feel like there's a joke there that lockstock doesn't actually protect the city because he's too busy narrating, and when he does, he's just as violent as barrel.

[shiraishi--kanade]

i hope ur not still flaring up, but if youre up for it i would like to hear ab the chronic pain mfy headcanons :)

Hi! I was hesitant to answer this because I had a very severe case of internalised ableism today for some reason but don't worry I think I shooed it away. Headcanons under the cut!

By the way did you know that childhood abuse increases the chance of being diagnosed with an autoimmune condition later in life? Now you do. I think about this in the context of chronic pain Mafuyu a lot.

So... It started around Junior High graduation. Nothing major, really. Sometime Mafuyu would overdo it and her hands would cramp, or it would be raining and something was picking on her knees. It's normal, honestly. It's probably what most people experience, no? Mafuyu doesn't really know.

She doesn't keep track of it, so she doesn't really notice when it gets worse, only that it does - she's in pain more often and for longer. She writes it off for soreness after the archery club (she knows it doesn't feel the same, but she doesn't have the time to worry about it), or, on the opposite side, being too sedentary. She flares after the mock exams and fights with her mother, but that's just... She doesn't know, really. She's exhausted, but it would make sense she would be, right? It feels connected to her "true self" somehow in a way Mafuyu can't quite piece together, but it still falls in the static behind her because of everything else.

She doesn't consider she might be sick, not really. It doesn't feel like when she was sick, on Kanade's bed or a long time ago in the childhood, and Mafuyu doesn't really register it might be a different kind if illness; she knows about them on periphery but she's... Not supposed to be. She eats healthy and exercises a lot, so why would she be sick? It's probably just sleep deprivation. Or physical strain. Or something.

Then, when she moves in with Kanade, after she works things out with her dad, it hits. Everything that was keeping her afloat, that constant fight or flight response her body was grasping at like a lifeline, sensing a slightest bit of relief, crumbles and can't hold her up anymore, and suddenly Mafuyu finds herself unable to sleep and feeling like someone is pushing needles between her bones.

She knows she's in pain, but even still, she doesn't really have the idea of what is different and what isn't, her pain not quite bringing new feelings out but pooling on those that already were there. The line between "normal" and "not normal" is thin, and Mafuyu already can barely thread it, so whatever this new thing is, she pushes it aside.

Surprisingly, the first one to notice it isn't Kanade - her line between pain and no pain is blurry as well (I also hc Kanade as disabled, sue me), it's Shizuku. She notices how her friend's shoulders seem more slouched than normal, a little uneven in a subconscious attempt to find a position where it hurts least, and the way her usually steady hands tremble when she aims the arrow.

Mafuyu doesn't open up when Shizuku asks if she's okay, not yet; but it does give her the idea to bring it up to N25.

"Wait, how long have you been like this?"

"I don't know. About a year?"

"What do you mean about a year?! And you didn't even mention it?!"

...Yeah, at this point they know Mafuyu too well to actually be surprised.

They figure it out from there. They're still not quite sure what to do, or what is it, but they take care of Mafuyu when it gets bad enough; Ena shares her gloves and Honami figures out what foods make Mafuyu feel worse or better the next day, and Kanade is careful to not let Mafuyu do any chores in her stead when she's feeling better and dead set on overworking herself out of habit. Mizuki jokes about how ironic it is for the future nurse to get sick herself, then offers to alter Mafuyu's clothes so they feel better against her painful spots, then gets her in touch with Saki-

And Mafuyu is still in pain, and she still has to act like she isn't, to go to archery club and school and pretend like everything is normal, and she still isn't sure how she feels about it, but she knows she much prefers to be in pain right now than how she was at her own house.

[nuwisha-laughs-last]

SHORT FIC TIME!

It’s quick, it’s angsty, ladies and gentlemen it’s a tragedy!

Ascended Astarion x Female Drow Resisted Durge

Calliope wanted to give Astarion the world, but it has gone horribly wrong. Durge confronts Astarion Ascendant several years post-game, no longer able to make excuses for the change that has occurred in him.

CW: Blood, death

We All Fall Down

“Astarion.”

Calliope stood just in the doorway to what could now only be referred to as the ‘throne room’, unwilling to enter completely.

He ignored her. She thought he might, but had hoped he wouldn’t.

He lounged like a cat on the ornate chair situated centrally upon a dais. Two figures were seated at his feet. Calliope tried not to wince when she saw them. Today it was Mira and Solas.

“Dear Master, you have a rather rude guest,” Mira practically purred over his title, it was enough to make Calliope’s stomach turn.

Astarion’s lips curled and he placed a hand on her head, petting her hair as though to reward her.

“My. It is lovely to see that some pets know how to address their beloved properly.”

Pointedly, he did not meet Calliope’s gaze, keeping his eyes on the two spawn before him.

Calliope felt as though she should be angry, could feel the place in her chest where fury used to spark—it was so, terribly empty now.

Decisive, she reached out her hand and pulled at a thread within her. Mere moments later, Nyrulna, trident of the wind goddess, materialized in her grasp. Solas and Mira hissed as its glow glanced off their pale skin. It wouldn’t hurt them, but it couldn’t have been comfortable, Calliope took some small pleasure in that.

Astarion watched them writhe for a moment before he finally waved them away. They practically dashed for the door, squinting and raising their hands against the light.

Astarion basked in it, his clothing and finery glittering under its radiance.

Slowly he stood, a mask of ease over a predatory intent. Calliope shifted her feet, planted them more firmly as he approached.

She could do this. She would do this.

He stepped up to her, loomed over her head, the shadow of him falling over her face. He smiled and there was something so soft in his eye it nearly broke Calliope’s resolve. His fingers gently grasped her chin and tilted her face up into a chaste kiss, nothing at all like the hard, sometimes painful ones he had been demanding lately. Calliope’s eyebrows furrowed. He must know his manipulation was plain as day, yet still he played the game. Why had it taken her so long to see it?

He released her at his leisure, not bothering to change the distance between them, forcing Calliope to crane her head back to look him in the eye. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers,

“Perfect. As always. Now, what brings you to me today, my love?” he murmured.

Calliope took a breath, then another, willing her heart to calm.

“More spawn, Astarion? How many does that make now, ten? Eleven?”

“All willing,” Astarion interrupted, “All practically begging for my favor.”

“You said you wouldn’t. Promised you wouldn’t. Then you promised it would only be a few, just to fulfill your new, ascendent appetites—“

“Are you concerned for your place among them all, darling? You know there is only one I truly desire. I have always wanted to know how my gift would look on drow skin…” he stroked her jaw with his thumb and Calliope suppressed a shiver.

“I was someone’s spawn already. I’m not keen to repeat the experience.”

“It will be different this time. I love you.”

“Sta—“

She cut off as his face changed quickly. He tried to hide it but still she caught the subtle curl of his upper lip. He had not explicitly forbade her from using her old name for him, but his displeasure had been made known over the past year—their time together shorter, his comments more sharp, his affect demanding more and more deference and respect while returning none of it.

The smile returned swiftly, though slightly more strained.

“This conversation will get us nowhere, my dear—

“I’m leaving.”

Astarion stared at her, as though not comprehending the words.

“What.” His tone was a sibilant hiss. Calliope tightened her grip on Nyrulna.

“I can’t stay any longer and watch whatever you’re becoming—“

“And where, pray tell, would you even go? There is nowhere for you.”

“Halsin is waiting for me. He came for me when I called him. I think he knew this would happen. I think he knew the moment I made you what you are—

“SILENCE”

Calliope flinched back as a snarl twisted grotesquely on Astarion’s beautiful face.

“How dare you! You did not make me — My loathsome wretch of a former master did not make me — I am my own. And I can have anything I want.” His red eyes bored into hers, his hands were grasping painfully at her upper arms. He dropped them when he finally noticed, straightening the cuffs of his jacket in an agitated fashion. “Perhaps…perhaps I should have made you a spawn, just to teach you that,” he bit out bitterly. Hurt splintered Calliope’s expression. She saw something half-forgotten tighten Astarion’s eyes for a brief moment, but maybe it was wishful thinking to look for remorse in him.

“You’re right,” she whispered, Astarion couldn’t hide the shock from his face this time. “You’re right,” she said louder, tears starting to cloud her voice, “And I fucking wish you weren’t. You chose this for yourself, more’s the pity. But you couldn’t have done it without me, so I supposed some of the blame at least is mine to shoulder…”

For once, Astarion had nothing to say. He was breathing harder now, his usual composure cracking down the center with each word she spoke. Calliope looked at him with heavy eyes, she could feel the bags under them from countless, sleepless nights. She was surprised to find that she still had the energy to care, to feel some level of regret as her words drove into him like a chisel into stone. No. No not like that at all. This facade was far more fragile than she had first thought. What had appeared to be an iron bulwark, she could now see for the porcelain that it was.

Calliope took a step back and she watched him mark her movement.

“I should go. Halsin is waiting.”

Astarion’s nose wrinkled as the sneer returned to his lips,

“I thought the druid was just a passing fancy.”

Calliope felt a pang in her chest as a slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. How could he hurt her so often and so carelessly and yet she still couldn’t bear to see his pain—wished even now to give him the world?

“I loved you both.”

Astarion was dangerously still.

“Loved?” he whispered, his tongue landing hard on the past tense.

Calliope couldn’t meet his gaze, choosing instead to stare at the floor, tears beading on her lashes.

“Do you remember…what I asked of you if Bhaal ever took me?”

She could hear Astarion shift uncomfortably.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, though the pause was a little too long and a little too telling.

It took all of her remaining strength, but Calliope finally managed to lift her leaden gaze from the ground and look him in the eye once again.

“I’m sorry.” The tears were falling steadily now, she couldn’t have stopped them even if she wanted to. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry it had to end this way—“

“Nothing is ending,” Astarion snarled and a single step took him right up to her, his fist twisting the collar of her tunic up to her chin. She raised Nyrulna reflexively but Astarion chuckled low and horrible,

“You could never harm me my sweet…sweet thing.”

They stood, frozen that way for just a moment before Calliope squeezed her eyes shut and Nyrulna dropped from her hand, clattering to the floor. Astarion grinned over her lazily. His other hand reached up and grasped her jaw, digging into her cheeks meanly. Slowly, inexorably, he twisted her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck to him. His breaths were quick and shallow and his pupils were blown wide. He bent so his lips rested against the shell of her ear,

“Why don’t we see if the druid still wants you when you are just…like…me.”

“Don’t—“

Calliope’s words turned to scream as fangs sank familiarly into her neck, though deeper and more painful than ever before. Swiftly, as though expecting a fight, he pulled mouthfuls of blood from her, seeking to weaken her before she could respond in kind.

Oh, Starling…

Astarion coughed, but refused to stop. He took another drag of blood, another, then gagged, then retched and he flung himself back from her, stumbling to the floor. One hand clutched at his throat, the other his stomach as blood started to bloom under his fingers, the smell of burning flesh a rank stain in the air.

“What—did—you—“ he coughed, fluid snapping and bubbling in his throat.

Calliope fell to her knees beside him, gathering him into an embrace, cradling his head against her chest as his body spasmed. He gazed numbly at the blood oozing from her neck, it glowed faintly.

“B—blessed?”

“By a high priest of Lathander…” Calliope choked through tears, her breaths heaving in her chest now. “I ho-hoped it wouldn’t work. I prayed it wouldn’t. You can w-walk in the sun after all…but I suppose that’s different from swallowing it wh-whole.” Astarion only nodded, as though it were the most obvious thing. Calliope squeezed him tighter,

“Why c-couldn’t you just let me wa-walk away?” she sobbed into his hair. The hand at his throat twitched, then moved, agonizingly slow, to grasp at her shirt like a child in the night. He breathed in, the sound rattling horribly as his lungs filled with his own blood,

“P-please don’t…leave me.”

Calliope held him close, her lips pressed to his soft curls.

“I won’t.”

His body convulsed again, but he let his head lay against her chest, his shoulders sinking, his arms slowly falling into his lap.

He sighed, the hard lines of his face softening for the first time in years. Then he stilled. And Calliope held him, even as his skin blackened and charred from the inside, even as his smoldering body seared her arms and chest, even as his hair burned away, she held him until he crumbled beneath her fingers and was no more than ashes at her feet.

[honeyandsickle]

I've been thinking about Ramshackle Glory songs lately. Right now I have "Bitter Old Man" stuck in my head. There are many threads one could follow with this song. This one sticks out to me currently.

I was born a bitter old man Who got his heart broken in Catalonia, 1936 Things haven't felt right since I know this place wasn't safe for anyone [...]

The narrator is established as keenly aware of their own mortality, and sullenly resigned. Perhaps a better word might be disillusioned, inferred from the heart-break from the Spanish Civil War. Without assured success, why bother? Notice, however, the use of past-tense.

But I swear to God, I'm gonna die Full of naive optimism; A teenager's heartbreaking conviction that Things can be different, oh yeah Things are gonna be real different when we're finished 'round here

Jumping to the present, the narrator establishes a near opposite outlook. They were a bitter old man who has aged into a starry-eyed teenager. Instead of heart-break over a past failure, there is now resolution that they will be successful in the future. A resolution implied to be unrealistic, but in a way that makes it all the more admirable. This change in mind-set arguably is a key source of healing for the narrator.

If "[t]hings haven't felt right" since their heartbreak, then to grow, they must address this ennui. The subversion of the sense of aging creates a sense that narrator needed to 'grow up' in order to discover, seemingly for the first time, their child-like optimism. The narrator is not naive to embrace this innocence. No, the narrator has the experience to plainly know that this optimism will cause further heat-break. And the narrator was never presented as incorrect; indeed, everyone is mortal, the Spanish Civil War did see the fall of the Catalonian communes.

But fuck it! If it's holding you back, then why grasp on to it so tightly?  Presented is a choice between being miserable and right or resolute and perhaps misguided.

[...] I always wanted to die young Now I feel younger every day And I just hope I die younger than I am

Here we can see an immediate connection to the narrators current resolve, and how it steers their life. This optimism has a rejuvenating effect for the narrator.  Where they once wanted to die, they now have a source of life. They have become the master of their own life, and through this their own mortality. Where one would normally begin to tire with age, the narrator will draw strength. The failures of the past used to haunt the narrator, but now they only look forward.

[...] Cause there were years I was ready to die But it's only been recently that I've been willing to live

This further confirms the growth to a revivified person. One thing that stands out, however, is that the narrator has now repeatedly mentioned spans of time spend miserable, including, presumably, their youth. What the narrator does not do, however, is mourn this time. It was not time lost. It was growth necessary to arrive at today. A today the narrator has grown to treasure. A today that leads to a tomorrow. A tomorrow that you are happy to let become today.

And I swear to God, I didn't plan For things to end up this way I had a teenager's conviction that I would be different, oh yeah I was gonna be real different than the person I became

The current reality for the narrator is one that would be completely foreign to their younger self. They gave up before they even arrived, and now here they are hoping to take in as much life as they can. When they were young, they were the bitter old man. Imagine the future a bitter old man envisions. The next milestone might just be death, or so one might presume. But this is not the reality of the situation!

Not only was the narrator not, in actuality, a bitter old man, but that life is the opportunity to create milestones other than death. If you are alive, you can create and pursue; you can live. Instead of thinking to the known failures, pursue, naively if necessary, that tomorrow that is better than today. Learn through this that today is the better tomorrow for the last day you lived through.

But now living's a struggle Except when it isn't, yeah I woke up this morning and I wasn't in prison But I can't promise that I'm far from it I'd still kill a man for a cigarette But with friends like you, who needs homicide?

Of course, just because you hope to live to see another day does not mean that it is easy to want that or easy to achieve that. One should still be aware of what they have achieved, however. What once seemed impossible is now being done, and so what now seems impossible might one day be done. Growth is not done in discrete steps. And it may be precarious. But it is worth pursuing. And when one might falter, others will help.

Perhaps that's naive optimism, but I think the song tells us that that's ok.

[nompumelelomtshali0t4]

Title: Community OT in my hands

Taken by: Fundiswa Mvubu

My big smile, which hides my fears, allows me to overcome them. Welcome to my Journey of Community Block.

On my first day at the primary healthcare site, I felt excitement and nervousness. After spend months on other blocks I was now given the chance to be a community occupational therapist, but now I was about to see what it really meant to help people in a real community. It was a humbling feeling. In school, we learn a lot from books and lectures, but stepping into the real world is different. I discovered that becoming a good occupational therapist isn’t just about following a straight path from learning to doing. It's more like a complex journey full of challenges, growth, and important lessons. Every patient I met and every conversation I had added to my understanding. These real-life experiences helped turn the theories and ideas I learned in school into practical skills. Each interaction was like adding a new thread to a big, colourful tapestry, showing me what it truly means to support and care for others.

I had no expectations and no clear image of what lay ahead. Unlike the structured environment of a hospital, this community block felt like stepping into the unknown. How would I navigate a setting without the familiar protocols? How would I provide effective care without a clear diagnosis? These questions haunted me as I embarked on this journey, far outside my comfort zone. The early days were the hardest. I found myself in an environment where each day brought new discoveries, not just about the community I was serving but about myself. I questioned my ability to stand through the duration of this block, unsure if I could adapt to these new demands. The challenges I faced became catalysts for growth and self-discovery. One of the first hurdles was adapting to the pace and unpredictability of community work. Unlike in a hospital, where follow-up appointments are the norm, a community-based practice meant that seeing a patient today did not guarantee seeing them tomorrow. This reality forced me to hone my skills in delivering fast yet high-quality interventions. Initially, I struggled with the frustration of patients not showing up for follow-up sessions. I would wonder why they missed their appointments, often feeling disheartened. However, once I grasped the concept of assessing and treating all at once, it shifted my perspective. Understanding that each session might be the only opportunity to make a significant impact left me with a profound sense of purpose. Knowing that, even if my patient didn’t come back, I had done my best in that single session was reassuring. It reinforced the importance of being present and giving my all, regardless of the uncertainties.

Community-based OT practice plays a vital role in promoting holistic health and well-being (Van Vuuren et al., 2021). Unlike traditional clinical settings, where the focus is often on treating isolated symptoms, community-based OT considers the broader social, environmental, and economic factors that impact an individual's health. This holistic approach allows us to address not only the physical aspects of health but also the social and emotional needs of our patients. After being introduced to the ecological system theory in my 3rd year, it only made great sense in my 4th year as I got to experience the physical environment of my patients. This theory emphasises the interconnectedness between individuals and their environments, highlighting the importance of considering the broader context in which people live and work. Understanding the various systems that influence an individual's health, from the micro-level of family dynamics to the macro-level of societal norms (Neal et al., 2013).

With my group members, working within the community has allowed us to exercise the PESTLE framework as we could understand the social determinants of health in South Africa. By examining the political, economic, social, technological, legal, and environmental factors that impact health outcomes, we could better identify barriers to health equity and advocate for systemic change (Pestle Analysis, n.d.). By applying theoretical knowledge to real-world settings and embracing a holistic approach to care, I have made a meaningful difference in the lives of individuals and communities. As I continue this journey, I am committed to advocating for health equity, promoting social justice, and empowering individuals to achieve their full potential.

Pestle Analysis. (n.d.). PESTLE Analysis of South Africa: External Factors Affecting Businesses. Retrieved May 20, 2024, from https://pestleanalysis.com/pestle-analysis-of-south-africa/

South Africa is a melting pot of cultures, each with its beliefs, values, and practices. Through my interactions with patients from various backgrounds in the community, I learned to approach each individual with sensitivity and respect for their cultural context. It was important to understand this for building trust and rapport with patients as our community also has foreign individuals; therefore, doing so ensured that interventions were culturally appropriate and effective.

My journey as an Occupational Therapist in a community healthcare setting has been a transformative experience. From the initial excitement and nervousness to the challenges and growth, each day has been filled with valuable lessons. I've learned that being a good therapist goes beyond textbook knowledge; it's about adapting to the unpredictable, embracing holistic approaches, and understanding the cultural context of each individual. Through it all, I've gained a profound sense of purpose and a commitment to promoting health equity and social justice. As I continue on this journey, I'm determined to make a meaningful difference in the lives of individuals and communities, one session at a time. My mission is to advocate for policies and practices that prioritize health equity and social justice. Through community education initiatives, I aim to raise awareness about the critical importance of addressing social determinants of health and fostering inclusive environments for all individuals. To achieve this, I recognize the power of collaborative partnerships. By fostering relationships with community organizations and other stakeholders, we can develop comprehensive and sustainable interventions. Through shared expertise and resources, we can maximize our impact and create lasting change.

Taken by: Nompumelelo Mtshali

My group, we learnt and discovered a lot about Kenville and about ourselves within Kenville.

References

Neal, J. W., & Neal, Z. P. (2013). Nested or networked? Future directions for ecological systems theory. Social development, 22(4), 722-737

PESTLE Analysis of South Africa: External Factors Affecting Businesses. Retrieved May 20, 2024, from https://pestleanalysis.com/pestle-analysis-of-south-africa/

Van Vuuren, J. J., Okyere, C., & Aldersey, H. (2021). The role of Occupational Therapy in Africa: A scoping review. South African Journal of Occupational Therapy, 50(3). https://doi.org/10.17159/2310-3833/2020/vol50no3a2

[thecitysorrowbuilt]

Madeup

The car lurches forward as I let off the clutch a little too fast. Next to me Kara quickly unfolds and then refolds her hands in her lap. I can almost hear her decide not to comment.

Staring out the window, I let myself dissociate into the moment, lazily watching the words from the radio drift. Letting myself is a spin, as I'm powerless to stop the drifting. I steal a glance at Kara, holding back at a wince at the way her dress sleeves tightly grasp her arms, disappearing into the the matching long back gloves.

The man on the radio is ranting about something. Sometime ago the hour of commercial free music had ended, segueing into whatever this was. "I'm not the first to say this, but what kind of example are guys like this setting? Is this who we want out there protecting our children, the heroes they look up to, guys wearing makeup, out there looking like mimes-I'm serious, my generation didn't grow up like this, we had heroes out there risking their lives, risking it all, where people could see! Now that's heroism-honestly, that's heroism-" I roll my tongue tip then lower lip under my teeth as I listen. No matter what right and wrong you believe in, there's still nothing right. "I'm not one of those guys who just says anything to get calls, but seriously, what kind of hero wears makeup, or a mask for that matter? You want me to believe these guys, and gals, don't forget the ladies, can be out there getting shot at with lasers, or, or, I don't even know what else, but they wear makeup? Come on,"

More than you think.

Kara changes the station. I know she did it for me, but I wonder if she knows that I do. Her face as always is impassive. The way she tweaks the radio button has a casual violence to it that makes me almost grit my teeth. Seeing force brought to bear makes me jumpy.

"Today, we remember the 20th anniversary of the passing of Lady Locomotive. Salt Lake City's sweetheart lost her life on this day twenty years ago, protecting the city from assault by the extraterrestrial invader dubbed Ender. Her age and civilian identity remain unknown. A candlelit service will be held downtown."

Clicking as Kara's arm moves, but I'm faster. Her fingertips brush the knob but my light touch on her wrist stops her from turning it. We hold here for a moment, then she reluctantly retracts her hand. I hear her again deciding not to speak.

"It's not like I could forget."

It's always in my head, of course. I still hate hearing it. But Kara doesn't need to know that. I steal a glance at her and know that she already does.

I remember watching it on TV, live, in class. Kids today couldn't imagine it, but back then it was normal for the teacher to put a capefight on the projector. No one had a concept yet for how badly it could go. It was always such a surreal experience, so much secret pride, that dark thread of fear, the unreality of it all.

Remembering brushing my teeth next to her while she put on lipstick, as if you need unnaturally red lips to stop a bank robbery. Watching her catch punches from space monsters like they were nothing, only a few days after having seen her fall to the floor like a ragdoll behind my father's furious shoves.

I wanted to ask her why. Why sell it? Why let him feel like he could hurt her? We all knew there was nothing he could even do to bruise her, yet she let him throw her to the floor. Let him throw plates she was fast enough to catch and put down before they shattered. On some level maybe it hurt her worse than the monster fights. It must have.

I took too long asking. Working up the courage, and like a candle she was gone. Blown out.

I cried then, but so did everyone. When it looked like she might not win, they cut the feed, and we all cried in an unfrozen prayer. She was my mom but she was everyone's hero, and for the first and last time we realized she could really be hurt.

I tighten my hands around the steering wheel and force myself to exhale as I turn into the parking lot.

[aminiatureworld]

Leaden Dreams

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,908

Warnings: Vague depictions of sleep paralysis

Premise: In which the reader experiences sleep paralysis

Author’s Note: First time writing Kazuha! I just finished his story quest today, so I hope that I have an okay grasp on him. Still working on his talking style a bit but I adore his personality.

Also though I experience the part of sleep paralysis where you’re awake but can’t move (can’t recommend the experience) it’s usually during the day so I don’t really experience dreams. As of such if this is inaccurate in any ways I’m very sorry.

Albedo

Albedo knew about sleep paralysis on a theoretically level, knew that it was a phenomenon that caused one’s brain to awaken when the body was still fast asleep. He’d never given the concept much thought, not any more than he might any other bit of science that remained shelved in his mind.

Now that was certainly not the case.

Albedo knew the telltale signs, the small spasms that revealed the battle between your mind and your body. Knowing that you were fighting to move your limbs, open your eyes, relax your jaw, he would always speak first, knowing that you might not immediately respond.

“It’s alright my dear, I’m here. I know it’s frightening, but I promise you’ll be able to move soon. Just focus on one thing, alright? Maybe your eyes this time, since last time you tried moving your tongue. That’s it, just one thing first. It’s always better to start small.”

He wouldn’t move from his sleeping position until you regained control of your body, afraid that a sudden touch might cause you even more distress. Keeping himself carefully pressed into the mattress he didn’t fare lift his head, for fear his face might melt into something frightening. Since he knew he was helpless, his goal became to stop things from getting worse.

The moment you began to move however the alchemist would jump into action. Turning lights on he would pick up the glass of water from his nightstand before gathering you up into his arms, positioning himself so you could listen to his heartbeat as you drank. The first time it had happened he had left the room to get the glass to soon, and the memory of you curled up desperately into the covers still tugged at him.

Albedo would then go through what you had half-dreamed with you, thoroughly debunking all the distortions of your normal life. That shadowed human outside the window was a combination of the balcony and the half opened curtains. The voices were partially his own, partially your brain trying to process your own breathing. The figure hiding behind the door of the hallway was because of the boxed piled along the other side of the wall. The people dancing on the ceiling could be fixed with a repaint. Over and over he would remind you of the fact that you were safe, that your amygdala was simply going into overdrive. Over and over he would thoroughly debunk your nightmares until once more things settled into place, piles of clothing becoming one more fabric, dressers no longer dancing as if possessed.

He would tell you to wake him up if he began falling back to sleep, determined that he should be watching over you to make sure an episode didn’t happen as you were falling back asleep.

In reality though you didn’t mind if he drifted off a little before you. His breathing was a soothing melody, his slow, steady heartbeat a rhythm with which you could anchor yourself. He was staid and sure, and that was something you grasped onto desperately, something you would never stop appreciating.

Soon enough his reasons would soothe your mind, and you’d fall once more asleep.

 Kazuha

The first thing Kazuha always did was pull the blankets over you. If the outside world was threatening you, then he’d simply block it out.

Making a cocoon around the two of you he would begin to tell stories. Fairy tales, things that had happened to him during his travels, anything that you brain might latch onto. The stories were always very short and self-contained, easy to understand, and through your panic addled brain you always seemed to find them.

Sometimes when things were particularly bad he’d softly cradled your hands, careful not to move to quickly or too suddenly in case the sensation caused you to panic even more.

“Our hands fit together so well, don’t you think? I could write a poem about them, or maybe about yours. Maybe you’ll help me with it after this is over? It will be soon dearest, I know it will.”

Sometimes he would sing little songs that he’d picked up. Usually sea shanties, their rhythm helped you, less complex than poetry, more lyrical than the jagged fear that screamed at you.

Kazuha wouldn’t ask you to share immediately. When you finally moved he would first squeeze your hands gently, kissing them before your forehead, asking if it was too hot beneath the blankets, then making sure a light was on if you needed a little fresh air.

He never acknowledged what had happened before you did, but he wouldn’t pretend like it didn’t happen either. Instead he would ask if you wanted to listen to a story or tell one. Whichever you chose he would keep holding your hands, making sure that even when he gave you space there was still something that grounded you.

Sometimes when you cried he would tell a very specific story.

“There once was a warrior, brave of heart. So brave were they that shadows tried to chase them. Someone this noble cannot exist! They cried out. The warrior must be false. We will find their weakness. However no matter how hard they tried this weakness was never found. For the warrior was truly brave in heart and soul.”

Normally you might consider such a story overdone, but in those liminal moments between fear and sleep the story format helped. This was simply a harrowing part of a story, but there would surely be a better end.

 Scaramouche

Scaramouche never thought that he’d ever sleep next to you.

Humans were loud and irritating, and that only became more true when the Harbinger was trying to get a few precious hours of sleep.

However after a particularly bad week he decided that the only solution to your terrible lack of attention was to deal with the matter himself.

He wasn’t necessarily nice about it, grumbling about your poor sleeping habits, saying that this was an awful waste of time. However the moment that panic consumed you, the moment that things started to twist around you, you felt a sudden hand on your arm.

“These idiotic phantoms are nothing. Come on, I know you’re strong enough. How could you ever let something so puny win against you.”

Though you certainly didn’t agree with him about that you had to admit it helped somewhat. Though your initial panic never disappeared, it became easier to climb out of your dreams, to see a light at the end of the endless tunnel of fear.

Every time you jerked once more awake Scaramouche let himself admit some sort of relieved satisfaction.

“You’ve done it again. As you always have. I don’t know why I bother sleeping here when you’re competent enough on your own.”

Nevertheless Scaramouche would always let you embrace him, not commenting on the tears that often accompanied you. Loosely resting his arms on your back he let out exaggerated breaths.

“Will you sleep now?”

It didn’t matter if you said no. Scaramouche would simply mutter something about bad sleep habits, but he would nevertheless stay awake.

He would always fall asleep last, even when his eyes burned slightly and his body called out for rest.

If he was going through all this trouble after all, he might as well see it through to the end.

 Xiao

Xiao saw dreams as extensions of human karma, of human wants and needs and wishes.

If a human dreamt a good wish, it was a revelation of their hearts desire. If they tossed and turned with nightmares it was their fears and shames manifesting. A dream was never just a dream, a shuffle of random events and names and faces. Dreams were alive; dreams had their own wills, all connected to the will of the human they were attached too.

Xiao loathed to see you haunted by your dreams. How could someone so wonderful as your be chased by something so awful? The little that you told your partner caused a distant sort of dread. He could never understand your fear of falling asleep, but he surely felt the dread of whether or not you might be allowed peace.

The threads that surrounded you, that surrounded all humans, always tensed when you were entering an episode. Careful not to leave your side too much Xiao would light a few candles, not too much to be jarring to your eyes, not too little to add to your nightmares. If you could only open your eyes then Xiao would pay even more attention, making sure that the dim lighting didn’t add to your distress, shifting the candles or blowing them out if need be.

Xiao didn’t talk much normally, but he would keep up a steady stream of questions in these moments, even if you couldn’t answer them. Whether you were aware of his presence, whether the window being open was a problem or not, whether you needed more light or less. He would keep these questions in the back of his mind for you to answer once you could again, not only so he could do better next time, but in case the nightmares we too close to be spoken about.

Usually Xiao would ask about them again in the morning, and sometimes you would discuss it then. Though the yaksha knew that nightmares were often the fears that humans accumulated, the curses that attached themselves to unsuspecting victims, he never talked about that aspect with you, indeed when he talked about it at all. Most of the time he would just listen, tracing soft circles along your back and down your arms.

Right after an episode Xiao would make his way over to you. Most of the time he would stay in one place while the episode was happening, near the candles or by the window, making sure he didn’t startle you anymore. Now though he might move every once in a while, or turn your head softly towards him if your eyes became fixated on one spot in the room. Always he’d go to open the window, and the familiarity of the routine became something that lulled you back into a sense of piece.

Not sleeping himself Xiao never told you that you need more rest, that you should go back to sleep. If you needed to stay up the rest of the night so be it, he would be there with you. If you were too tired and found yourself drifting off to sleep he would promise to protect you, to fight off any demons that might be lurking.

Sometimes Xiao feared that his burden of curses exacerbated your sleep paralysis. Those evenings he would wait for you to sleep before slipping away. Always he would leave his sleeve and his mask, making sure that if you woke up you would still have something of his presence to comfort or protect yourself with. Those nights he would stare out into Liyue and think about all the things that he carried with him, all the things that you did too.

Regardless of those nights he would be there in the morning.

“Did you sleep well afterwards?” He would always ask. Regardless of your answer, which he would surely pay attention to after his second question, he would stare into your eyes.

“Do you think things would be easier without my presence?”

Always you said no.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here!

A/N: Shout out to @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​ for inspiring/writing a lot of the headcanons used for the “Bella Suspicion” part of this chapter!

I’m posting this a day early, because, well I’m flakey like that

* You spear another piece of pineapple, your teeth grinding together

* “I think that sounds perfect!” Lauren squeals lightly grasping Bella’s shoulder, Bella gives a small smile in return.

* You know what isn’t perfect?

* The fact that nothing is going according to plan.

* It’s already a month in and NOTHING has happened. You stab another piece of pineapple, sticking it into your mouth

* You’ve hung back in the school parking lot everyday for a MONTH, you were even late to cheer practice once, just to see if the “Tyler Van Accident”  happened.

* Only it never did, and you didn’t know why until Lauren confided that she and Tyler had been hooking up lately.

* As in hooking up at her house after school before her parents came home.

* Of course it’s not going to happen when Tyler’s ditching his last period to drive to her house

* What a mess

* You chew the pineapple carefully, just like a human would. Because even though Bella knows LITERALLY NOTHING. She somehow suspects everything.

* You watch her from the corner of your eye, making polite conversation with Angela about biology next period.

* The amount of questions she has about you is ridiculous

* How did you meet Edward? How does your family know the Cullen’s? Where are you adoptive parents now? If they’re back in the states why haven’t you gone to live with them?

* It’s literally never ending. And that’s just her trying to poke holes in your story.

* You’re not even going to start with all the stuff she’s commented on your physical appearance

* “Hey don’t you think it’s weird they all have gold eyes?” You had heard Bella quietly ask Jessica when she thought you couldn’t hear

* “Not really, they’ve got like six kids, so when one kid needs something more of them do too. (Y/N) told me Alice wanted color contacts so Dr. Cullen just bought some for all of them.”

* And then the week before that, while you were doing a stunt at a basketball game Bella said:

* “Aren’t they like, too strong?” You were lifting up a girl all on your own.

* “Oh yeah- I guess you never saw the video, apparently they’re jacked.” Conner says, with a shrug.

* “Yeah they heard working out helps with stress when they were like 12 and just never stopped.” Mike adds absentmindedly

* And if that wasn’t enough she’s even said this a few weeks before that:

* “Don’t you think it’s weird how beautiful they all are?” Lauren wrinkles her nose, at the time she had gotten used to Bella but she still doesn’t seem to like her very much

* “Not really, I remember (Y/N) wasn’t all that pretty freshman year, they used to wear these really dorky glasses.”

* You had almost started to forget how good you had it, after you did all the leg work in the last two years to establish that you were normal -just kinda quirky- you had just started to enjoy the pay off. A little more lax with your appearance, wearing clothes you liked, doing more solo routines in cheer.

* Only for little Miss.Curious to show up

* Now you have to try extra hard to look human again. And not just you, the entire coven does, because when one of you falls under suspicion you all do.

* Rosalie’s been making her hair look messy every so often to give the illusion that she’s having a bad hair day, Alice wears a retainer every so often, even Emmett pretends to need the bathroom more than he usually does.

* This morning you even had Rosalie do a fake pimple on your jaw.

* If Bella wasn’t going to be your best friends’ future wife, you think you might just hate her.

* You kind of sympathize with Rosalie in the book now.

* “Hey (Y/N) are you in?” Conner asks nudging his elbow against yours.

* “In for what?” You mumble, spearing another piece of pineapple. Another downside is now you have to eat at lunch. Otherwise Bella starts asking why you never eat and everyone gets really concerned and starts force feeding you

* God, all those years of establish you have low blood sugar and acid reflux induced nausea for nothing

* “La Push beach, we’re all going this weekend.” You perk up at the mention

* Finally, something’s getting back on track

* “Can’t, cheer stuff.” You mumble, shoving your food around your plate with your fork.

* You don’t miss Bella’s meaningful glance on your mostly full plate.

* Oh great, you can practically see the question “don’t you think it’s weird how they never eat anything?” Forming in the inner corners of her mind

* “What about you Edward?” Lauren flutters her eyelashes and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

* Lauren’s still annoyed that even though they’re hooking up, Tyler hasn’t made anything official yet

* Alice told her flirting with another guy might help.

* “He’s not going either.” You say before Edward can even open his mouth. He doesn’t say anything just gives you a questioning look and a smile.

* Looks like he’s finding everyone else’s thoughts more interesting

* “Are you guys going on a date?” Jessica waggles her eyebrows and on the other side of the table Bella sputters.

* You roll your eyes

* “No Jessica, but if I can’t go have fun neither can he.” Technically you both are forbidden to go on tribal land but whatever. “Best friend code.”

* Also you’re pretty sure Edward and Emmett are going to Yellowstone to eat bears or something, like a couple of heathens

* The thought of eating straight out of bear, no idea what they’ve eaten or where they’ve been doing their business, makes you shudder. 

* You did mention to them both that if they happen to find an orphaned bear cub somewhere to bring it back. You’ve been wanting to experiment with bear blood. 

* “Best friend code.” Edward repeats slowly, and the look he gives you makes your stomach flutter. And it’s not because you just ate half a salad.

* You’re knocked out of the look when Conner bumps his knee against yours

* “Well that’s a shame, I was looking forward to seeing you in a swimsuit.”

* So Conner’s been flirting a lot with you lately. Kind of weird, your best guess is that he was hoping to date Lauren, but now that she’s kinda seeing Tyler, you’re starting to look good.

* “Maybe you should have a pool party at that fancy house of yours then.” The group laughs but Conner just smirks

* “Whatever you want babe but-“ the bell cuts him off and you give him a consolatory pat on the arm.

* You move to throw away the leftover food on your plate, walking with Edward

* “We’re ditching right?” You ask him as you toss the plate into the trash.

* “Yeah Mr. Barnes is doing his blood type experiment today.” Like he even needs an excuse to skip school. “Do you want to go to the bookstore or something?”

* You shake your head, that won’t do, when Bella faints Edward needs to be there so they can fall in love

* “Wanna just hang out in my car? We can listen to that new Debussy CD I got.”

* Edward gives you a small smile, like he’s not really happy

* “Whatever you want.”

* Wait what’s up with that.

* “Hey, (Y/N)!” Bella calls out for you and Edward grimaces.

* “I’ll meet you at your car” wait he’s not going to stay here? If this was a dating video game he’d be the kind of player that wasted all the capture flags and then complains when they end up all alone.

* He leaves just as Bella gets to you. She spares a fleeting glance in Edward’s direction, almost looking sad as she watches him walk away before she looks to you

* “Are you heading over to biology?” She really is cute, like a puppy. She must have been hoping to get a little closer to Edward. 

* You almost feel bad for not warning her what with her issues on blood.

* “Nah I’ve got to finish my trig homework so I’m going to skip.” You fake a yawn.

* Oh, before you forget

* “I actually got you something.”

* You hand her a carefully wrapped gift bag, compliments of Rosalie of course

* “Vitamins?” Bella asks, her eyebrows threading together

* “Yeah, it’s like a vitamin powder, you just add it to water. We bought a big family pack so I thought I would share some with you.”

* Also because you’re 100% sure she’s anemic.

* Part of the reason you like the way she smells so much is because of her anemia, if it’s just the peach scent you can probably contain yourself. 

* You wave goodbye and Bella looks down at the package in her hands with a goofy expression. She hugs it to her chest before her expression pinches.

* “I should have offered to let them copy my notes” Bella murmurs to herself. Smacking her forehead and walking to biology.

* When you manage to sneak out to the parking lot through the gym doors, you see Edward leaning against your car, looking bored as he looks to the tree line

* “Why didn’t you sit inside? You look like a douchebag.”

* “I would have if someone had given me the keys”

* Like that’s stopped him before

* You unlock the car, letting it start with a hum before you pull out your trig homework

* You weren’t entirely lying to Bella, you really hadn’t finished you homework

* Edward pulls out a book from his bag, you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him super into “The City of Ember” series

* “Hey why did you walk away when Bella came over?” you’re only half curious, mostly just trying to make conversation. “You don’t hate her do you?” You add with a laugh.

* The mere thought of Edward Cullen hating Bella Swan is laughable.

* “Yeah I do.” 

* You find yourself coughing from the sheer shock. 

* “You mean she frustrates you because you can’t read her mind.” Edward has spared you a concerned glance when you started coughing, but has turned his attention back to his book

*” No I mean I don’t like her, and I don’t like being around her.” He doesn’t look up from his book as he says it. 

* “But why?” Yeah she’s a little plain, and she’s still pretty shy even though you’ve been hanging out for a month and all those damn questions

* But she’s got good taste in books, and she’s pretty straightforward.

* She’s not the type of person to go behind your back, if you did something to upset her she’ll tell you straight to your face.

* Honestly she’s a lot like Angela, minus the hidden cunning nature.

* Edward eyes narrow and a heavy sigh escapes him. His head tilts back to rest against the passenger seat headrest.

* His neck is so long and white. The color of freshly fallen snow. You can’t help but think of how pretty it would look covered in hickeys.

* Like poppy’s blossoming in the snow. 

* Can vampires get hickeys? Would it just be like black instead of red since none of you really have blood anymore. 

* “I just don’t like-” He cuts himself off when his eyes meet yours, they seem to shine brighter for a moment, and you tilt your head. This feels like a meaningful look. 

* Edward sighs and looks away.

* “I just don’t like her vibe.” 

*”Vibe? Are you an Edward shaped imposter?” you see him mouth ‘Edward Shaped Imposter’ as you both laugh. 

* “Where did you learn to say these things?” He asks between laughs. You mock gasp.

* “The real Edward would never ask me that because he’s too afraid to know! Who are you really? What planet are you from?” Your hands move to his face, his face is as smooth as marble, lingering warmth. You leaned in without thinking about it, only a few inches away from him. 

* You’re so close you can smell him. He always smells good, like something ancient and profound. Rosemary and argon oil. 

* Your hands are still on his face and he’s grinning. 

* You gulp

* You’re trying to think of another ridiculous imposter joke you can make wen you catch a familiar head of blond hair through the window.

* “Is that Mike and ... Bella?”  

* This is a lot sooner than you thought, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet.

* Edward looks almost bored as he follows your gaze. 

* “Yeah, looks like she made herself sick, she’s - what’s that word for when people are afraid of blood?” 

* “Hemophobia?”

* “Yeah, that’s what she has.”

* You wait for a second, releasing his face from your hands, but instead of moving to open the door he slumps back into his seat, eyes focused on his book. 

* “Don’t you think we should go help them?” He shrugs. 

* The f*cking criminal just shrugs. 

* WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON?!?!

* Human or not, there’s no world Edward wouldn’t at least think about helping someone who’s in trouble. 

* You’re starting to think this really is an Edward imposter. 

* You watch Bella lean on Mike, stumbling down the crosswalk to the nurse’s office in the next building. 

* You can’t watch anymore 

* ‘You know you-” You words finally get Edward’s attention as he looks up from his book. “You are wasting all the capture flags!” You shout before sliding out of your car and jogging over to Mike and Bella

* “Mike! What happened?” He’s so surprised to see you his grip on Bella goes slack and she falls out of his side hold.

* “Oh crap!” 

* You rush to catch her, swinging her into a princess hold.

* What was Mike struggling with so much? She’s not very hea - oh right you’re a vampire.

* “Are you alright, I know she’s kinda heavy.” Well that’s not very nice to say about a girl, besides she’s pretty skinny. Can’t be more than 120 pounds. 

* “It’s no problem, I do it for cheer are all the time.” You do a fake grunt as you pretend to get a better hold on her. 

* The movement jostle her awake, her eyes fluttering open. She’s still in a dreamy state, her eyes are unfocused. 

* “(Y/N)?” 

* “Hey buddy, looks like ya fainted, squeamish around blood huh?”

* “How do you know we were doing the blood type experiment?” Mike asks.

* Oh crap. You were skipping, you weren’t supposed to know that. Even worse you brain can’t seem to come up with a valid excuse.

* “Alice told us about it, (Y/N) used to be squeamish around blood when we were kids, didn’t want to take any chances” You let out a sigh of relief when you see Edward walking towards you. At least he’s not completely heartless. 

*”Then why were you skipping?” Mike asks scratching his head. Edward shrugs

* “They can’t go to class, then I won’t go either.” And then the criminal looks you straight in the eye and says with the cheekiest smile imaginable:

*“It’s the best friend code”

* Oh f*ck off Edward. 

* You almost want to scoff when he takes Bella from your arms and into his.

* SO now he wants to care about the capture flag. 

* You let him take her though, You swear you see her stiffen and frown when he holds her.

* That can’t be right, she seemed super relaxed when you were carrying her.

* “I-I’m fine I can walk.”

* “No you can’t.” Edward bluntly says.

* Even when he gets to capture event, he says all the wrong things. You sigh as you walk behind him. Only to notice another set of footsteps by you. 

* “You can go back if you want Mike, Edward won’t kidnap her or anything.” He might throw her into the lake though.

* Mike shakes his head. “No it just seems wrong to not make sure she at least gets to the nurses office.” 

*You smile, he really is a kind boy. 

* “Also I’ll be damned if Bella gives Edward all the credit.” Well mostly kind.

* You get to the nurses office, who seems incredibly flustered with both you and Edward in such a small space.

* She seems so preoccupied keeping her wits about her as she checks out Bella and deals with your presence that she never asks why three people had to escort one person to the nurses office.

* “Well your blood pressure is a little low, since you fainted I would suggest you go home. If you want you can take a nap in here until school’s out.” Wow, where was a nurse this generous when you were in school.

* Bella, the beautiful moron, shakes her head.

* “No it’s okay I’ll go back to class, I don’t want to take a zero for the assignment” Well that’s noble and responsible and all. But what does she think is going to happen when she goes back to class?

* She’s going to see some blood again and faint. Not that you can be mad, you would probably have to go the the nurse too if Bella ever managed to prick her own finger

* “Bella you really shouldn’t,” You settle your hand on her shoulder pushing her back onto the chair. “You just fainted you should lie down, or go home or something.”

* Her eyebrows thread together, mouth pulled in protest. 

* “I don’t want to impose on any-”

* “It’s not an imposition, I want to!” Her mouth parts, then closes, stretching into a fine line. You look to Edward who’s avoiding your gaze and seems very irritated.

* Enemies to lovers trope it is.(Though you’re not sure if this counts as enemies if only one person dislikes the other)

* “I’m going to drop you off home, come on.” You pull Bella up by her hand, leading her to the parking lot. 

* “Wait what about my car?” 

* Oh you hadn’t thought about that. 

*Hmmm in the original book Alice drove her home. But Alice doesn’t really do anything unless there’s something in it for her, or if she wants to.

* Also you’re pretty sure when she ditched today when she found out that people were pricking there finger on campus. She claimed it was for Jasper, but you’re pretty sure there’s a sale in the Nordstrom in Seattle.

* Edward would rather get the flu than drive Bella’s ancient truck.

* Which leaves only one option.

* You toss your keys to Edward who catches them with one hand.

* “Edward will drive you home in my car, and I’ll drive your car behind him.” 

* “What about Rosalie?” He grumbles.

*“What about Rosalie?” Why is he being so difficult right now? Doesn’t he realize you’re doing this all for him!

* “You’re driving her home since Emmett and I are leaving for Yellow Stone as soon as school lets out.” Oh right the bears. Cr*p.

* “It’s not a big deal, I’ll drive back to school after we’re done and you can go your way and I’ll go mine.”

* You can tell Edward doesn’t like it, but he just sigh’s climbing into your car and then promptly getting out of the passenger side and sitting in the driver’s side.

* The dork forgot he had to drive the car.

* You’re dying laughing as Bella leads you to her car.

* “It’s the blue one.”

* Her truck isn’t all that bad. It’s old, but in a kind of retro way. It’s powder blue, with only two doors and no backseat. 

* You climb in, turning the engine and hearing it purr. Well it’s more of a roar, but it’s not terrible.

* You’re surprised when Bella climbs through the passenger side door. 

* “Um, you’re not going to drive with Edward?” She looks at you like you just asked her to recite the Fibonacci sequence. 

* “Why would I go with him when you’re the one driving my car?” Okay, that’s fair.

* You sigh, why does nothing ever go according to plan.

* Maybe it’s for the best, Edward doesn’t seem to be in the best mood. Not that this is good either, she’s sitting so close to you, her peachy scent fills the small space of the truck and you feel lightheaded.

* It’s less than a ten minute trip, no need to get dramatic. You’re pretty sure you won’t kill her just because she smells nice.

* “Soooooo... what do you want to talk about?” You ask as you turn out of the school, this car is super slow compared to yours, you’re pretty sure it won’t go over 50 mph.

* Bella fidgets beside you, playing with the ends of her hair. 

* “So are you and Edward...dating?”

* You laugh so loud you actually start coughing. And then you laugh again. 

* “No-pfff- no We’re uh- we’re not dating.” You finally manage. 

* “Why is that so funny to you?” She asks, genuinely confused.

* “Well it’s just outrageous you know?” How would that even work? You can’t even picture it. Edward getting all hot and bothered because you’re wearing an oversized sweater and glasses. You flirting with him all over the house in front of Carlisle and Esme. Edward signing up for a sport just so he can see you in his letterman.

* It’s all...impossible.

* And yet, there is one thing you can picture. 

* Edward by your side, he’s almost golden brown, his eyes bright green. He points to the living room, and in there are Alec and Jane, both of their eyes blue as they argue over who’s turn it is to watch TV. 

* Maybe if you were human, if you had met in a different world or a different time, that would be something you could have. 

* But it is what it is

* “Edward and I have been friends for a really long time, we’ve just seen too much of each other to find each other attractive like that.” 

* Bella looks like she doesn’t believe you but she doesn’t say anything.

* Wait what are you doing? This is the perfect chance to talk Edward up!

* “But you know Edward is a real stand up guy!” It leaves a little too forcefully, a little inauthentic.

* “Oh is he?” She doesn’t sound too excited to be talking about this.

* “I know he’s got one of those face-”

* “Obnoxiously handsome?” She spats 

* “Like he thinks existence is a curse, and the world is evil and everything is terrible -” Wait you’re getting off track. “B-but he really is a good guy!”

* You bite your lip, as Bella tells you to turn into a subdivision. 

* “You know after- after I was adopted,” After your parents died. “I was really lonely, I had a family that loved me and anything I asked for but I didn’t really have anyone to talk to” Oh god, why did you choose this story to pick? “Edward was probably the only friend my age I had for years.”

* She straightens up a little bit, a curious glint in her eyes.

* “Really?” You nod.

* “Yeah he would come by every Monday and Wednesday,” You still remember the crunch of the snow under your feet as you both walked to the barn. He always asked why you didn’t just run, and you always told him because you liked the way you could see your breath hang in the air,

* “He could have been out that time, hanging out with other people,” More well adjusted vampires, who hunted instead of harvesting small amounts from animals they raised. “or chasing girls and playing sports, but he stayed with me.”

* “He always made me feel safe, and I’m sure whoever is lucky enough to end up with him will feel that way too.” 

* “I think you’re giving him too much credit” Bella finally says, you smile at her

* “what do you mean?” 

* “Well, who wouldn’t drop everything to hang out with you?” You can’t tell if she’s being genuine or if she’s bitter. Your eyes meet hers and there’s a twinkle in them. ”My house is the one on the left, the one with the magnolia tree.”

* You come to a stop in front of the house she mentioned, shifting it into park, and handing her the keys. 

* You don’t say anything as you climb out of her car. You see Edward stopped a few dozen feet behind her truck, your jeep still on. 

* “Thanks for driving me home” She smiles at you, a real smile that reaches her eyes. It’s nice.

* “No problem, it gave me an excuse to ditch school too haha.” You both stand in awkward silence. Neither of you moving. 

* Well damn what are you supposed to do now?

* “Oh, hey do you want me to bring you your homework or anything?” 

* She perks up at that, reaching into her pocket

*  “If you don’t mind, could you text me what page he homework is on for trig today?” 

* “ Oh for sure! No problem at all” You take her cell phone in your hand. It’s a white sidekick, with a picture of a cactus on the back. She must have gotten it when she moved.

* You can’t help but wonder if she has any friends she misses. She spent her entire life in one community, sure Phoenix is a pretty big place, but she must have had friends, people she sat with at lunch everyday, girls she had known since childhood, sleepovers where they whispered about boys they had crushes on.

* As you hand her phone back, your contact information saved in it, you can’t help but wonder who this person in front of you is. You know her, but at the same time, you know absolutely nothing about her. 

* “See you Monday!” You wave goodbye as you get into the passenger side of your car, and Bella waits on the porch until you and Edward leave.

* Edward’s got that look on his face.

* “Edward why are you mad?” 

* “I’m not mad.” He grumbles and you raise an eyebrow. He sighs.

* “You’re going out of your way an awful lot for that human.” He says as he turns back onto the highway.

* “It’s just the right thing to do Eddie.” 

* He shakes his head, his mouth pinched into a frown

* “Just be careful, I don’t know what that one’s thinking, she could be planning to burn our entire coven for all I know.”

* You roll your eyes, yeah you bet Bella who weights exactly 115 pounds, and has anemia is single handedly planning to bring down the entire vampire race. 

* “How about we make a deal, I’ll promise not to rock the boat while you and Emmett are gone-”

* “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret not covering my ears?”

*” If you promise to bring me back a bear cub - an orphaned one.” He gives you a look you don’t quite care for.

* “You want me to kill a mother bear so you can have a bear cub?” 

* “No of course not! I’m just saying- Emmett doesn’t really look before he kills  so if he kills a mother bear, just make sure you bring me the cubs.” 

* “Why do you even want a bear? How are you planning to take care of it with all those deer around, they need a lot-”

* “Yes Dad I know it’s a big responsibility, don’t worry I won’t make you take it on walks or anything.” 

* Edward gulps hard, one hand detaching from the steering wheel to cover his mouth. 

* Wouldn’t it be positively sinful for you to be underneath him, whining ‘daddy, please’ in that breathy voice of yours and-

* Edward.exe is broken. 

* “Dude you really need to get your shit together before you go on your trip, we’ve been parked for fifteen minutes and your foot is still on the brake.” You say as you get out of the car

* He hits his head against the steering wheel.

* “Yeah, I really do need to get my shit together.” 

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx  @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ @hotmessgoodness​

[creativeashproductions]

Elysium // Luke Patterson

Summary: The boys of Julie and the Phantoms need a hail Mary to dethrone Downslide from opening for Panic! At the Disco. While Willie is done to help his blue eyed crush and his friends there’s one issue: Willie can’t drive the bus. Moving a bench is one thing but driving an entire tour bus?  There’s only one person who can and Willie’s not sure where she is after year of no communication

Warnings: Swearing, angst, talk of death (it’s a ghost show, why is this a warning??), mention of assault, violence, and fluff.

Words: 11.5k

A/N: This is why I haven’t posted much in the last week. I’ve been writing this massive fic that I refused to turn into a series. My god, 11k words. I don’t think I’ll be doing this again. Enjoy and comment if you figured out who Rudy is!

Masterlist

There wasn’t much in the afterlife that you enjoyed after time spent in the limbo between the living and dead. Listening to songs before they were released lost its appeal just as much as dancing on stage with the ballet companies around the world, of being an unseen extra in shows and films being filmed.

Then you found a purpose a couple, well it could be more than a couple, years ago when you found a lost soul. William Young, Willie to his friends, had been sitting on the curb staring at the pavement entirely still as he had for two days.

The time from the last breath you took to walking the streets of Los Angeles was a blur in all honesty. The years bled together as you stayed stationary in a world that kept on spinning and changing, growing up. You had watched your friends hit new milestones you could only daydream about. Friends that graduated college and built new lives on the ashes of memories that included you.

Today’s walk was an attempt to escape your friends’ greying versions standing in front of a once vibrant sculpture. It happened every single year, but this one hurt the most. Listening to your friends recall stories of all the adventures you did together.

From being drunken idiots jumping off cliffs into that one lake the summer of freshman year. Or making a bonfire on the school’s roof with all the entryways blocked, rather stupid with the exits being blocked as well. Sneaking into concerts and stealing that one car that came close to sending you to boarding school.

The rebellion that still lived in you had mellowed in the five individuals with the adult responsibilities of family and work. Martha had removed all piercings but her lobes while Chase quit dying his hair colour. Jordan now had three children and a bought house.

Seeing the group no longer young had made your feet swiftly move from the memorial for a walk. The only thing that stopped you in your tracks was tripping over something in front of you.

“Ouch.” You hissed rolling onto your back with a moan of pain that faded with the sniffles.

Curled into his knees, sitting on the curb was a teenage boy about your age. Long hair curtaining his profile you found your eyes grasping the cracked helmet that spoke for itself abandoned by his side.

“Your kinda a hazard there.” You simply spoke sitting down next to the distraught teenager, “Heads up, I suck at comforting people.”

At his silence, you spoke once more, “I’m digging the tie-dye. Did you do it yourself?”

“This is some kind of stupid coma dream right?” The boy’s voice was husky from crying and disuse, “I’m probably in some kind of hospital with a tube down my throat.”

“I’d say yes, but it would be a blatant lie.” You spoke twirling a loose thread on your jeans while the stranger gazed at a spot on the street.

His dark brown eyes bloodshot as he remembered the car honking mere seconds before he heard the sound of a thud. He recalled struggling to breathe with his broken ribs and his screams being illustrated with bloodstains.

He remembered thinking how he had just bought that board a week ago with his allowance.

“Am I really dead?”

“Yes. We’re are a couple ghosts in a lively city.” You informed him with one handheld in the space between your ethereal forms. The teen hesitantly placed his hand in yours with a firm shake.

“William but call me Willie.” He softly told you, catching sight of the patch on your jean jacket—one of many from both when your grandma owned it and then when you did.

“I’m Y/N. Let’s blow this disappointment. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know.” Brushing off the invisible dust on your jeans, you held your hand out to him, “We’re about to make the afterlife our bitch.”

A stark contrast to his former hesitance he immediately grasped your hand to tug himself off the curb. The forlorn skater didn’t question the board in your hand or how he could possibly even touch his own board. He didn’t wonder how it wasn’t in pieces like it had been when he first got hit.

That rebellion that ended your life flared again in the presence of your best friend with crashing Justin Bieber’s house. Of rearranging items in classrooms to freak teachers out and sitting in the cars turning the radio on and off. Haunting the living until the friendship fractured under the influence of a powerful ghost.

Caleb Covington had bewitched the skater with promises and extravagant gifts until Willie had taken the offer.

“He’s not like you said he was! I think you should give him a chance!” Willie cried following you around the place you had taken to be home.

“Willie he’s a bad guy! He butters you up until you give him what you want! That’s when you see his true colours. All he wants is your soul to power his magic and spread his reach!”

“I got to talk to my sister!”

“Your sister is five years old! It’s not Covington that gave you the opportunity. She won’t remember the experience as anything other than an invisible friend!”

“There are so many people at the Club that we can talk to. Aren’t you tired of the same routine and people we see?”

Willie’s pleading brought your full attention to the skater avoiding your gaze, “William Young…you took his offer.”

Willie tore his gaze from the art on the wall to find yours blatantly glaring at him with a bucket of random colour in your hand.

“The Club is going to France to tour around the country for a while. I’m dead, so I might as well make the best of it. Besides who gets to skate through the Louvre!” Willie beamed, watching as a small smile, found its way on your face at his excitement, “I’m sure Caleb would let you come to the Club tonight!”

“Willie, you are my best friend, but I’ve already seen the Club. It’s not my style, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That interaction was one of the very few speckled through the years when Caleb discovered who you were. No matter his offers, you never took the deal and when he saw how close you and Willie where he kept the skater busy. The Club didn’t appear in Los Angeles for a long time until Willie’s distance seemed too great to bridge.

“So, you need a way for the slot to be empty?” Willie asked the trio of ghosts all spread around the area.

Unfortunately for Luke, the only person they could get help from was from the very guy that placed them in a predicament. While Alex was the one spearheading the conversation with the long-haired skater Luke was glowering in his direction.

“The Orpheum was the thing we never got to do. We spent hours practising and performing with one goal-“

“Play the Orpheum and get distance from our parents. Well, at the time that streetdog and becoming legendary was my main focus.” Reggie recounted the feeling of suffocating in a house filled with fighting. A home he wished still stood, now dead all he wanted was to see his parents.

“We almost did it too.” Luke pouted relaxing his glare at the skater who openly sent apologetic gazes at Alex’s bandmates.

“So, we need to get rid of the opening band.” Willie nodded to himself, thinking about ways before he caught sight of the abject horror on the band. The skater’s eyebrows raised, “I know I deeply fractured the trust, but I’m not suggesting murder.”

“Okay. Good.” Reggie whistled relaxing his tense posture while Luke grumbled under his breath an insult that in turn got Alex’s arm into the guitarist’s ribs.

“Your best bet would be getting the bus out of LA. The band will probably celebrate the upcoming gig.”

“Could you make the bus disappear?” Alex hesitantly questioned shifting in his now vintage sneakers. The blonde-haired drummer flushed slightly under the endearing smile from the skater. The feelings create a confliction within Alex under Willie’s issue, leading them straight into a madman’s hands.

“I can move a bench, turn sirens on, but a bus is outside my paygrade.” Willie openly admitted showing his hands deep in his pockets, “The only person other than Caleb that has enough power-“

“-is he just as evil?” Luke demanded crossing his arms to glare at the male that had unfortunately caught the interest of Alex.

However, Luke couldn’t blame Alex for falling for this guy because well, Luke saw the teenage ghost’s appeal. Willie was attractive, but he wasn’t the type of person Luke would fall for. Plus he had initially made Alex incredibly happy, and Luke would never blame Alex for that.

“She is as different from Caleb as one can be. She uh…she taught me everything about being a ghost. Actually, found me where I died.” Willie cleared his throat as the guilt and sadness reared its head from deep within him. The guilt of leaving his little sister to grow up without him and the sorrow of not growing up with the girl.

It wasn’t often Willie allowed himself to remember the little girl, barely five when he died, who was always dancing. His little sister adored the colour purple and anything shiny and more than once Willie had let her dress him up. Willie’s greatest regret is that he’d never have that interaction with her. God, she’d be around his age now and in high school.

“Okay, so where is she?” Reggie clapped his hands, bringing the skater out of his thoughts and back into the present.

Luke saw the hesitation in Willie, “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“Kinda?” Willie trailed off bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I haven’t seen her in years now. Last time I saw her we fought about the whole joining Caleb thing? I’m not even sure if she’s still in LA.”

“Of fucking course,” Luke grunted shoving both hands in his hair taking a few steps away from the other ghosts.

First, he dies, then he gets caught up in some bullshit revenge plot, then makes a deal with the devil without realizing it, and now their one chance is going up in flames. Luke Patterson was livid with the universe and the shitty hand he had been dealt, but at least he had his friends with him.

“It can’t hurt to look for her?” Reggie innocently offered with a shake of his shoulders, “It’s not like we have any other option.”

“Did we ever even have options?” Luke hissed, causing Willie and Alex each to flinch with the different guilt they carried.

Alex was guilty of going to Willie for help when getting back at Bobby was the biggest thing. Willie was guilty of ignoring his instincts on keeping Alex as far from Caleb as he could be he just wanted to impress the drummer. It’s not like Willie had many options for dating, and well, Alex was the first to get his entire focus.

“Dude. Stop. No one saw it coming.” Reggie bumped his hip against the annoyed guitarist, “Let’s find this ghost and get our shot at playing.”

The quartet of dead guys didn’t have high hopes of finding the girl in question, but it seemed the universe took pity on Luke Patterson. Just two hours into their search on the edges of the city limits an individual was walking.

The person’s stature leaned against a smashed concrete wall of the skeleton of where a building once was. The only thing the group could make out was a faded jean jacket with splotches of colour. Her ankles crossed as her back leaned against the cement, oozed laid back confidence. Coming closer, Luke noticed the sunglasses perched on top of her head and the lips painted dark.

“What do you need Willie? I heard you were looking for me.” The husky voice drew Luke in the most. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms enamoured with the girl.

“How’d-“Willie’s question was cut off as you simply tapped your right index finger against your temple.

“How do you think you managed to get here?” You inquired pushing off the cement to stride over to the group. To Willie’s surprise, he was tugged into your embrace before swiftly pushed away, “Come on. We should head in before someone catches us.”

In the dark as much as the other three ghosts, Willie dutifully followed you past the pieces of cement littered around the area. Gasps of surprise sounded as the once empty space became filled with buildings. It was not as extravagant as the hotel the Club worked out of, but it was hidden from the living and dead eyes.

“Where did this come from?” Reggie gasped astounded by the people once hidden from his view, moving around the area. 

“This is Elysium. Don’t judge the name I lost the right in a poker game with Susie and Rudy. I’m Y/N.” You informed the group leading them to the gate where two people stood stoically guarding it, “Rudy was hellbent on calling it Valhalla.”

“This is Luke, Reggie and Alex.” Willie gestured to the awed trio of musicians only lingering on the blonde. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the attraction between the skater and the blonde; finding a date in the afterlife was a lot harder than the living.

Nodding a greeting to the two ghosts, you lead the group to a building painted a pretty turquoise blue colour. The sign above the double doors a stark white with calligraphy writing simply stating Elysium Management. It was a building set up like an administrative office of three stories, and you led the group right up to the top floor.

“Just a heads up…Rudy is a little suspicious of people.” You admitted standing outside a door with a nameplate the only descriptor, “He’ll come off a little gruff and rude, but when you get passed that he doesn’t shut up.”

“I can hear you through the door dumbass.” The words were called out from the office door opening.

The man standing in the entry wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His honey-brown eyes lit up with a teasing look before it shuttered at the sight of four strangers behind you. Rudy had valid reasons to not fully trust people after the shitshow in his hometown when he was alive.

“And you’ve brought strangers.” Rudy deadpanned with a sigh concluding his sentence as he stepped back into the office. It appeared like the world repositioned itself on the young man’s shoulders once more.

“I should be done within the hour. We can go over everything.” You informed your business partner and friend. Receiving only a nod from Rudy, you closed the door to his office, cutting off the view from your guests.

“He’s..uh.”

“Standoffish? Rudy keeps his past to himself, all he’s ever revealed is that he’s from a town a few hours away.” You spoke, opening the door to your own office decorated differently from Rudy’s more sterile black and white aesthetic.

Your office had splashes of colour with vintage posters of both music and film framed on the walls—a plush couch in the corner with a basket of blankets next to it. Instead of sitting behind the dark desk, you chose the couch instead. As you settled in the corner, you flicked one finger bringing an extra seat over.

The motion shocking the three boys accompanying Willie who had seen the abilities himself.

“Okay so why did you want to search for me?” You questioned the skater leaning back in the seat.

“When did this all happen?” Willie countered gesturing to the office in a building settled in the middle of a ghost town. A literal ghost town.

“There’s an empty lot in LA that used to house an abandoned apartment building that Rudy and I both called home. Of course, it was torn down, and we kinda knew that there’s wasn’t a place that didn’t have the threat of being annihilated at some point.” The memories of those unknown days trickled into your mind among the more positive ones, “We wanted a home. A place to call our own.”

“A week or so later a skittish pixie of a brunette crashed into us full speed. Susie had a certain ability that Caleb desired to have under his thumb. There are so many ghosts he had manipulated into selling him their soul. Rudy and I both wanted to stop Caleb from having that chance for everyone.” You continued, “Can I show you?”

The moon shone through the light clouds as a duo wandered LA’s streets in different mental states. The only home you had known had been unceremoniously ripped down with no future plans in place. Your entire life had been in that apartment in a building you had once thought only you inhabited. You had been unaware that on a separate floor, Rudy had been dwelling.

The two teens in starkly different clothing grew close with each other through the whole being the dead thing they shared. The mission was to find another place too, use but the feeling of home being ripped away tore at their hearts. The apartment was a place Caleb Covington hadn’t been aware of.

Your thoughts threatened to turn darker as a force knocked you onto your bac—aA short brunette groaning in pain to the left of you. The girl was Gwen, who would become very important to both Rudy and you.

I’ve always been a little different than most people. I can move things short distances, but I developed a specific talent. I can get inside people’s minds to plant, remove or alter memories or simply talk and read their thoughts.

The sound of your voice in their heads freaked them out more than they would like to admit. The intrusive tickle of something in their brains unsettling as you made a more present entry so they could feel it.

“What?”

“This is why I can’t be anywhere near Caleb. The whole reason he gives people stamps and takes their souls is because of me.” You fully admitted clasping your fingers in your lap, “He couldn’t cope with the fear of another ghost leaving so added a stipulation to joining his Club.”

“How did you come to create Elysium?” Alex inquired leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. Luke and Reggie followed his posture as the anticipation built.

“Everyone deserves a safe place. A place as far away from Caleb as possible and we do so for free. No fee is required, and ghosts are free to come and go as they please. They are welcome as long as their unfinished business keeps them in this plane.”

It sounded like a sweet deal to the group of teens, but they had other commitments, “You can tell us more, but we need your help.”

The pleading in the messy-haired brunette tore at your heartstrings like the one time Willie brought you to his house. It had been shortly before your friendship fractured, a few years ago. He had brought you to a suburb for low-income families and straight to the backyard where a twelve-year-old year danced.

The dead skater boy and the rebel sat in the patio chair on the tiny porch nestled in the postmark sized backyard. A quintet of pre-pubescent girls danced on the lawn to some bubblegum pop song. The Young girl was submissive to a more confident girl even when the venue was the Young girl’s home.

“The girl to the left is my little sister Kayla. She’s twelve now, it’s been seven years since I died.” Willie’s brown eyes saddened at the dancer who had a spark of maturity in her eyes, “I check in every once in a while. These are Kayla’s friends. The bossy girl is Carrie, and while the band is a group, she is the unofficial leader of the band Carrie’s Constellations.”

 “She looks happy.”

“Kayla’s always been bubbly in personality, but she had questionable friends.” Willie outright admitted keeping his eyes pinned to the girl that had grown up in a blink of an eye. Her dark hair concealed by the gaudy purple wig; the colour assigned to the teenager.

“It’s nice that she still enjoys dance.” Willie finished reaching out to grab your hand in his and just like that Willie transitioned back into carefree, “I found this really cool skatepark I think you’d like.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Alex winced as the three musicians flinched as a sudden purple spark of colour lit up their midsections.

Like a tentacle, your mind reached into the quiet raven-haired boy with the leather jacket. Beyond the imagery of docile golden retrievers and steaming plates of food, you found the regret and fear in the boy. Stepping into a recent memory, you watched their experience at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“You’ve met Caleb.” You sighed roughly pushing your index finger between your brows feeling the familiar ache.

“It was a stupid decision,” Luke spoke up, tearing his focus from the mysterious girl that ultimately had the power in her hands. The entire plan was weighing on the decision you would give, “Either we join his house band, or we don’t exist.”

“Hm.” You spoke as the kaleidoscope of colours in Luke’s eyes glittered under the sterile lights of the room. It was difficult to look away from the enthralling teenage ghost, but the emotion wafting off Willie was concerning.

“They died before they could perform at the Orpheum. We’re banking that getting the opening slot with giving them the push into crossing over.” The long-haired skater leaned closer, “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I can’t do much.”

“So, you want to pull ’09 incident again?” You completely ignored the trio on the couch staring directly at the sheepish skater with raised eyebrows, “Only this time without the train?”

“Train?” Alex whispered, looking between the two long-time friends with interest and then next thing he knew Alex was in the backseat of a van crushed between Reggie and Luke equally confused.

Chicago, Illinois 2009

William Young and Y/N Y/L/N were complete hellions in the ghost world, creating havoc that fascinated the living population. The recent event being the highjacking of a van filled with drunk teenage boys. These boys had been the sole reason a young girl was recovering in a hospital with life-threatening injuries. The scene changed to a hospital room with Willie and Y/N watching a girl with massive bruising laid.

It had hit both Willie and Y/N hard catching the tail end of the new report, Willie thinking of how that could have been his sister. Even if Kayla was only five years old, having a sister set things more in perspective. For you it was a flashback to when you were alive and thus led you to the ICU room for the girl.

Slipping into her unconscious mind was easy but while the injured teen appeared peaceful to the hospital staff, she was anything but. The poor girl’s mind replayed the traumatic incident over and over like a movie; keeping in the shadows, you gently repainted the portrait with lighter and brighter images. 

For Willie, he watched as you wavered on your ghostly feet and smoothed out the features of the girl. The heart monitor subtly changing as the injured girl relaxed, and suddenly your interference heightened her chances of survival.

“I got it.” You spoke to Willie with a heated glare on your features and when the ghostly musician trio blinked they were back in the van.

Your hands gripped the van’s steering wheel with Willie turned in the passenger seat to watch a group of living boys scream. To the living eyes in the van, no one was in the front seats but whispered words spoke into their minds.

You’re going to go straight to the police and tell them what you did. You’ll hand over the photographic evidence and demand the worst punishment. You’ll leave the girl alone, or we’ll come back to finish our job. You will pay for the hospital bills if the family agrees. 

The boys trembled with the putrid scent of urine permeating the enclosed vehicle. The distant sound of a train echoed in the distance as the van stopped on the tracks. No matter how much the living boys moved the doors refused to open, and the windows remained unbreakable.

“WE promise!” The ringleader cried, slamming his shoulder against the door with the train’s bright lights illuminating the van.

“Let us go!” The other screamed, slamming his bruising hands on the window.

Alex was flinching at each slam of fists on the glass, leaving smears of blood. Knuckles broke from the window. At the very last second, your foot slammed the gas pedal taking the van millimetres from the train screeching on the tracks.

You and Willie stared at the stationary train lit up from the van’s headlights with the rhythmic flashes of the red and blue police lights. The van’s seat arrangement was different with the ringleader in the driver’s seat. 

The three ghost musicians standing unseen behind the duo but in the real world out of the dreamlike memory you knew.

Elysium, Present Day

“Holy fucking shit.” Alex cussed out of breath, leaning back on the couch with shaking limbs and fear in his bloodless veins.

Luke’s eyes blinked owlishly at the boy that he had once thought could never do something as terrifying and torturous. He was afraid to even ask the outcome of the life-threatening incident you did on the assailants.

“That is the reason for the train.” You barely glanced at the shaken trio to stare at who had once been your partner in crime, “Willie, I have responsibilities here. We just opened a new division for the children we house here.”

“It would take a few hours.” Willie pleaded, positioning his hands into a pleading position turning on his charm. The puppy eyes you had always struggled to say no to as if you weren’t the type of person easily capable of staying strong.

“We’ll do anything.” Luke pleaded just as much recalling the countless times he had charmed himself out of situations, “Please help us.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements with Rudy and Susie, but I might be able to pull some strings. I’m really sorry Willie, but I’m gonna need to erase your knowledge of this place. There are too many people depending on this setup.”

Outside the Orpheum

Outside the legendary venue, three out of four band members for Julie and the Phantoms walked up to the marquee. Hopefully, the letters for Downslide would be changed into their band name just under the main act. Everything was riding on Willie and Y/N’s capabilities. Trusting the skater was challenging to do and more so someone they didn’t fully know.

“Look, don’t worry, guys. Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex soothed his friends on each side of him. All three wearing concerned expressions at the place that hopefully was their last stop before crossing over.

“This is gonna work, right?” Reggie questioned with his hand confidently sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. The relaxed posture a juxtaposition to the anxiety and nerves on his flushed face.

“It has to.” Luke’s lips pursed into a pout with his words tinged with a dialect different from his best friends. The faint souvenir from the place he spent a few years growing up before moving to LA.

Luke’s words were highlighted by the groans of pain as that flash of purple courtesy of Caleb’s death stamp appeared. All three hunched over clutched their chests breathing through the pain; Luke was the first to unfurl his form.

“Whoa!” You gasped flashing underneath the marquee beside Willie. Rushing to give Luke support without even a second thought.

When the aftershock faded, the guitarist stood straight up with a thankful smile that boarded on adoration.

“Are you guys, okay?” Willie asked, keeping back with the swell of guilt that happened, seeing the familiar symptoms of post-shock. He had felt them a time or two in the time he had sold his soul to his unfortunate boss.

“Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before,” Alex replied, rubbing his hand over the baby blue shirt he had chosen today. His blue eyes doing their best to avoid looking into the puppy-like ones of the skater, “How’d it go?”

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” Willie proudly announcing turning on his heel to show off the Downslide jacket he took from the lead singer. His fist extending to bump yours instinctively before he did so with Luke.

“With no chance of getting back in time.” You snickered in response living on the adrenaline and nostalgia of the rebellion. With Elysium, you had turned around your life, “Meaning-“

“-there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.”

 “Nah. This is Hollywood, man.” Willie scoffed with a wave of his hand matching the one you supplied, “I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

As Willie finished his sentence up in the promotor’s office out of earshot of the ghosts stood a very pissed adult. His finger-wagging his finger with teeth clenched, his flushed skin a juxtaposition to the cheery blue Hawaiian style shirt. Frank Wolfe couldn’t believe how stupid his once opening band was.

“What do you mean the bus drove itself into the middle of the desert?” Frank questioned progressively growing more and more frustrated. His assistant Tasha casting concerned looks to her typically collected boss, “BUSES DON’T DRIVE THEMSELVES!”

Tasha flinched at the sudden loud growl of the sentence but more so as Wolfe starting slamming the phone into the cradle. Her fingers halting on her keyboard, going over the list of frequent acts. Unfortunately, the five acts had other commitments causing Tasha to fear tonight. The blonde lady was worried Wolfe could have a breakdown once more.

While Willie snickered to his own words, your eyes, not your mind, could read that Alex wanted to talk to the skater. With only a teasing jab of your elbow in Willie’s ribs you shuffled around the drummer to join Reggie and Luke away from the ‘will they won’t they’ couple.

“So, can you do me a favour?” Luke hesitantly questioned you with his inquisitive eyes a greener colour in the sunlight. His attractive eyes took your full attention with a simple tilt of your head, “Julie’s family means a lot to us, and could you keep an eye on them?”

“And Carlos,” Reggie interjected rocking on his polished pleather boots he had spent ages on finding for his rocker aesthetic back in the ’90s.

“-Julie’s little brother.” Luke supplied at the confusion painted clearly on your pretty features. His green eyes scoured your face as he always did that flushed both his and your faces red.

“Yeah, of course, I can.” You firmly told the two dead boys each standing tense in front of you.

You could easily see the love they held for the living family that had come to mean so much in such a short amount of time. Since first meeting them you had always gotten the feeling that their living years weren’t the best. For Alex, it was living in the ’90s as a young gay teenager during a terrifying time for the LGBTQ+ community. Reggie flinched at the raised voices, and Luke had longingly stared after the happy families milling around the Elysium.

“Did you ever find out what your unfinished business was?” Reggie inquired fixing a strand of his dark hair that had fallen onto his blemish-free skin. Your smile faltered at his question; nonetheless, you answered.

“I did.” The two words carried a sense of pain with them. Your eyes unfocused recalling the euphoric feeling of seeing the breathtaking white light of the peace exuding from the beyond and the agony of denying crossing over.

“How-“

“Hey! Y/N!” Willie called out to the young denim wearing ghost with his beaming grin, “Don’t go stealing buses without me!”

Luke swore he could see your laughter in the air, just as endearing as the smoky quality your voice carried.

“Don’t go glitter bombing criminals.” You returned as your best friend dropped his board to skate off to wherever he was needed. It was bittersweet to reconnect with him knowing that it could be the last time.

When Caleb found out, not an if but a when Willie had a hand in helping his desired band it was high chance Willie would be gone. Caleb was all too powerful, and when he was betrayed, it never ended well.

“I need to get back to Elysium. Susie’s arrival is tonight. Good luck with tonight.” Your words were accompanied by a hug for each of the boys. The one with Luke lingering the most, “I wish you could play for the kids.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The brunette, messy-haired boy’s words carried a hidden desire simply to be in your space more. The teenage ghost helps those in limbo while wearing a jean jacket with patches from many decades. The jacket creating an unknown time you had lived.

“Goodbye, boys.” You told the trio before you poofed away from the busy streets of Hollywood where the band had come full circle in death.

“Are you guys, okay?” Reggie inquired his best friends, forgoing his casual personality for the layers underneath. His blue-green eyes filled with only concern.

Alex and Luke shared a lingering look, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The dining hall was filled with long tables and chairs populated by the ghostly forms of everyone currently living at Elysium. It was reminiscent of a British book turned film series of youth with magic abilities. The series had been a favourite of a former resident.

“Incredible.” Susie breathed staring at the joyful people having a place to call home. Making the limbo between life and death more bearable.

“We’ve done well. You smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, “It’s so nice to have you back.”

Elysium was so much more than you could ever hope for. It kept growing and growing with more ghosts. Since the founding of the haven, new developments continuously happened with one resident’s unique ability.

Harvey had joined the haven a year into the founding bringing the ability to gift the residents with the capacity to eat. During his life, Harvey had been a renowned chef and the dream to make food it carried into his death. As long as Harvey cooked the food with his volunteer staff ghosts were able to eat it.

“Harvey has outdone himself again,” Rudy announced his arrival at your side with his arms crossed, displaying his corded muscles. The constellation of moles on his face standing on his pale creamy skin.

“Rudy!” Susie squealed, throwing herself into his arms with the same glee that came each time. Susie and Rudy since their first meeting had a special bond as chosen siblings who bonded over heartache.

Rudy had died, leaving his best friend and his strawberry blonde girlfriend in the living world back in their dark hometown. It was just one tidbit he had revealed throughout your friendship. The only physical connection to his living friends was the three picture on his desk of a group of people.

The first picture had a lean version of Rudy with his arms thrown over a Hispanic boy with a crooked jaw and glimmering brown eyes. The Hispanic boy had his arm around a pretty brunette girl with deep dimples and wavy brown hair. The two boys wore a sports uniform of some kind holding lacrosse sticks.

The second picture had Rudy and the Hispanic teen again but with a beautiful petite strawberry blonde. Along with them was a brunette with blunt chin-length hair and hardened features besides a shorter blonde male with blue eyes.

The last picture was of Rudy with the same Hispanic boy wearing graduation caps and gowns with two beaming adults. The male adult wore a tan shirt adorned with a star on his left pec and dark brown pants. He had to be Rudy’s father with similar features. The woman was of Hispanic descent with laugh lines, and thick dark curly hair pulled into a half do; obviously the Hispanic teen’s mother.

The pain in Rudy’s face each time he saw the pictures closed off a desire to ask him about the people.

“Hello, Susie.” Rudy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her small stature, “How was Europe?”

“Why don’t you ask the five newcomers I found before Caleb?” Susie teased gesturing to the ragtag of new ghosts immersed in conversations.

“Family?”

“A boarding school had a fire. Those five were in the fire when it happened and the only victims out of seven that didn’t cross over.” Susie’s tone faded into a melancholy tone with her small arms wrapping around her middle. Faded brown eyes staring at the younger of the five seeing herself in them.

“That’s terrible.” You whispered, staring at the table with one finger picking the patch of a band from the ’70s, “I can’t imagine how scary that could have been.”

“Yeah.” Susie softly spoke, pushing a strand of her hair off her temple just as equally sad for the way that death had no qualms of how it took.

The youngest ghost in Elysium had been a three-year-old toddler who passed over quickly when he was found by the deceased mother. The two had been separated at death and luckily shared the same unfinished business of finding each other.

“Miss Reynold’s has twelve spirits that finished their business.” Rudy softly informed his two partners. Soft smiles formed on their faces at the happy news of Elysium’s goal being accomplished again.

“May they find everlasting peace and serenity.” Your words intertwined with Susie in perfect sync of the motto coined after the first crossover, “I suppose the Serenity will begin planning?”

“Have the Serenity ever not performed their duty?” Rudy raised one dark eyebrow with a rhetorical question. E/c and faded brown met recalling the countless times Elysium had hosted a celebration for those who found their unfinished business.

“That is-whoa.” You gasped stumbling at the scream echoing in your mind accessorized with the vintage sound of a band.

Calloused hands grasped your shaking form from collapsing onto the ground from a proverbial psionic shove. Agony slammed your brain flickering into an old fashioned club filled with people in both colour or black and white attire. You caught sight of baby pink, deep royal blue and bright red suits. The pained screams of a skater in a dark room overtaking the music in the Club.

“No.” You whispered clenching your hands on your head, feeling the dread building in the pit of your stomach.

The joyful voices in the hall muted while your body flickered with the deep instinct to leave the haven for the one place that utterly terrified you. It was the familiar touch of Susie and Rudy that kept you from finding the one person that meant the world. Willie’s soul was on the cutting board, and Caleb obsession with performing was the only reason Willie still existed.

“Willie.” You whimpered tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, feeling the panic in the skater’s mind.

“Susie help me.” Rudy stonily spoke ushering the distraught girl from the busy hall into an empty room.

Your shaking body finding purchase on the plush sofa with Susie holding one hand in hers and Rudy brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead. It wasn’t often your psionic abilities left you in such a state, but the distance proved difficult.

“Shit.” Rudy grumbled frowning, “This is bad. Y/N, we need to get you to Willie. You’re flickering, and the distance isn’t helping.”

“You want to take one of Elysium’s strongest ghosts straight into Caleb’s domain? You know how much he wants her in his Club.” Susie hissed to the co-founder of the haven they had to take extraordinary measures to protect, “It won’t work! You’re throwing her to the dogs!”

“Susanne I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. Besides, we always have a plan.” Rudy retorted narrowing his whiskey eyes at the younger girl, “I’ll take her to get Willie, but you need to stay here to make sure everything runs smooth.”

“Are you sure you can-“Susie cut herself off with a nod as Rudy displayed the reason he could do it, “Okay, yep, you can do it.”

Rudy came back into her vision in his signature position with one eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed. The reason why Elysium worked so well was Rudy’s ability to erase an object from the view of anyone. He could make himself invisible to anyone and in practice, developed it to hide items and location. With his ability, Elysium was permanently hidden to anyone outside of his power. Illusions were his unique ability.

“You aren’t the first person to doubt my capability.” Rudy informed the other ghost reaching one hand out. With his fingers caressing your temple, he snapped his fingers, transporting you and him away from Elysium.

The empty room of Elysium’s dining hall was exchanged for the business streets of Los Angeles, bringing an improvement in your body. Pushing away from Rudy, your eyes frantically scoured the unfamiliar area for any hint of Willie.

“He’s close.” You exclaimed closing your e/c eyes to focus solely on your sixth sense kicking in. Rudy’s gasp snapped your eyes open to see his eyes pinned on your feet where a glowing neon purple smoke wisped.

“What is that?” Rudy demanded crouching to touch it, but it was like nothing was there. His whiskey brown eyes meeting your confused gaze.

“I have no clue, but I feel like I have to follow it.” Robotically your feet started walking following the smoke through the streets.

Rudy was silent as you came upon a park swallowed by the darkness of the night with the moon barely showing through the clouds. The odd purple smoke the only offering of light so far from the path with street lights.

“Of course we have to go through a park.” Rudy grumbled, “Nothing good ever happens in wooded areas at night.”

Lifting your eyes from the smoke, you looked at a deeply unsettled Rudy lost in the past only he knew. His mind recalling traipsing through the forest with his asthmatic best friend in the middle of the night. The last night before the unknown took over his life. Oddly enough dying and returning as a ghost was the most normal with everything that happened with his friends alive.

“You can go ba-“

“We’re not splitting up,” Rudy growled plainly scowling at your hesitant features. Rudy’s slammed the door closed on his past life.

Sensing unease Rudy’s calloused hand reached over to slide into yours in platonic support. You continued your mission, unaware that three certain ghosts in breathtaking suits were searching for you. 

Alex, Reggie, and Luke, affected by the purple jolts, failed to find the one place where their plan B could work. What Julie hadn’t known was that the guys had a plan just in case the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business. The three would go to Elysium to accept their fate and ensure Julie believed they crossed over.

With no Elysium in sight, the boys returned to the Molina garage hoping that one thing would go their way: Julie would go straight to bed.

The glow purple smoke trailed through the city park into an older part of Los Angeles before it stopped. Where the smoke stopped was a vast empty space surrounded by trees.

“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” You grumbled crossing your arms, “Willie’s somewhere here. Do you think Caleb has an underground lair?”

Rudy cast an unamused expression at you, “From past experience. No, that’s not likely. He probably has an apartment downtown. An underground network of caves in the woods is more shapeshifter style but still not true.”

“One: You’re rambling. Two: What the hell kind of life did you have?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows at his rather odd piece of information.

“An old one.” Rudy spoke, staring ahead, “Besides, I think we should check out whatever building is hidden from our sight.”

“Hid-“Your mouth halted when Rudy roughly gripped your shoulders to twist you to face the empty space.

“Close your eyes. Trust your senses.” Rudy spoke softly, “Or pay attention to the slab of concrete in the middle of an empty space with well-kempt grass.”

Your palm slammed your forehead with a resounding thump in the night with distance lights from surrounding buildings. Rudy squeezed your shoulders as he stepped to the side once more in turn, closing his eyes.

“Walk in my mind.” Rudy stated for the first time in your friendship, allowing you to look in his mind. Your hesitance was met with another squeeze of comfort in his calloused grip.

Your tired eyes closed as your mind timidly stepped into the rather breathtaking mind of Rudy, who felt guilt the most. While Susie’s mind was like a summer day spent at a lake with brightness and gorgeous field of flowers, Rudy’s mind was different.

It was dark in Rudy’s mind but not as if evil, but as if he had been touched by the darkness and painted permanently. There’s was the odd whisper of childlike laughter intermingled with the full adult laugh of a woman; the laughter overshadowed with the sound of funeral music. You felt the lose near that memory. Rudy’s mind was painful to be in and drowning in the feelings he had.

Your breath caught seeing a door you assumed was of his childhood room with a name you couldn’t pronounce for the life of you.

“My parents named me after my mom’s dad.” Rudy spoke through his mind with a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t say it, so I called myself Mischief. I stopped using it when my mom died, and I went by a shortened version of my last name.”

Your eyes watched as the door disappeared, and the reason you were in his mind came back to the forefront. Your eyes watched the image forming of a vintage hotel rippling in the air before it solidified. The size reminded you of a castle, and it felt like you were storming it.

Without any more mental interaction, you stepped out of Rudy’s mind back into the real world. The very same hotel in plain sight to both Rudy and your surprised elation.

 “Honestly didn’t think that would work.” Rudy breathlessly laughed, staring at the hotel once hidden to them. A dark comparison to Elysium.

“How do we play this, Rudy?” You inquired looking over at him, “This is very different from stealing cars and scaring teens.”

“Easy. We blend in.” Rudy responded, holding one hand out to grasp yours in which you noticed your attire had changed, “Perks of illusion? I can alter our own perception of ourselves.”

“Oh, wow. That looks expensive.” You replied, staring at the diamond bracelet on your wrist matching the necklace you wore.

Rudy’s attire had changed from his normal button-up with the sleeves rolled to be layered under a charcoal grey vest and jacket. Sleek matching pants to his coat and the dark black-tie matching the elegant black dress you wore. He had taken pity on your footwear to fit your ability to walk and for the fancy place.

He even had diamond cufflinks that matched you, but the wedding rings on your fingers took you aback. Your widened eyes staring at him.

“Tonight we’re Mr and Mrs Martin,” Rudy spoke choking on the last name he gave as it was the upscale name toppled from his lips.

“Okay. This is a test of our abilities.”

“This is if our plan A of being invisible doesn’t work. The one thing we know for sure is that Caleb has never seen either one of us.” Rudy soothed your nerves with a half-smile,” Let’s get Willie out.”

Your arm slipped into the crook of his to walk to the front door, “I feel like a spy. I feel like that Naomi Roma-“

“It’s Natasha Romanoff. Have you ever seen one of the marvel movies?” Rudy demanded walking up the entrance with a pained smile, “You’re like my best friend and when he wouldn’t watch Star Wars! Never caught one of my references!”

“Okay! Sorry, we can watch the movies when this over.” You grumbled as your heels clicked in the foyer of the hotel. The inside made you feel like you were sent back in time to the roaring ’20s.

“Oh damn, this is nice,” Rudy whispered, staring at the chandelier in the extravagant lobby of the last place you wanted to be.

While on the outside the two ghosts appeared cool, calm and collected they were anything but. Both a wreck inside from the perilous errand they had done that could very well be the ending of Elysium. Rudy nudged you to begin finding Willie with your mind, but you didn’t need to.

That same glowing mist was on the ground pulling you in the direction of a dark hall away from the route to the Club. Rudy kept his eye out, a characteristic carried into the afterlife from his time with the FBI, as you followed the mist. The hall continued to get more and more dark as the walk continued.

 Finally at the end was a blood-red door.

 “I swear to god if he kills his Club members, I’ll lose it.” You hissed to your arm candy, “What if he’s really H. H. Holmes disguised as a former magician? His door is blood red!”

“Have you been using your serial killer colouring book again?” Rudy demanded stuttering his steps to place his whiskey brown eyes on you. The sheepish expression on your face was enough of a response to gain the look of disbelief could have sent you into hysterics had the time not been too serious.

With a grin belying the situation, you twisted your wrist to open the door to hopefully where Willie was being held.

“What a cliché. He’s keeping Willie in the basement?”

“Will you shut up!” Rudy hissed right back with a clenched jaw entering the somewhat unfinished basement. It was cold even to your dead standards where the cold didn’t bother that much.

At the bottom in front of a desk with only a small lamp as illumination sat a vacant-eyed Willie painstakingly detailing a fabric. The lush purple velvet fabric was bougie, to say the least, and rather outlandish for the skater.

“Willie.” You softly coaxed the teen to glance up from the fabric you found to be something Caleb would wear. Willie’s brown eyes barely met yours before they returned to the sewing needle in his hand and the tiny beads in the bowl.

“Caleb is actually forcing him to be his personal seamstress?” Rudy scoffed,d stepping right up by your side to look at the work.

Both trying unsuccessfully to coaxed Willie out of the stupor he was engaged in the sudden poofing wasn’t heard.

“Mrs. Young taught both Willie and Kayla how to sew. She’s quite the seamstress, reminds me of my old one.” Caleb wistfully responded with a smarmy smile on his face, “Well if it isn’t little Y/N and whoever she brought. Nice threads.”

“Let him go.”

Caleb’s index finger caressed the corner of his mouth so gently to ensure the stage makeup didn’t budge. His clear ocean blue eyes turning thunderstorm navy as his lips parted in such a bone-chilling sinister grin.

“Let him go? He tried to take my new house band from me. He thinks that those boys not crossing over is his punishment. I think that adorable but so very wrong.” Caleb shrugged, dragging his finger down the bicep of his puppet.

“What can we do to- “

“You see after he’s done fixing the tuxedo jacket I’m going to tie him up on the table and slowly strip away his soul piece by piece. No, Willie won’t get the quick and easy zap erasing him. I’ll personally see it’s the most painful thing he experiences and I’ll do so happily.”

“Willie! Wake up!” Rudy shouted, shaking the skater’s shoulder frantically with his focus never entirely leaving the mad man. The whiskey brown eyes panicking at the odd displaced feeling of reliving his living life.

“That won’t work.” Caleb chuckled crossing his arms, “It’s rather amusing you think you can beat me. I’m Caleb Covington! I’m persuasive enough for hundred of memberships to financially benefit the Club.”

“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N bitch.” You snarled viciously throwing your mind into the nefarious narcissistic mind of the washed-up magician. 

Caleb Convington had started to bore his audience with the same tricks at every previous show. The lack of interest depleting the attendance numbers and severely hurting the financials. So Caleb decided to broaden his talent by copying the likes of Harry Houdini.

He had a knack for both the dramatics and swindling his audience to be tricked by the illusions he created. The heightened popularity increased Caleb’s thirst for status and fame, so he overestimated himself.

Surrounded by adoring fans and journalists, Caleb had his assistant lock him in a safe with no key, to the audience’s knowledge, and push the safe into the river. Unfortunately from the infamous magician and escape artist the safe warped due to the material it as made out of. Caleb Covington died drowning in a safe at the bottom of the river.

You flinched feeling the emotion at the time Caleb had died and the feeling of disappointment at not leaving a legacy. Your continued your trek in the struggling mind of a man who viewed himself as invincible. You caught glimpses of a young Caleb with his family and the moments of tragedy that shaped him.

You saw his first taste of power in death and the content since the first time he erased a ghost from existence. It sickened you more as you reached the point where Willie came into Caleb’s path.

I’m unique, Caleb. Unlike you with the illusions and empty promises, I have real power that you could only dream of. Hearing your thoughts and planting my own words is just the tip of the iceberg.

Caleb screamed in response holding his aching head as you cruelly ripped every memory of Willie from his mind. The screams echoed not only in the basement but through the hotel the Club worked out of.

“Stop!” Caleb pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. The anguish was un-fazing to both the lucid people in the room. Rudy too busy trying to wake your best friend from the trance he had been placed in.

“I can alter memories. Remove them and even plant memories of my own design. You may take from people, but I give to people. I refused to give you anything.” You circled the man seeing double from outside and inside his mind.

I’m everything you wish you could be.

Your last action in his mind was searing a burn that flashed across his entire body from a nerve stroked. With the heat equivalent to magma in his veins, you burrowed to where Caleb controlled the souls. With a smear of your fingers, Willie’s soul was released from Caleb clutches.

“C’mon. Get Willie.” You told Rudy sending Caleb into an empty trance as if he was no more than a wax figure. Rudy eased the skater up from the desk while you exchanged Caleb to sit on the chair holding the needle, “We need to leave. I’ll get rid of any speck of Willie in memories.”

“I didn’t even get to punch the guy.” Rudy pouted, dragging his feet up the stairs away from the magician.

“That’s a good thing. I’m sure Caleb would be more pissed about his nose being damaged than losing Willie.” You scoffed helping the man urge Willie to walk up the stairs and then down the hallway to the entrance.

As you walked you brushed the minds of every individual in the building, all members in attendance, you gently removed all traces of Willie. By the time you reached the edge of the park, you had relaxed.

“We should get him to Alex, they didn’t crossover. I can still feel their imprint.”

“He’d be safer at Elysium to lay low.” Rudy replied, keeping on eye on the skater and on anyone he could see.

With only a nod, you ushered the ghost to teleport both the skater and himself back to the safe walls of Elysium. As he did so, you reached out with your mind to the blonde-haired sweet male in adoration with your best friend.

Clicking his place was easy enough for your draining power after the taxing bond with Willie’s absent presence. Instead of walking as you would generally choose you poofed on the cement pad in the backyard of a home. The surrounding skirt of the backyard encased with plants and flowers.

“Hello?” You called out in the darkness. The soft, mumbled words had your feet moving in the direction.

Standing in a circle mesmerized at the purple tattoos lifting off their skin was the boys of Julie and the Phantoms. The teenage beautiful Puerto Rican girl stood across from Luke with Reggie and Alex on each side.

“Alex?” You called out to the boy wearing a baby pink vintage tuxedo that complimented his skin and hair exquisitely. The outfit definitely screamed that Caleb had something to do with it, especially with the missing fanny pack.

“Y/N?” Luke gasped turning to see you in incredibly fancy attire matching his gorgeous blue suit modified to having no sleeves. The anticipation of eating at you to find Reggie rocking a red suit with butterflies on the fabric.

“I’m sorry you didn’t crossover.” Your words soothed the sad teenagers that had accepted their fate only to have no control again. An introduction was brought between you and Julie when the living girl elbowed Alex.

“Not that we mind but what are you doing here? How did you get here, and why are you dressed up?” Luke inquired, pushing his hands into his suit pockets, engrossed with your gorgeous appearance.

“Well when you crash a fancy Club with a narcissistic founder…any means to blend in is necessary.” You responded, “As for your second question.”

Your finger tapped your temple before continuing to speak, “I’m here because Alex deserves to know. You all do.”

The boy in baby pink frantically stepped forward, “What happened?”

“Maybe it’s best, I just show you?” Your brows furrowed to your own question accompanied by your lower lip being bitten by your teeth. The red lipstick not budging as it was an illusion as well.

“Hu-“Reggie grunted as he spiralled with his two dead bandmates into the scene that had sent you on your determined mission.

The rough action of being drawn into your memories as jarring as the first time and just as scary. The maniacal magician pacing the dark basement simply to heighten his dramatic speech. Alex’s heart clenched at the vacant look in the skater’s eyes with the faintest tinge of purple in the gorgeous brown.

“I feel like I got carsick.” Reggie moaned leaning over to clutch his midsection once you released the ghostly trio. Reggie would often gain a look of disbelief and horror from the blonde drummer, but his entire brain was centred on Willie.

“Rudy took Willie back to Elysium where he’ll be safe. If you want, you can join us.” The words were offered to both the dead and living currently in the room.

Opting out, Julie retired to her bedroom to calm down from the rush of performing at the Orpheum of all places. Besides she felt like going to Elysium was best for the three boys, and maybe they would move there. Julie would miss them, but she knew they’d always come back.

Susie was quick to hug you tightly as you stepped through the gates with the dead members of Julie’s band. The boys changed out of the tuxedos they had dropped off at a donation centre, Reggie had wanted to burn them. After living on the streets for a short while, Luke understood the need for clothing, so the clothing was taken to shelters.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Rudy told me you overexerted yourself again.” Susie spoke with a deeply furrowed brow oblivious to the puppy dog look from the bassist in red flannel.

“If I didn’t, Willie would be gone.”

“You’re pale yet flushed cheeks. I can see you have a fever. You need to rest.”

“I need to soothe Willie out of the trance that psychotic prick put him in.” You scoffed shaking Susie’s hand off your shoulder to sidestep her, “I’ll rest when he’s fine.”

“I-“

“At least gab something from the cafeteria for energy.” Susie’s brown eyes dimmed at your typical brush off. The same routine of overusing your powers and not recharging correctly, “He’s in Cottage A!”

The boys were on your heels as you power-walked through the streets of the ghost city with one location in mind. The living streets with homes of all style and colours appeared passed the bakery, the school and the clothing stores.

“You can eat?” Reggie whispered as a little ghost girl licked an ice cream cone walked by.

“Harvey adored cooking for people when he living, so he continued in death. Harvey can make food for ghosts, and so can his staff if they work in his kitchen. His pastry chef provides baked goods to Flora’s Bakery and makes the best ice cream.”

 “Oh my god.” Reggie practically squealed wholly flabbergasted by the almost perfect place you created, “How do you pay for things?”

“We don’t. What Harvey doesn’t grow in his garden, he can make ingredients out of thin air. We all have some kind of job we do. Everyone has a role in fulfilling to keep Elysium running.” You simply spoke keeping your eyes on the cottage with the robin’s egg blue door.

As if he knew Rudy flung the door open elated to see you standing there. Both of you still wearing the illusioned attire. IN milliseconds he wiped the illusion away, returning you back into your street clothes.

“How is he?”

“No change.” Rudy replied, following your steps in the living room. The skater was staring blankly at the wall.

“Willie!” Alex cried, rushing over to kneel beside the boy that had so swiftly stolen his heart without him realizing. The emotion in his word didn’t get a microscopic flinch from the formerly so-called enemy.

“Everyone be quiet.” You demanded forcibly staring each person in the room down for a mere second. With the desired silence continued, you ignored the headache forming in your head to step into the skater’s mind.

William Young was screaming to be released by the prison of his own mind Caleb had forced him into. He had felt the restriction on his soul lifted and the mist of purple leaving his brain, but he was still stuck.

He could barely breathe with the weight on his chest. Willie didn’t like feeling stuck in one place as he was a wanderer at heart. It was a reason why he had joined the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of travel.

Willie come back

In his mind, the sound of your voice firstly grounded the young man as a mirage of your form flickered. Your eyes screamed worry while the smile was one of relief.

Caleb can’t hurt you anymore. Come home.

The spectators watching see your flinching wavering expression and the tensing of Willie’s facial muscles. Everyone sat on the edge of their seat as the two pairs eyes opened in synch of the yells of hurt.

What they didn’t expect was your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and you to collapse onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Willie cried, stumbling off the couch onto the cold floor where your body lay prone, “Wake up!”

It seemed everyone forgot the little detail of being dead.

 “She’s fine.” Rudy remarked, shaking your arm with such gentle care matching the four guys’ care in the room.

Your eyelids fluttered open under the bright lights of the unused cottage still waiting for an owner.

“Susie was right.” You grumbled allowing Willie to help you sit up against the blue velvet couch. Your mussed hair adorable in the eyes of the guitarist utterly enamoured with everything about you.

“She usually is.” Rudy mused, thinking of the many times she had proven everyone wrong, “She punched me for not bringing you home.”

“Gotta love her.” You snorted turning to face the four ghosts awkwardly gazing around the room. It was barren of personality with the lack of inhabitants. The yearning quickly found in the boys’ eyes, “You know this isn’t the only cottage in need of people.”

“What do-“

“You’re welcome to live here. I know you three live in that studio, but here you can have a real bed. You can eat and having your own place. You can come and go as you please.” You offered without looking, Rudy.

“I don’-“

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s okay, but the option is always there. Willie, we make plans for a skatepark-“

“Oh, you had me from the start.” Willie beamed tugging you into his arms, “I missed this. I missed you.”

 “Me too.” You murmured into his warm embrace equally relaxed at knowing he was safe again. Your eyes clashing with the soft blue had Ideas songwriting already filled with lyrics of a pretty girl wearing a jean jacket with patches.

The lyrics turned into songs both in the studio and the cottage that Luke, Reggie and Alex accepted in Elysium. It had been a spirited discussion with Julie on moving to Elysium, but the boys were always there when she wasn’t in school. Often Elysium hosted a concert for the residents with the visitation of Julie.

Your reciprocated attraction with the messy-haired hazel-eyed guitarist flourished into a serious relationship. Luke took on the role of teaching how to play the guitar and songwriting. Alex took of mediation while Reggie worked with Harvey.

Willie quickly took on designing the skatepark he taught at while also taking a position at the ghost school.

“Morning.” The soft whisper roused your sleep into the golden glow of the morning light and chirping birds.

The growling aspect of his voice coming from only just waking up. The sight of Luke’s bleary eyes was heartwarming.

 A year into moving into Elysium, Luke had asked if you’d like to move in as he was the only one in the original house. Alex had moved into the little cottage with Willie three months into the relationship while Reggie was going back and forth between Susie’s room and his own place.

“Morning.” You hummed leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“You know I thought my life ended when I died. That I could never find someone and have a family. That I couldn’t share my music with the world. I was wrong.” Luke murmured as he cupped your cheek in his hand, “The band is growing more and more each day. I found the love of my life, and we have a family with everyone. I haven’t felt like I had had home for so long, but I get it now. You’re my home. I love you.”

Your cheeks warmed up at the adoration Luke displayed in his expressive hazel green gaze just as it had since day one. The awe fell from his lips before you pressed a kiss to his lips, only one of the many in the eons to come.

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[lalainajanes]

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”  

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * * 

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

 Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

 She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

 Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

 Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

[samsoleil]

you can now read the homeschooled au on ao3! or you can keep reading here. in this installment, the boys go to a mall for the first time and have an Experience™

(cw for sensory overload, if that's something that doesn't quite butter your bread roll)

One day, Sam realised that their dad was just a person.

He can’t remember the conversation, if it could be called that, in its entirety. But what he does remember with a surreal vividness is seeing Dad’s face, cold and hard with rage and frustration, and thinking, I don’t understand. Real life doesn’t have those scenes where the camera cuts to the perfect moment to explain the characters’ motivations. Dad had a whole life before Sam and lives most of his existence separate from Sam, with his own ideas and interpretations and some sort of equation that added one dead wife and two kids and came up with the mess that’s been Sam’s life so far. This experience of the world, a mark of being human.

And that thought was like a spotlight had been shone on Sam’s little corner of the world, this glaring thing, an unavoidable truth. It isn’t always there but, when it is, it’s inescapable. If Sam’s honest, it’s fuelled the fire in more than one of his arguments with their dad. Sam wonders if this is how Eve felt after biting into the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, cursed with a realisation that can’t ever be unlearned.

But Dean’s different. Dean’s life isn’t this impossible, untouchable thing like Dad’s is; it’s Sam’s life, too, this thing they share, and Dean lives life more than anyone else Sam's met. Admittedly, Sam can name the amount of people he's actually met, beyond the handful of cashiers he's made uncomfortable eye contact with, on one hand. But he can't imagine that anyone who's ever spoken to Dean has left the conversation thinking, Well, he doesn't experience life as much as I do.

That’s not the point. The point is, Sam’s become accustomed to the concept that people in the real world have thoughts and feelings and lives that Sam will never know. But he and Dean had wanted to try going to a mall for lunch, instead of their usual cafés, and Sam had no idea that you could find this many people in a single place.

"Wow," he says, standing with Dean in the doorway.

There really are just so many of them. Parents with their kids, old couples, gaggles of teenagers laughing and shouting. Sam sees a group of girls around Dean's age in bright colours, hair falling in a sheet around their shoulders. He sees two young parents with their baby, jostling them up and down as they wail, drawing dirty looks from a couple of older women chatting over coffee. Everything is fluorescent bulbs and colour and sound. It's wonderful. It's horrible. There are so many of them and Sam has no idea who any of them are. It’s the Tree of Knowledge again, if biting into fruit was comparable to plummeting off a cliff, and he doesn't think he’d be able to handle feeling like this all the time. It's almost too much, to think that everyone here is just as alive as Sam and Dean.

Sam reaches out slightly to tangle his fingers between Dean's. Dean's hand relaxes easily, less soft and larger than Sam's, and grips him reassuringly after Sam's fingers are threaded with his. He feels better, after that. He watches the small family as the baby suddenly stops crying, their mother pressing a pacifier into their mouth and receiving a gummy smile. Genetically, a person's DNA is half their mother and half their father. Sam has a matching theory about himself as a whole. Half of Sam is characters from books, TV shows, movies, and half of Sam is Dean.

He follows after Dean as they move out of the doorway, away from Sam's sudden movie moment, and they melt into the crowd. It's even worse once they get in there, and Sam keeps overhearing snippets of conversation, fragments of this bustling chaos of lives.

"-working Friday, and I don't know if-"

There's a girl with an ear full of piercings, silver and solid, wearing all black with ripped jeans and a leather jacket-

"-assignment? I haven't-"

-and the sun streaming in through one of the windows flashes off the glass of one of the stores, momentarily turning Sam's vision white, and it's enough to make his eyes sting-

"-Sarah, Katy, wai-"

-while the air is filled with the scent of a hundred different foods, sweet as spun sugar one second and then the smoky thickness of meat, and Sam's head turns to follow the smell of flowers carried by the curls of a dark-skinned man in jeans-

"-long black, two sugars. Do you ha-"

-who greets an older woman with greying hair, and Sam turns back to face the direction they're heading and sees a crowd of people too thick to move through.

"-believe, I mean, it was so-"

He squeezes Dean's hand. Dean squeezes back. Sam squeezes again, and they have a back and forth for a minute or so as they wait for a space to open up in the crowd ahead of them. Sam knows what the person at the counter is ordering and what the people at the table behind them did for their weekend and what Donnie did to Amy, did you hear?

I heard, Sam thinks viciously, Everyone in a ten mile radius heard, can you shut up?

And then he feels bad, because it's not their fault it's so loud in here. He can barely hear himself think. He can't even hear himself breathe, can just feel his lungs inhaling and exhaling in his chest. The functional unit of the lungs are small sacs called alveoli that have walls one cell thin, and the culmination of Sam's can usually run a five minute mile but today, now, they're barely keeping him standing.

"-diagnosis, it all happened so fast-"

It's been a minute since he last squeezed Dean's hand, so he squeezes again. And Dean squeezes back, hard, and that seems to help the frantic energy building in Sam's body, so when Dean starts to relax his hand Sam squeezes again and he doesn't let go.

"-don't know what I'd do-"

And Dean looks back, and something must show in Sam's face, because then they're moving, the crowd be damned. Someone brushes against Sam and he feels every part of it, too aware of the fabric of their shirt brushing against Sam's flannel. Someone else steps on the side of his shoe and he wants to step on them back, wants them to finish the job, wants to break out of his body. Dean's squeezing Sam's hand hard enough that he feels the bones in his hand shift, but it's all he has, right now. The rest of him is too busy paying attention to everything else.

"-rotten leaf in my salad, I want-"

There's a group of children laughing and stumbling over their feet, their mothers following behind with gentle smiles and chattering conversation, and Sam feels this tug of want-

"-failed my midterms, so I just-"

-and there's someone in a bright, multicoloured jacket holding hands with a girl dressed in all denim, laughing as they reach up to gently grasp her chin and lean in-

"-loud in here, do you want-"

-so Sam looks away, and no matter where he looks there's another person, another family, another store, another thing bright and beautiful and he can't take it, okay, it's just too much-

"-I said, that's crazy, no way-"

-for him to handle right now, the everything of it all, the thought that, all this time, the entire world has existed just outside of their motel room and he's barely a part of it.

"-beautiful, Mary-"

Sam's heart jolts in his chest.

I can't do this, he thinks desperately, still moving with Dean, pulled along by him, his hand encompassed by Dean's. He tamps down the visceral urge to just lie down here, press himself into the tile and be consumed. He sidesteps a puddle of someone's chocolate thickshake, his stomach turning over. He can feel the slick of his sweat between Dean's large, warm hand and his own. Part of him wants to tug away to dry his palm on his jeans, but he feels like he might fall apart if he does.

Dean leads him into a store and the temperature change shocks him, sending shivers cascading down his spine, and Sam feels suddenly unwell, like when he has the flu. But it's quieter in here, the cacophony of the mall muted by the racks of clothing. The fluorescents take all the red away, leaving Dean wearing an ugly brown flannel, and that sick feeling grows stronger. Sam closes his eyes, letting Dean guide him. He flinches at the clatter as Dean pulls something off the rack, the hanger tapping plastic against metal railing, and lets himself be swept along, around a corner and into a changing room, Dean pulling the curtains closed.

Sam bypasses the bench to sit down on the floor, gaze fixed on where the curtain brushes against the faux wood linoleum. He can still hear the chatter in the store, muffled as if underwater.

Dean crouches down in front of him, breaking his line of sight, but Sam can't move. He can't stay still. He's going to fall apart. He's going to turn to stone. He wants to run, run, out through the mall and back home, he wants to crawl into Dean's chest and stay there forever and never go outside again. Fuck outside. Outside is overrated. Outside is filled with people who couldn't give less of a shit about Sam, going about their days while he falls apart in the middle of a food court. Outside is filled with people who aren't Sam and Dean, living TV lives while they spin out on some highway in Nowhere, America.

"Sammy?" Dean says, and it's so loud, what the hell, Dean.

Sam untangles himself from his little ball of limbs to silently shoosh him, and he watches as the tense line of Dean's shoulders relax infinitesimally from where they were hitched up around his ears, all worry. Dean bats his hands away gently, fine, fine, he'll be quiet.

What happened? asks the moue of Dean's mouth, the furrow between his brows.

Sam shrugs.

That's not an answer.

And Sam knows it's not, but how is he meant to explain it when even he doesn't know what happened? It was just everything, all at once, and it crept under Sam's skin and into his head and he couldn't escape it. He looks up at Dean, helpless, and Dean's hands come up to cradle his face and it's alright. It'll be okay. Sam tips his head into the warmth of Dean's skin, lets his eyes fall closed.

Someone laughs from in the store and Sam flinches, then feels Dean's hands move to cover his ears instead. Sam sighs and leans into Dean's chest. He expects to hate it, being touched, worries that he'll want to shed his skin in a heap at the feeling of it, but it's Dean. Sam presses his forehead into Dean's ribs firm enough to bruise, and Dean pulls him along as he reshuffles on the floor so that Sam is between his legs, wrapped in warmth, anchored to the world. He moves his hands away from Sam's ears and Sam, with a bitter-sick feeling of betrayal, clamps his own over them, pressing hard. But Dean puts his hands on Sam's back instead, rubbing soothingly, and that's better than anything else.

A few moments pass, quietly, just the two of them. Sam’s still stuck in his head, which is tuned into the world like a radio turned up too high, but he does his best to focus on the smooth movements of Dean’s hands up and down his back, fingers running over the knobs of his spine. They’re called spinous processes, and they lengthen throughout the cervical spine but are mostly the same size in the thoracic spine. Sam checked. Dean kicked up only a little bit of a fuss. And when Sam realises that he’s playing that memory in his head, eyelids heavy, he notices that he’s feeling a little better.

As if reading his mind, Dean moves his hands to rest on Sam’s arms, and Sam settles back. He takes his hands away from his ears, blinking hard. His chest feels a bit tight, but he’s okay. He conveys as much to Dean, who looks over him, expression doubtful. But when he sees Sam watching his face he plasters on a grin, rubbing Sam’s arms quickly through his shirt before he moves back, too.

Dean signs for Baby. They don’t have to stay.

Part of Sam wants to leave, but it feels like giving up. And he wants to try the mall, was excited until he became overwhelmed and, if he tries, he can make the adrenaline feel more like anticipation.

“I want to stay." He accompanies the words with their signs. “Can we get pizza?”

Dean kept bringing it up in the car, subtle as a truck, and Sam saw some slices of a vegetarian pizza through the glass of one of the counters. It’s an easy choice to make. Sam doesn’t really feel like pizza, but he knows that Dean will try to cheer him up the same way he cheers himself up. And it works, for the most part. Dean just hasn’t quite realised that the main reason why is because Sam likes seeing Dean happy.

And, fine. Sam knows Dean needs him to be happy, too, and maybe that plays a bigger part in it all than Sam would care to admit. He knows that if he asked to leave, they would be as good as gone. It's enough to make him feel lightheaded, sometimes, the things that Dean would do for him. And it's not even because he has to. He chose Sam, over their dad, over hunting, over the chance to be free from Sam's drama forever. So they'll stay, and they'll get pizza, and they'll buy jackets and underwear and Dean's paraphernalia, and then they'll be gone. Sam just needs to hold on for a few more hours.

Dean beams and Sam feels his cheeks flush in response. Dean's so, so proud of him. He circles Sam's heart through his shirt and Sam feels something bright and beautiful settle in him. It’s contagious.

"That's my boy," Dean says, ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam pushes him away gently, reaching up to fix his hair, and Dean rocks back, still wearing that easy smile. Sam has to look away, eyes settling on the amulet sitting on Dean's chest and shining dully in the crappy change room lighting. Sam doesn't know how he does it. Sam knows better than anyone that life isn't always sunshine and roses but, even with Sam losing his grip over and over, Dean's still here. Maybe it's selfish, but Sam can't help but be desperately grateful. He wouldn't trade where they are now for anything. They're alive now in a way they weren't before, and Dean seems to be genuinely enjoying it. Sam wants to love existing that much.

Dean stands and offers him his hand.

One day, maybe I will, Sam thinks, and he reaches out.

[evakuality]

There’s something not quite right about Matteo this evening; his eyes are shuttered and his face set in a way that’s unnatural.  Or at least in a way that hasn’t been natural for Matteo in so many months that David can’t even count.  When he raises a questioning eyebrow, though, Matteo just shrugs and drags the most unconvincing smile onto his face.  Seeing the way Matteo tries to force cheer sends small flickers of unease licking at David’s heels.  His heart squeezes, cold fear sneaking its way into his chest.  It’s stupid and he knows it’s stupid, but there’s still a small part of David that feels unloved and unloveable.  That part assumes the worst, that this is because of something he’s done.

The worst of it is that David can’t do what he usually does to get through to Matteo.  He can’t wrap him up in some sort of embrace and hold him until he’s ready to say something about whatever it is.  Around them, their friends are bubbly and chatty, overflowing with joy and laughter.  The tree in one corner is bright with sparkling lights, the candles on the wreath glimmer, and the rest of the space is filled with a dimmed glow from two lamps at the side of the room, allowing the strings of coloured lights placed high up along the walls - in a haphazard attempt at straight lines - to glitter and cast their colours onto the walls behind them.  Alcohol is flowing freely, and their guests all seem to be enjoying themselves.  It’s a party, long planned by an excitable Matteo and David in this their first home together, and as host David feels he has some responsibilities to their guests.  

Dragging his eyes away from Matteo, who has settled onto a couch near Jonas and Hanna, and looks like he’s taking at least some part in the conversation, David pulls on his own almost-certainly unconvincing smile and turns to the people nearest to him.  He keeps an eye on Matteo over the rest of the evening, drifting close every now and then to check on him.  Matteo always responds willingly enough, reaching out a hand to grasp David’s fingers as he passes, or leaning into a kiss pressed to his forehead or cheek.  

It quickly becomes clear that despite David’s brief anxiety that this is something he’s done, that Matteo is gaining some sort of strength from these small connections with David.  His smile always tips up into something more natural in the aftermath of each one.  But his mood doesn’t improve over time.  Indeed, he seems to settle further into some sort of melancholy.  He valiantly plays host, smiling at everyone, making small talk and refilling snacks.  But David can see the toll it’s taking on him, the weariness in his face, the way his smile slips when he thinks no-one is looking.  The slump of his shoulders as things clearly get too much.

David frowns as he makes his way into the kitchen with a small handful of empty bottles.  He’s finished tipping out the dregs and is just opening the fridge to see if there are more he can bring out to replenish the coolers they have scattered around the room, when he hears a slight cough from behind him.  He jumps, on edge from the worry he’s been feeling about Matteo, and the bottles rattle in the fridge’s door as it slips from his fingers and clatters closed as he turns to take in whoever has entered.

Face pale and eyes hooded, Matteo stands there.  He moves closer to David, who opens his arms in invitation.  Matteo falls into them, his breath huffing out against David’s neck as he wraps his arms around David’s waist and mutters something too low to hear clearly.  David lets his fingers tangle in Matteo’s hair, running soothing circles the way he knows his boyfriend likes, and slowly Matteo’s body relaxes, and the tight grip he’s had on David’s shirt loosens.

“You want to talk about it?” David offers.  He expects Matteo to step back and refuse because that’s what he usually does.  When there are other people, Matteo’s not usually keen to let out things that might shatter his peace.

Instead, Matteo’s breath stutters briefly and he nods against David’s neck.  “Yeah,” he breathes.  “But not here.”  He pulls back and indicates the kitchen with another nod.

“Okay,” David agrees, trying not to let his relief show that Matteo is willing to let him in to whatever is bothering him.  He’s glad they can talk now, and he knows they need to be alone for this, but he’s also aware they can’t really leave everyone here without them.  So he compromises, with a small laugh at the irony of what he’s about to say. “Balcony?” he suggests.

Matteo laughs, a small mirthless acknowledgement of the shared joke.  They’d chosen this place out of numerous others they’d seen just because it has a balcony that reminds Matteo of the one he’d had at the flatshare.  David teases him about the much better bathroom facilities they could have had in their second choice, but Matteo always remains adamant.  The balcony is worth it.

“Balcony,” Matteo agrees.  

Matteo makes his way through their bedroom to the doorway out to the balcony while David pauses briefly in the main room to let Laura and Jonas know where they are if they’re needed.  By the time he gets through and slips outside, closing the doors behind him to keep the heat inside the small apartment, Matteo has settled onto the small couch they’ve squeezed into the space.  His legs are propped up on the table in front of him and he’s looking pensively out over the city lying sparkling in front of them.

He looks up as David sits down next to him, grabs the cosy blanket they have so they can sit here on cooler nights like this one and spreads it over both of them.  His eyes are smudged with fatigue and dark circles bruise the skin under them.  

David sits there in silence, listening to the muffled sounds of the city below them, waiting for Matteo to speak.  Glancing sideways, David watches as he plucks anxiously at a long thread that’s sneaking out of the edge of the blanket.  It’s a long minute before he quietly says, “saw my dad today.”

“Oh.”

That makes sense of everything that Matteo has done since he got here this evening.  Those meetings never go well, and he always needs time and space with David or alone before he can comfortably deal with the surge of emotions that always flood to the surface,

Matteo huffs out a wryly amused laugh.  “Yeah.” he says, fingers now twining the exposed thread from the blanket roughly around each other over and over again in a steady rhythm, as if it centres him.  “It was shit.”

“Shittier than normal?”

Matteo nods, his lips pursing into a compressed line as he clearly rolls the conversation over again in his thoughts.

“He wanted to know when I was going to do something normal.”  He looks sideways, as if seeking reassurance from David, and David can see the pain in his eyes.  “He wanted to know when I was going to stop being strange and find a nice girl to marry.”  He laughs, the sound cutting right through David.  There’s nothing amused in it.  He shakes his head as if in disbelief, mockingly imitating the tone his father used when he repeats, “strange.”  

“You’re not strange,” David says, taking his hand.  “You know that, right?”

Matteo’s shoulders move in a tiny shrug.  He doesn’t answer directly, instead saying, “I keep hoping he’ll be better each time.  I’m so stupid for believing it.”

His voice is shaking with the effort of trying to act like it doesn’t really matter, trying to make the self-chastisement sound like a joke.  But David knows Matteo well enough to know it’s not a joke.

“You’re not stupid.”

“It’s just hard,” Matteo says quietly.  “It’s Christmas, you know?”  He sighs, his fingers picking up their rhythm on the thread again, twisting it back and forth.  “I always hope he’ll be better when it’s Christmas.”

“Yeah, I know,” David says.  “It never gets easier.”

He’s speaking from his own experience, and how it always stings a little when his parents don’t try to include him in any of his own holiday traditions.  Matteo nods, burrows closer.  He knows how bad it can be for David, too.  It’s because they have this shared frustration with their relationships with family that they’re each able to talk about it when they need to.

It’s silent for a long time, allowing David to reflect.  He can hear the muffled booming sound of the music Hans has chosen for the evening’s playlist, a bizarre mix of breezy Christmas songs and thumping bass lines.  Hans had insisted on being the DJ, saying that David and Matteo don’t have the right sort of music for a party.  They let him do it, since it made him happy.  Listening to the abrupt change in beats between songs, David’s not sure if they made the best decision there.

Still, the slower, easier cadence of the latest song allows him to slow his own thoughts down and take stock of what’s happening here.  David can tell, in between the things Matteo has said, just how much has been left unsaid.  He’s heard first hand some of the stinging, aggressive comments Matteo’s father can dole out, and he can imagine how bad it must have been today for it to have felt shittier than normal to Matteo.  

“I feel better now,” Matteo says as if he can hear the thought David just had.  “Being with you always helps.  It was shit before, not being able to.”

Hearing it means so much.  It’s not that long since David tried to hold himself aloof from everyone who would try to get close to him, sure that he’d been opening himself up to weakness and rejection.  Instead, what he keeps finding over and over, is that Matteo reaffirms their bond in so many ways, big and small.  

He’s tired, David can feel it in the slump of his body, but there’s a peace in him that wasn’t there before.  It feels nice knowing that he was able to help with that.  That just being here settles Matteo.  It’s in that moment that David knows.  He knows for absolute sure that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Matteo.

He turns to press a kiss into Matteo’s hair, whispering, “I love you,” as he does so.  He can feel Matteo’s muscles move as his mouth curls up into a smile when he hears the words.  It always makes Matteo smile this way when David says it, so he says it often just to catch that smile Matteo saves just for times like this.

“I love you too,” Matteo says, turning so he can look David in the eye properly for the first time since they got out here this evening.

His eyes look clearer than they did when they came out here, and the smudges under his eyes are less prominent.

“I want to ask you something,” David says impulsively, taking Matteo’s hand in his own.  He laughs at the look that chases onto Matteo’s face; it’s suspicious because they never talk like this, asking permission to say something and Matteo can tell something is different tonight.

Now it’s David’s turn to look away; the intensity in that gaze is getting too much for him and he knows he won’t retain his composure if he tries to hold Matteo’s eyes.  So he focuses on Matteo’s fingers, curled trustingly in his own.  He should have got a ring before he did this, David thinks irrelevantly.  But he’s not going to back out now.

“You know how… how closed I was before I met you.  How I wanted to run away from everyone and everything.  How much everything hurt all the time.”

“Yeah,” Matteo agrees softly.  “I recognised something in you that was the same as me.”

David nods, chances a look up at Matteo and sees the wry smile he’s giving.  These aren’t easy memories, for either of them.  But there’s something healing in remembering those times and how much they meant to each other because of it.  Matteo has always shone in David’s memory for the way he steadfastly never gave up, for the way he was willing to work with David through whatever was messing with him.  Getting to do that for each other for the rest of their lives?  Yeah, David’s ready to dive into that.

“The thing is, I get what you’re saying about your dad and how shitty that all is.  And… and my parents too.  And I know this time of year is hard for you when he’s… like he is.”

He pauses, because he can feel his emotions welling up.  It’s not perfect, the things he’s saying and the way they got here, but it works for them and it’s only now that he’s saying it that David understands how perfect it is to do this in a moment like this.  Because everything that has come behind them emphasises everything that is good about the two of them together.  And Christmas has always a time of change and reflection for Matteo; it’s why he’s always hoping his father will have changed.  So why not transition into something even better now, with David?  

“You’re my home,” David continues after refocusing, his fingers trembling where Matteo’s are sitting in them.  “And I’m yours, I think.”

“You are,” Matteo agrees.  

His voice is firm, with no trace of doubt.  David smiles.  He knows this, of course, but those small doubts still flood him sometimes so there’s always a tiny buzz of relief and delight when Matteo says it like it’s a truth, immutable and eternal.  David’s not above fishing to get Matteo to say it, and does so often, but tonight there’s a deeper purpose.

“So, your dad doesn’t matter,” David says.  “I know it feels big and shit and like you’re small.  I know that.  I’ve felt that before, hoping it might change if I just find a way to be better, but I never could.”  He stops and processes for a moment, figuring out how to say the rest of what he wants to.  “I feel like… like I had such a small family before.  It was just Laura really.  But now I have you and I don’t need anyone else.  I don’t have to be better, and neither do you.  Because you’re good the way you are - just like you told me one time.”

Matteo smiles, something small, but there’s a relaxed happiness there that David wants to bottle.  He loves being able to get through to Matteo like this.  He loves that memory and everything that surrounded it, and he knows it’s resonated with Matteo too.  He can see the way the things they’ve said have eased the tense lines of his body.

“You haven’t asked anything yet,” Matteo points out, puncturing the moment, and David laughs.  It’s such a Matteo thing to do that he can’t help himself, and he knows it means he’s had the effect he’d wanted to.  

“I’m trying to be all romantic and supportive here,” David says, shoving Matteo.  

Matteo’s eyes are lit up now, with what David thinks of as his ‘usual’ mischievous look.  Matteo shoves him back, laughing, the sound welcome after the heaviness of the evening beforehand.  He sobers quickly, though, sincerity flooding through his face as he leans into David and rests their foreheads together.

“You don’t need to try to be romantic,” Matteo says quietly.  “I feel a lot better already.”

He knows, then, what David was trying to do at the start.  But he hasn’t caught on to the rest of it, so David sucks in a breath and kisses him.  Centering himself before he blurts out something reckless and ruins what he wants to do, David lets himself watch Matteo’s face as he carries on.

“I do though,” David says.  “I said I want to ask you something.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I just wanted to say that I love you, I love all our moments even the hard ones.  And I want to have more of them for the rest of our lives.”

Matteo blinks at him, clearly taken aback.  “You want…?”

“To have more moments with you for the rest of our lives, yeah.  You’re my home,” he repeats, knowing Matteo still hasn’t quite caught up with what he’s trying to ask, “and I want to marry you.”

It finally hits Matteo and his face evens out into something wondrous.  “You do?”

Laughing, feeling light and almost drunk with relief now that he’s said it, David takes Matteo's hand again.  “I do.  It was a bit of a rushed decision so I didn’t get a ring or anything.  But it felt right to do it now, you know?”

“Me feeling miserable felt like the right time?”

But Matteo’s laughing, his face lit up, so David knows he doesn’t really mean it.  

“It did kinda.  Because it reminded me that even in these hardest times, when it feels like everything has fallen apart around us, that I still have you and you still have me.  And I wanted to seize that and keep it forever.”

“Well I’m not sure,” Matteo says, his fingers tracing a light line along David's jaw down to his lips.  Taken aback by the strange turn this has taken, David frowns.  Matteo laughs again and brushes a kiss onto the lips his fingers had just been tracing.  “You still didn’t ask me anything.”

“Ass,” David says.  On another impulse, he slides off the seat, letting the blanket fall from their laps as he drops to one knee and grins up at Matteo with one hand on his chest and one held out beseechingly to his boyfriend.  “Will you marry me?”

Matteo rolls his eyes, and drags him back up onto the seat next to him.  “Of course I will,” he says, pulling David in for a kiss to seal the moment.

Snuggled together on the seat, the sounds of the party intruding as someone flings a window open in the living room, David sighs his happiness.

“I’ve been thinking it for a while,” he admits.  “I just didn’t quite know how to do it, but sitting here with you I knew times and places weren’t important.  What was important was us being here together through thick and thin.”

“See?” Matteo murmurs as he lays his head on David’s shoulder and kisses the skin he finds there.  “The balcony was worth it.”

“It wasn’t the balcony,” David protests.  “It was me being super romantic.”  

But, he thinks as they choose to stay there together, that maybe the balcony is symbolic of their relationship after all.  It’s a small space they can carve out together in the world where other people are near and other things try to intrude.  But if they inhabit it together, wrapped up in the warmth they give each other, it does make everything all feel different.  Easier.  Worthwhile.

Below them, the city glimmers on, uncaring of everything it’s just witnessed.  But here in their bubble all that matters is the two of them.  

And that’s what makes all of this, “totally worth it,” David whispers into Matteo's hair.

Find it also here on A03 if you prefer to read there

I want to say many many thanks to @boudoir-of-secrets who cheered me on through this little thing and gave a lot of valuable feedback 💜 This was based on two prompts, but I did play with both so they’re not quite exactly what was asked for:  “ Matteos dad being a total asshole to Matteo during the Christmas time and Matteo seeks shelter by David. Because in the end just David's presence makes everything better and with David he always feels safe.” and “David proposes to Matteo during Christmas time with a cute and long speech. How he is his home, the reason he stopped running, he is his everything.”

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: “Romantic Rail Getaway” Lu Jinghe Route, Day 1

Translation Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Lu Jinghe Route: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Videos, where applicable, are hyperlinked on the headings in the post.

See under cut!

Part 1: The Rainforest’s Invitation

Circulating Trip Train Start Station

I’ve heard of something along these lines before – Tambuyani’s trip train is a thread that links together pearls.

Only with the guidance of this thread can you experience this country’s charm.

Lu Jinghe: I looked at the train route. The first station is located at Xiangya City.

Lu Jinghe: How about we wander around Xiangya City’s resort area in a moment? We shouldn’t tire ourselves out on the first day too much – might as well save some strength and have our fun slowly later.

MC: Mhmm, I saw that on the guide, it said that the resort has a massive local customs experience workshop. Do you want to experience wood carving?

Lu Jinghe: If you want to go, then I’ll accompany you.

We excitedly discussed our upcoming ride plans.

In front of the trip train’s station, other visitors were just like us, looking forward to the fantastical trip that was soon to start.

About this trip – it had started with Lu Jinghe.

--

[Flashback]

Lu Jinghe: Hey, jiejie, you’re taking a long break these days, right? Got any trip plans?

MC: Hmm… I haven’t thought about it for now. Let me sleep in first a few times, then I’ll figure it out!

Lu Jinghe: After you’ve slept enough, want to consider participating with me on the Tambuyani circulating trip train journey?

Lu Jinghe: A premium luxury high-end self-directed travel, and Pax’s CEO will personally design the trip route for you.

MC: Tambuyani? Why’d you suddenly want to go there?

This name, which I’d only seen in geography books, left me filled with surprise.

Tambuyani was a little tropical country located near the equator. Though its sceneries were magnificent, their economy was undeveloped.

No matter how you thought about it, a place as remote as this wouldn’t be Lu Jinghe’s first choice.

Lu Jinghe: For work. Pax invested in a rainforest over there and opened up an event. I’m planning to go there myself to see.

Lu Jinghe: On the way… I can take you to have fun for a few days and relieve boredom.

MC: So that’s how it was – then I’ll think about it…

Lu Jinghe: Stop considering it – might as well hurry and pack your suitcase. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to go to the airport. Hanging up now.

[Flashback end]

--

Lu Jinghe moved rapidly. On the second day, we boarded the private plain headed towards Tambuyani.

We were sent straight to the start station of the circulating trip train when we got off the plane – he’d arranged for everything neatly and tidily.

Precisely as he said, this was a trip that could let one relax, as well as look forward to greatly.

MC: Right, you said on the phone with me before… you came here for a rainforest project?

Lu Jinghe: Mhmm, Pax is preparing to build a nature reserve at Imana Rainforest and analyze the “parrot-tail fairy flower” project in the meantime.

MC: Parrot-tail fairy flower?

Lu Jinghe: When our people came to the rainforest to discuss the reserve project, they noticed a kind of rare plant with medicinal value, by chance.

MC: Hmm… it sounds like those legendary medicinal herbs that can cure illnesses and save lives?

Lu Jinghe: It might be, though I’m not too clear on the exact situation.

Lu Jinghe: When we get to Xiangya City in a moment, the person in charge of this project will pick us up. When time comes, you can ask him in detail.

MC: … There are Pax’s people in Xiangya City too?

Lu Jinghe: He came to Xiangya City on business today, so I called him over to chat. It’s perfect for getting an understanding of the project’s development – this is called “preparedness averts peril”.

The corners of Lu Jinghe’s mouth pulled up, his eyes full of smiles.

Lu Jinghe: Alright, let’s talk about this later. Let’s think first about how we’ll enjoy a happy lunchtime on the train.

Lu Jinghe: In the train’s dining room, there are Tambuyani’s characteristic culinary delicacies, and decent-tasting Western meals that you can help yourself to. What do you want to eat?

MC: Hmm…

Since we’re here, logically, we should try the delicacies of this place.

But I remembered, when I was looking up the guides, I saw those “characteristic delicacies”.

Stuff like roasted ants, stuffed cicada pupae, roasted scorpions… what if later, the stuff in the food platter brought over by the server was…

Should I challenge myself?

>Self-serve Western meal >This place’s characteristic delicacies

MC: I’ll go with the self-serve Western meal.

Lu Jinghe: Sure, I’ll go book a sumptuous self-serve feast, and we’ll be able to eat it after we get on the train.

Lu Jinghe: Although… you sure you don’t want to try Tambuyani’s characteristic delicacies?

Lu Jinghe: I’ve heard that there’s a kind of black bean orange rice that tastes delicious – it’s one of the visitors’ must-try Top Ten Characteristic Delicacies.

MC: I do want to try… but what if I run into some particularly weird ingredients… that would be tragic…

Lu Jinghe: Makes sense. We can take it slow and check out the tables of the guests who’ve ordered those delicacies.

Lu Jinghe: If there’s anything you want to eat, there’s still time to order them next time.

MC: Okay, so it’s decided!

 >Self-serve Western meal >This place’s characteristic delicacies

MC: Whew, I’ve thought it through! I’m going to eat Tambuyani’s characteristic delicacies!

MC: The guides online say that the black bean orange rice on the train is one of a kind. Those who’ve eaten it all say it’s good.

MC: Want to order one serving with me?

Lu Jinghe: I’ll lowkey let you in on a secret. Actually… I had just wanted to recommend the black bean orange rice to you; didn’t think you’d bring it up first.

Lu Jinghe: Sure enough, the two of us have tacit understanding!

Lu Jinghe smiled, his expression looking “quite proud”.

I was unable to resist teasing him once.

MC: Have you really decided? If it doesn’t taste good, then you won’t be able to regret it.

Lu Jinghe: Have some trust in yourself – believe that our choice will definitely be right!

Lu Jinghe smiled, his eyebrows curving. Looking at his eyes, it seemed like I could smell the sweet scent of the orange rice.

MC: I already can’t wait to try it.

--

“Toot…” accompanying the sound the whistle’s long toot, the circulating trip train entered the station gradually.

Lu Jinghe stood up, dragging his and my two large suitcases, and winked at me.

Lu Jinghe: Let’s go – our rainforest trip is about to start.

MC: Mhmm, coming!

 Part 2: Vacation Entertainment Area – “First Time Hearing about the Rainforest Project”

After the circulating trip train arrived at Xiangya City, I followed Lu Jinghe to tour around Xiangya City’s vacation resort area.

We’d just arrived near the vacation entertainment area when we saw a young person far from us, wearing traditional Tambuyani clothing, waving at us.

???: Hello, CEO Lu and Lawyer MC. You two finally came as expected. Was the trip here smooth?

The young man greeted us very warmly.

???: I’m called Akka, the person in charge of the rainforest project. Welcome to Tambuyani.

MC: Hello.

Lu Jinghe: Akka is the rainforest expert that Pax specially hired. He knows about everything in the rainforest the best.

Lu Jinghe: Weren’t you just talking about how you wanted to know about the rainforest project? You can straight-up ask him.

Akka: CEO Lu, you’re being too courteous. It’s all thanks to the support of Pax that I have the opportunity to take charge over this project that I’ve thought so long over.

Akka: Feel free to ask whatever questions you have. I’ll definitely do my very best to answer them in detail.

--

[INTERROGATION START]

Rainforest Project

MC: Could you tell me what the “Rainforest Project” is?

Akka: It’s like this. The Pax Group and the related departments of Tambuyani’s government reached an agreement to build a rainforest nature reserve.

Akka: The main goal is to develop the rainforest economy, as well as to search for and protect rare rainforest plants.

Akka: The construction plans of the whole reserve was named the “Rainforest Project” by us.

Parrot-tail Fairy Flower

MC: Hm… what’s the “parrot-tail fairy flower” project? Does it have to do with the “Rainforest Project”?

Akka: The parrot-tail fairy flower was a rare plant we noticed by accident.

Akka: In its rhizome, there is a special sort of alkaloid in it that has significant curative effects to many kinds of severe diseases. It’s got very high medicinal value.

Akka: It was just that, due to ecological damage in the rainforest a few years ago with factors like the exacerbation of resource plundering, we thought before that this species of flower had already gone extinct.

Akka: Everyone is very happy about the discovery of the continued existence of the parrot-tail fairy flower.

Akka: I truly hope that we can get a grasp on its properties early on, so we can advance in science-based planting and protection of these.

MC: I really want to see a parrot-tail fairy flower myself.

Lu Jinghe: You can. I’ll take you to see them in a few days.

Reserve Plan

MC: What plan have you prepared for your reserve? Could you let me in on it?

Akka: As of now, there are two large chunks of the plan – the ecological entertainment area and the biological reserve.

Akka: The main hit of the ecological entertainment area is the environmental protection tour, which has attracted more visitors to experience the charm of our Tambuyani rainforest.

Akka: On the biological reserve side, we’re protecting the rare plants in the rainforest. We’ve developed a limited-time sightseeing tour to increase everyone’s protective concern towards the environment.

Akka: Although, these are still in the planning stage. In upcoming days, we might adjust the plan at any given time.

MC: Still, it really does make me excited, listening to it.

MC: After it’s built, I feel like this place will become a trip hotspot.

 Rainforest Economy

MC: When you’re talking about the rainforest’s economy, you mean…?

Akka: We’re mainly developing the rainforest trip project and investing in the rainforest economy.

Akka: Only when the economy has developed will the local residents have the energy to work with us and finish the upcoming collaborative plan.

MC: (Feels like Pax is doing a big project here in Tambuyani.)

INTERROGATION COMPLETE

Lu Jinghe: Alright, let’s end this simple intro here. Shouldn’t we start touring around?

True… I’d gotten too absorbed in the conversation and almost forgot that the trip was the ultimate goal.

MC: Mhmm, let’s go! Let’s sign in at the vacation entertainment area.

Lu Jinghe: Exactly. The trip is what’s important!

 Part 3:  Vacation Relaxation Area

[Gameplay]

Part 4: Indigenous Arts Area – “Pleasures of the Resort”

Leisure Recreational Beach

Under Akka’s company, Lu Jinghe and I followed Xiangya City��s commerce main road, idly strolling near the leisure beach.

The warm sunlight paired with the sounds of the waves, making me absentmindedly think that I was vacationing at a seaside city.

MC: I didn’t think that Xiangya City had such a pretty beach.

Akka: This artificial beach is a specifically-built attraction by the trip planning department, to guide visitor flow.

Akka: A little farther down is Xiangya City’s most well-known vacation resort. As it’s your first times coming to Tambuyani, I recommend that you two must go check it out.

Akka gave us a warm introduction to the popular attractions in Xiangya City, looking just like a tour guide.

--

INTERROGATION START

Popular Attractions

MC: Akka, how about you recommend some of the popular attractions in the vacation resort for us?

Akka: I personally would recommend the two of you see the rainforest ecology park, and the indigenous art museum.

Akka: I feel like… these two places embody natural style and cultural environment of Tambuyani the best.

Rainforest Ecology Park

MC: If we go to the rainforest ecology park, we’ll probably experience the charm of the rainforest in advance, right?

Akka: Yes, the entire rainforest ecology park is designed to reproduce Tambuyani’s most famous Imana Rainforest.

Akka: Over two hundred types of rainforest plans are planted in the ecology park, and we also have explanatory guidepeople to expound on the characteristics of the rainforest plants.

Akka: I feel like this is a great opportunity for visitors to learn about the rainforest.

MC: Mhmm, we’ll go see the ecology park in a moment.

MC: I already can’t wait to experience the atmosphere of the rainforest.

Indigenous Art Museum

MC: The indigenous art museum… is it a place to display the artwork of the indigenous people?

Akka: Yes, this art museum was recently just completed and opened to the public.

Akka: There are lots of modern handmade artworks made by the indigenous people, as well as some ancient art relics dug up by archaeologists.

Akka: Trust me, you’ll definitely feel like it was worth it if you go see!

MC: (Art-related things… Lu Jinghe probably is very interested.)

MC: How about we go check out the art museum in a while?

Lu Jinghe: I was thinking this too. Sure enough, we’ve got tacit understanding.

 Rainforest Delicacies

MC: I remember that… the online guides say that there’s a rainforest delicacy street in the resort area!

MC: Are there any special delicacies you can recommend?

Akka: Haha, there are lots of delicious delicacies in the resort. As for special ones… hmm…

Akka: I’d recommend the two of you try the palmito salad and black bean coconut milk fried shrimp.

Palmito Salad

MC: Palmito salad?

Akka: Yes, it uses the tree core of a special palm tree, which gets grouped with olive oil and fresh fish to make a salad.

Akka: This kind of palmito tastes sweet and refreshing, is rich in nutrition, and it has diet therapy uses.

Akka: I guarantee that you two will praise it to high heavens after eating it.

MC: Sounds pretty good. Lu Jinghe, how about we try it later?

Lu Jinghe: Sure, it’s noted on our delicacy checklist.

 Black Bean Coconut Milk Fried Shrimp

MC: Black bean coconut milk fried shrimp? Hmm… the sound of it kind of feels like dark cuisine.

Akka: It’s not dark at all! The fragrant black beans, sweet coconut milk, and the fresh, sweet shrimp are a perfect combination!

Akka: It’s covered in breadcrumbs and fried until golden – it’ll definitely shock your tastebuds.

MC: (Why does it sound like he’s reciting it off an advertisement? Could this be a delicacy Akka likes?)

MC: Sure, I’ll try it when I get the chance.

INTERROGATION END

--

Akka patiently introduced us to the various vacation events in the resort area. The hype I was feeling was already at its highest level.

MC: It feels like there are lots of places in the resort area.

Lu Jinghe: Mhmm, we’ve got an entire day’s worth of time, and we can check them out slowly.

Just as we were chatting, Akka’s phone suddenly vibrated.

He turned around and picked up a call. A few minutes later, he hung up, looking at an utter loss as he faced us.

Akka: CEO Lu, Lawyer MC, my apologies. I’ve got some things to deal with and I’ve got to return to the research lab…

Lu Jinghe: No worries, go ahead.

MC: Thanks for introducing us to so much stuff. We’ll check everything out ourselves for the next while.

Akka: Right, this is our Tambuyani travel map, and the popular attractions have been indicated on it.

Akka: If the two of you are interested, you might as well reference the travel route on the map.

MC: This map is really useful, thank you.

Akka: No problem. Then, I hope that you have fun at Tambuyani. Goodbye.

 Part 5: Rainforest Delicacies Area

[Gameplay]

 Part 6: Rainforest Ecology Park

[Gameplay]

 Part 7: Lively Intent

Xiangya Resort Area

After bidding farewell to the person in charge of the project, Lu Jinghe and I went to wander at the resort area.

We walked as we viewed the resort area’s rainforest ecology park, experiencing the charm of the rainforest in advance.

MC: The real forest must be even more beautiful.

Lu Jinghe: Mhmm, Imana Rainforest is known as the Green Pearl of Tambuyani, the most beautiful location in Tambuyani.

Lu Jinghe: In two days, we’ll be able to witness its charm ourselves.

MC: There’s a question I’ve wanted to ask the whole time… is Pax SciTech’s collaboration with Tambuyani for the rainforest reserve very important?

Lu Jinghe: Huh, why do you ask?

MC: You’re pretty busy usually. If it’s not important, you wouldn’t come out to inspect this yourself.

Lu Jinghe: Projects like this don’t need me to head out personally to begin with, but, well…

MC: (So, you simply just wanted to come out with me and have fun?)

Lu Jinghe: I took you out to have fun to have some more days off.

Guessed right – not even the slightest bit off.

MC: Oh you… watch out, you’ll probably be scolded again by your Board of Directors members again after getting back.

Lu Jinghe: Jiejie, are you worrying about me?

Lu Jinghe’s voice was full of joy, hints of mischief showing through his eyes that were full of smiles.

Based on what I understood of him, he was waiting for me to deny it to seize the opportunity and tease me.

Hmph, I’m not letting him lead me by my nose!

MC: Yeah, I’m “worried” that that group of old people will give you a good spank when you get back.

MC: When time comes, don’t come jumping into my arms, crying.

Lu Jinghe: Ah?!

Lu Jinghe widened his eyes and opened his mouth, wanting to speak, yet speechless.

After freezing for two to three seconds, he tactically coughed twice, clearing his throat.

Lu Jinghe: Uh… tomorrow, we’re going to check in at the Mangrove Forest Park. How about we head back to the train earlier and rest?

It truly was rare to force Lu Jinghe into surrender. If there was time, I really wanted to see this for a few more minutes.

But he was right – it really wasn’t that early anymore.

Thinking about the itinerary tomorrow, I decided to let him go for now.

MC: Sure, I’ll listen to you. Let’s head back.

Hearing me say this, Lu Jinghe released a very conspicuous sigh, displaying the lively smile that was just like in the past.

[do-not-eat-the-dove]

I need to write this, I need to write this because I am so fucking angry. I am so, so fucking angry, and every problematic shipper I want you to read this. Read it, all the way through, because if you don’t then you are ignoring children you might have harmed.

Tw’s for: beastiality mention, sexual abuse mention, paedophilia mention, typical darkfic trigger warnings in essential

When I was nine, I moved into the Aphmau fandom. Earlier than that, I was an avid reader of Harry potter. Earlier than that, I was into stampy cat and iballisticsquid and skydoesminecraft. I have been in fandoms earlier than my body can remember, and I started in on wattpad when I was very, very young. Just writing, only writing. I had a vague understanding of what sex and smut was as a child, because of unmoderated youtube thumbnails. I ran into sexual themes online, because that is what a child does okay? I will admit that I knew about sex as a child if only barely.

As a kid in fandom, you don't know how to moderate things. As a literal fucking elementary schooler who doesn’t know how to differentiate “Their” “They’re” and “There”, you do not know the difference between right and wrong. You do not understand what an 18+ warning is, and you don’t know what the fuck a dead dove is and why anyone would want to eat it in the first place. You do not understand, and i think that this is something that problematic content creators expect of literal fucking children, and i also think that it is extremely irrational and condescending for you to do so.

When I was a bit older, maybe twelve/thirteen, I found ao3. I found twitter, tumblr, bnha and anime. I was excited because it was a community, so I became super involved as fast as I could. I had still not hit puberty yet. I hadn’t even learned the pythagorean theorem yet. I didn’t entirely understand variables and I had no clue that washing your face was basic hygiene. I am bringing this up to display to you that I. WAS. A. CHILD. A kid. Five years ago at this point I still had trouble jump-roping. I was a kid who had average decision-making skills for their age and who found the idea of boys gross, crushes were based on who was fastest in gym class.

I let go of tumblr because I couldn’t grasp what on earth it was supposed to be used for and how it was supposed to be used, I posted shitty depressed memes on reddit because I thought I was edgy. And then I got involved in fandom twitter.

Me, my friends, we recommended each other cute ship threads and discussed Notps and did “toxic fandom stuff” because we were children who still celebrated valentines day with sweet-tarts and holographic paper cards. I still knew jack shit about sex and relationships because as a child sex education is just “this is a penis, this is a vagina, this is how you don’t get pregnant, any questions?” 

So when one day, i decide to type “BNHA” into the search bar of twitter, intent on finding cute things to share with my online friends and instead am greeted with a picture of a character raping another character, I don’t know exactly what to do.

Let me repeat that; I looked up JUST the word “BNHA”. Just that. Nothing else. 

And I, a child, who has no decision making skills, clicks on the post. Because it makes me feel funny, and children are curious.

As a middle schooler. As a child who had the average physical and mental capacity to resist impulse, aka none, as someone who used Uwu and OwO unironically, who thought spelling “as” with a Z made me quirky and fun, discovered a main-tagged post of a character being nsfwed in a sexual assault.

From here, I explored. What you people don’t get is that is what children do. That is what children DO. And you, in all your wonderful wise ways, decide that it is on ME. On someone who had no understanding of what this was, to be the adult and say “I do not think this is right.” You, the thirty year old woman who maintags, are saying that to me, who was a twelve year old. 

I think the most traumatic thing I read during that time was an aged-down character, who went from fifteen to five, being sexually abused and pimped out by his mother and forced to have sexual contact with dogs.

Today, I suffer from intense intrusive thoughts that I do not think I need to be diagnosed for, because constantly wondering if you’re going to be sexually assaulted by every single man you come in contact with, having to shoo away evil disgusting thoughts that have made you involuntarily gag and nearly vomit, having to deal with these awful things in my brain is proof enough. Today, I have such a deep-rooted fear of sex and men and relationships that despite me being entirely Heterosexual, wanting children in the future, having these ideas of a family, I feel incapable. 

Today, I saw a fic saying that it was my own fault if I found their problematic fic, and today I raged for every child that is going to be messed up by people who choose to blameshift just because they want to use maintags. 

As fandom spaces get younger, and the fan age range grows bigger I have noticed a distinct uptick in who is reading and consuming fan content on social media. I know eleven year olds, ten year olds, I have met a nine year old child who messaged like they were twenty. All of these children read fanfiction of characters that they adore, and click on fics that include those characters because they adore them.

I’m going to share another experience that I’ve had with sex and sexual abuse that was self-inflicted, but normalized by the content that I had consumed. As a child, a thirteen year old, I messaged adult men. I went on omegle text chat, I found forums for sexual roleplay, I talked to probably a dozen adults in sexual manners without them knowing or realizing. Even a few women, and I am completely certain this experience is going to scar me until the day that I fucking pass. It makes me feel empty inside, but you know what? Your fics normalized that for me. I read a tweet from an adult, someone much older than me, who talked about having gone into adult spaces as a child. They did the same thing as me. It is a trend, but while I recognize that I was too young to know what I was seeing, reading, hearing from people who were older than me and therefore authority figures, they blamed themself. And that is the most heartbreaking fucking thing.

When you maintag. When you use a main tag, that a child who does not know how to filter out scrolls down on, and they decide that this will be an okay thing for them to consume because adults know better, will you look them in the eyes and tell them the fear of things they don’t understand and haven’t even been introduced to yet is their fault? Will you tell them that ao3 is an adult site for adults and it’s their fault for being stupid enough to read it? Will you tell them that the images that will play in their minds for years until they’re desensitized and so so scared that they’re now a bad person because of it, will you tell them that it was their fault for clicking on it when they were seven, eight, nine? 

Frankly, I do not give a shit about what you write. If it is in rpf and you still push it i will think you are a bad person, but other than that I could never care less. But I do care what you tag, because If you write the word bnha on twitter with an image of a young child's favorite character being sexually brutalised? If you maintag a fic where someone is starved till they are nearly dead, infantilised, sexually abused during all of it, and leave it out in the open on a site you know has children, in a fandom you know is targeted towards kids. If your tags leave a child open for attack, harm, mental scarring? I care, because I will not let another child be blamed for something they themselves did not fully understand the weight of.

[sector-i-closed]

Marking

Requested by @atiny-piratequeen  and part 2 of Self Control

Werewolf!Yeosang and companion!reader

Warning: Smut, knotting and the third time I've ever done a werewolf au aaaand 2,676 words

Yeosang was extremely quiet on this particular morning, watching the ground with each step that he took as you walked alongside him. It was obvious to you that he was anxious about something lingering on his mind and you weren't sure as to why he seemed so unsettled.

An entire month had nearly passed since the night that you had helped your master with his 'problem' and neither one of you could forget that night. Yeosang had been constantly craving your warmth and your touch ever since the time that you had spoiled him with the blowjob that you gave him while he was in heat and to make matters worse he was on pins and needles today because he knew the full moon was going to be at it's peak tonight and he still had not explained to you about what he had to go through when the moon tamped down his willpower.

He felt awkward about bringing the situation up with you and it was times like these when he wished that he could just ignore the moon cycle and not go through with the pain and desire to mate you.

Yeosang didn't wish to hurt you and he wanted to tell you about the mating process and the pain that went with it for the submissive party. But looking at your carefree face made the words stick in his throat, his anxiety rendering him unable to utter a word to you.

"Master, are you feeling okay?" Your gentle, concerned voice interrupted the uncomfortable thoughts that whirled through his mind.

'Tell her! It's our chance!' Yeosang's wolf piped up in his mind.

'I will when the right time comes' The male snapped at his wolf out of annoyance.

'I'll believe that when I see it’ The wolf scoffed.

'Don't make me suffer because of your pride' The wolf continued in a warning tone, going silent before Yeosang could retort.

"Master?" You asked again, noticing your master spacing out.

"Huh?" His eyes widened as a wave of embarrassment enveloped him. "Uh y-yeah, I'm fine!" He smiled at you shyly while his cheeks turned a vibrant shade of pink.

"I'm glad." You smiled sincerely, voluntarily taking his hand and holding it tenderly. Yeosang's heart fluttered at the physical contact and the tingles that resulted from the mate bond made his discomforting thoughts melt away.

'You're letting your chance slip away' The wolf broke into his mind, causing him to groan at the constant badgering by the beast.

'Now isn't the time!' Yeosang snapped, allowing you to lead him to the park bench where both of you sat down, enjoying the serenity and each others company.

The moment was too sweet and your innocent smile dissipated any courage that he had previously to broach the subject of how werewolves mate.

You kissed him lovingly on the cheek and he made up his mind right then to handle tonight the best that he could, there would be a better time in the future to bring up the full moon and his heat.

He wasn't looking forward to hurting you when it came to his knot but he still hungered to solidify the bond between you and him.

~~~~

"Fuck this!" He groaned loudly, debating as to weather he should go into the darkness outdoors, even though his instincts were directing him to you, his companion who was sleeping in the room right next to his.

The pain of his arousal was causing his judgment to blur and his wolf was laughing at him for allowing himself to get in this predicament.

'If you had talked things over with Y/N earlier we would probably both be inside of her right now, knotting her tight cunt'

'What makes you so fucking sure she would have went along with it?' Yeosang growled, palming his throbbing length through his pants.

'She's perfect. She would do anything to please us' The wolf cooed in a singsong tone.

'I don't wish to take advantage of that, even if what you're saying is true' Yeosang began pacing the floor, attempting to burn off energy to wear himself down in hopes of becoming disinterested in mating you.

'Why are you fighting our instincts?' The werewolf asked with a mocking tone.

'Shut up!' Yeosang barked out, losing his patience with everything as irritability settled within him.

'How would you feel if someone else got to Y/N, knotting and marking her as theirs when she rightly belongs to us?' The wolf sneered, freezing Yeosang in his tracks.

Darkness overshadowed his face at the thought of you being taken away from him and it was something that he had not considered before now and he felt quite disturbed at the possibility of losing you to another werewolf.

'Go to her now. We need to make her completely ours' Yeosang tried to push his wolf's voice out of his mind but the constant urging from the beast inside of him blurred his reasoning, possessiveness taking hold of him as he swiftly made his way to your room, unable to hold himself back from shifting.

You stared up at the ceiling tiredly, unable to fall asleep and you kept wondering why your mate and master Yeosang was acting strangely earlier in the day, discouraging any hope that things could progress In your relationship with the male.

The way he felt in your mouth was something pleasant to you that you couldn't and didn't want to forget and you wondered what his length would feel like inside of you.

You moaned softly at the imagining of what it might feel like for his length to slide inside of your wet heat and touch the spots inside of yourself that desired stimulation when your master would do something as simple as touching you innocently, his fingers tenderly threading through your hair in endearment while you were burning hot deep inside your veins for him.

A loud scratching noise at your bedroom door spooked you and for a moment you waited to see if the sound would resume again, which it did at a more insistent sound. It sounded as if long nails were clawing at the wood of the door and you wondered if it was your master, if so, you were puzzled as to why he didn't just open the door and come on in.

You jumped out of your bed and went to the door, promptly opening it because you were certain it was Yeosang.

The sight before you nearly made you swoon as a wave of shock jolted throughout your body, the hulking figure of a furry canine standing upright and towering directly over you accelerated your heart rate and your fight or flight instincts kicked in, encouraging you to step backwards to place distance between you and the beast.

It didn't click in your mind that it may have been your master, possibly having shifted into his wolf form. You had never seen his wolf and you were too afraid to even think that it could have been Yeosang.

"Master!!!" You screamed out as the creature took a step closer to you, it's snout quivering as it smelled the air and presumably your scent.

To your surprise it's fur seemed to melt away before your own eyes and taking the place of the beast was your master, who stood before you without a single article of clothing upon him.

Your heart pounded heavily in your chest as you shamelessly assessed his form, taking notice in how long and stiff his cock was as it jutted away from his body.

Just moments ago you were afraid and at the present moment you wanted to get down on your knees and take his hard length into your mouth. Your master appeared torn as to what to do, his pupils dilated with lust while looking awkward, standing without his clothing.

"What's going on master?" You asked hoarsely, lowering down to your knees while reaching out for his length.

"W-we need to mate you..." Yeosang growled, his chest heaving from suppressing the urge to rip away your clothing and fuck you against the wall.

"What do you mean?" You looked up at him with sweet inquisitive eyes that nearly tore away all of his restraint.

"We need to m-make you ours and g-give you our knot." Yeosang raised you to your feet and stared into your eyes darkly. You swallowed hard, excitement welling up inside of you at the thought of having intercourse with him.

"Why are you waiting, master?" You questioned anxiously, your eyes scanning the bare skin that was exposed to you.

"I don't want to hurt my companion." Yeosang edged closer to you at the guidance of his wolf, closing the gap between his body and yours. Something squeezed inside of your chest and your sex did as well, making you want what your master was needing.

"Please do it..." You whispered, your voice hushed and barely audible to the human ear but Yeosang heard you clearly.

'Do it' His wolf growled, giving your master the motivation to finally press his lips against your mouth, giving in to the lust within him to experience a heated kiss with you.

You grasped his shoulders tightly as he gave in to his instincts, kissing you fervently while his tongue pressed at your lips, desiring to taste you as his feelings swam in the pleasant tingles of the mate bond.

Slowly his hands slipped below the fabric of your shirt, enjoying the pleasing feel of your soft, warm skin against the palms of his hands.

You gasped out loud and moaned into your master's mouth as he possessively devoured you shamelessly, savoring your sweetness with each dip of of his tongue into your warmth.

Which reminded him of the time when your mouth was on his needy member.

"I've been w-wanting you to do things to me..." You breathed against his soft lips. "Please..." You whimpered, feeling the tip of his erect cock pressed up against your stomach.

'Take her now' Yeosang's wolf barked out, causing your master to frown.

'All the fuck you ever think about is yourself!' Yeosang retorted angrily.

'You never think of yourself enough' The wolf replied in irritation.

'Don't make our companion wait. Step up and make her feel like you want her' His wolf stated in annoyance, prompting something to snap inside of Yeosang with those words.

You were surprised to find yourself roughly pushed down onto the bed, your naked master's body hovering over your own clothed body.

His pupils were completely blown, blackness overtaking his irises and sending chills of anticipation throughout your body as he stared into your eyes.

"I'm going to make you all mine." Yeosang growled with a deceptive smile overtaking his features, unwittingly increasing your heart rate as you watched him shift from the sweet master that you knew to something darker that you weren't accustomed to but it still excited you all the same.

"You're so cute and fragile lying helplessly beneath me." Yeosang narrowed his eyes at the fabric that was between your skin and his, and he wanted to do something about it.

He quickly unsheathed his claws and ripped away the barrier that your shirt provided, leaving your torso exposed and your shorts were the next article of clothing to be ripped away. You panted heavily as the air kissed your skin, raising your awareness of how exposed that you were and the understanding that this was the first time that Yeosang had ever seen you naked.

"Please master, I need you now." You begged desperately, wanting him to fill you with his cock, the incessant ache inside of you demanded to feel him and you wanted to finally share an intimate moment with him.

He seemed to be fighting himself again, showing in his eyes that he was afraid that he would hurt you even though his instincts were encouraging him to ram into you heartlessly with all of his power.

"Please..." You whined, gazing down at the hesitant male who was caressing your curves and pleasuring you with his sensual touch.

The last 'please' from your lips dismantled his willpower completely, his instincts guiding him to slide his length inside of your wet, tight hole. You bit your lip hard from the sharp pinch of the intrusion, your thighs shaking violently as he filled you, his skin rubbing against your tight walls and eventually he bottomed out deep inside of you.

The feeling of your heat enveloping his dick encouraged Yeosang to move and eventually you gave him the go ahead. His first movements knocked the air from your lungs as you gripped the bedsheets, completely unprepared for the momentum of the harsh, desperate thrusts that was undoubtedly the beast's idea of satisfying you.

Your toes were already curling, becoming even more aroused at the depth of his length penetrating your heat. "M-master..." You arched your back instinctively and met his thrusts readily, the loud slapping of your skin against his pelvis was a sound that was surreal to you and a series of broken moans were a warning that you were already close to your climax and your wasn't near his release yet.

"I need you to hold on, baby." Yeosang stared with an alluring gaze into your face while purposely avoiding striking your sweet spot with the head of his cock.

"But I'm... I'm so close..." You complained breathlessly, feeling his cock press down into your lower wall and incite another pleasurable feeling that temporarily caused you to forget the almost euphoric feeling from earlier.

"So g-good ah feels so good m-master!!!" You yelped, feeling his entire length twitching inside of you while you praised him.

"Oh!" You almost screamed out when his tip suddenly pushed up against your sweet spot, repeatedly doing so until you were unable to hold back your release.

"Come with me, Y/N." Yeosang breathed raggedly while tipping over the edge into ecstasy, coming inside of you while you tried to do the same, though you couldn't seem to let go because you were still struggling to retain control of yourself.

A sensation of fullness distracted you from releasing and it seemed as if your mates length was swelling inside of you. Yeosang watched you through a haze as you threw your head back and moaned in enjoyment of the stretch, feeling the fullness of something pressing up against your g spot and you loved the unusual feeling.

You trembled beneath your master as he realized that you had not orgasmed yet and it seemed as if you were silently begging for him to do something. His hand slithered down to your clit, where he flicked his fingers against your sensitive, engorged flesh.

'We need to mark her when she cums' His wolf broke into his thoughts, disturbing the bliss that he experienced.

'I know!' Yeosang huffed, watching the range of pleasured expressions on your face as your orgasm finally swept through you.

He groaned as you spasmed on his knot, making a rush of neediness flood to his pelvis, readying him for yet another round of mating.

Yeosang quickly unsheathed his fangs, biting your sensitive neck carefully and finishing the final step of making you his. You screamed out at the cacophony of the overwhelming pleasure and shattering pain, but you remained strong, allowing the werewolf to mark you as his.

"Master..." You whimpered, feeling warmth eminating from where Yeosang had bit you.

"You should see it." The male marveled at the distinctive marking that was left behind on your neck, a profile view of a human cupping a wolf's snout with both hands.

His fingers slowly traced the marking in amazement and you were too fucked out to register anything that he was doing. Yeosang was in no hurry for you to regain your awareness since he was going to be inside of you for quite awhile now.

[waeteeth]

Location: The Woods Ft: @anemosofnyx, @mavenlockwood, & @phobetos

He doesn’t quite know how to deal with it, being around so much magic and yet...Jamie looks to Maven and then to the two oneiroi. He trusts Anemos completely, Phobetos he trusts to want to do right by Patroclus. It felt right to do the whole thing where he’d buried her, even if it was just for his own peace of mind. Maven was alive, well, she was about to be more alive, and she was right there next to him. He’s not really sure what he’s doing there aside from just being emotional support. “How long’s it gonnae take?” He has a hand on Maven’s shoulder, but he’s looking towards Anemos, they were older, he figured they had the most experience. Or at least he hoped so, for all of their sake.

This isn't the first time Anemos has assisted a vampire to return to their former state. There was a woman once, who approached them with Anathema, begging for release from what she had considered a curse. Though they had little interest in being of assistance to the stranger, it was the idea behind the ritual that piqued their interest — to touch a piece of their power they had never been capable of before on their own. It had only been proof of the fact that the oneiroi are more powerful together than they are alone. While they were never particularly one to help someone out of the goodness of their soul, it is for Patroclus and Jamie that they agreed to this request without complaint. The young vampire looks fidgety, out of place amongst the older immortals that stand around her, and the curious hazel eyes of Grace's features fall on her form for a moment, before redirecting to Jamie. "It'll be over and done with before you know it."

It's becoming very, very real to Maven that this is all happening now. It feels like they've danced around the topic for so long, it felt more like a daydream, a distant what if that might never come to fruition. But as she stands here in the forest, Jamie at her side, the reality is setting in. Either this works, or... Or she's a vampire forever. Or something worse. The thought in itself is frightening, that regardless of the outcome, the rest of her life is going to be decided tonight. Her arms cross against her chest, a subconscious defensive posture to protect herself. As long as she's been a vampire, she's felt so... Strong. Dangerous. The thing that goes bump in the night, not the one who falls victim. But right now, Maven can't help but feel infinitely small. "The sooner it's done, the better."

For this, Phobetos arrived as Yasemin- a comforting face that they had presented to the vampire in their first meeting. This was new to them, in all of their years they had yet to have seen this aspect of their ability: it required two oneiroi and a vampire who was willing, and it was an opportunity that hadn't presented itself to them until now. Dark eyes shifted to Anemos, and they did little to hide their hungry curiosity. The vampire's jaw clenched and the spirit studied her features intently, before reaching out an open hand for her to take. A comforting gesture, mortals liked that. "Nothing will harm you."

It would probably be considerably rude to tack onto that sentiment that Jamie wasn't going to let them hurt her. But he figured that wouldn't have Maven all that confident in the spirits. But he does turn to her again, offers a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. "I wouldnae let anythin' happen tae ye." Not again, not after last time. He gives her a slight nudge forward before letting go of her and stepping back, unsure how far he should actually go. He settles on a few feet and crosses his arms over his chest, just watching.

It's hard for her not to feel trepidation about this whole thing. There's a voice in the back of Maven's head that's screaming that this is too much of a risk, to back out now and run for the hills and just accept the fact that this is the way her life is going to be. Self preservation has always been a powerful instinct for Maven, something she has to actively shove down in this moment. Because despite how much the possibility of things going wrong frightens her, she can't remember the last time she's wanted something so much. She looks down at the oneiroi's extended hand, reaching her own out hesitantly until it grasps onto them, stepping forward into the small clearing they've chosen for this event. A cluster of braids fall over her shoulders as she turns to look back at Jamie once more, seeking comfort in his presence, before her attention returns to the spirits. "Okay, I'm ready."

They believe the human expression to be like riding a bike. Something about how, once you learn, you never forget it — except perhaps that's not entirely accurate, because it always felt more or less ingrained inside Anemos. It had been that way before, the last time they had done it all those years ago, and is the same today, as they stand in front of the two vampires. "She'll be just fine," Anemos offers in assurance, to both Maven and Jamie, though they're speaking to him. The oneiroi steps forward, closing the distance between themselves and the woman, gesturing with a toss of their head for Phobetos to follow in suit. "Just hold still. No matter what happens, or what you feel." This time it's Maven that they address. They place one of their hands against her collarbone, the feeling of cold skin beneath their fingertips.

Her hand in theirs is cool, and Phobetos looked over at Anemos for direction. Fingers close and tighten in reassurance, providing a firm grip as they wedge themselves between Jamie's vantage point and Maven- a last act of mischief, closed off with the lift of a pointed shoulder. Their other hand raised, holding the vampire's within the two, and they waited for words. It felt like something vestigial, like an unused muscle, the twitch of magic within them knew what to do but the spirit would not proceed without the other.

It's a lot to see, it's a lot to feel and he's never really felt comfortable in the presence of magic period. It's too unpredictable and she means too much to him for this to go sideways. But he can't very well sit there and pace and so his fingernails bite into the palms of his hands as he wills himself to just stay put. While he's curious as to how the whole thing even works, his attention is very much fixed on the youngest being there. He trusts both of the spirits, despite Hyacinth's warning, because he has to in the moment. Granted, he's watching over Phobetos's shoulders, the wee spooky shit had purposefully gotten in the way and he has half a mind to stalk a couple of paces to the left out of sheer spite. But he's determined to be unmoved for Maven.

It's time to let go of the human facade, to reach inside to the magic that resides within Anemos. Grace's hazel eyes give way to a bright blue glow, along with the runes on the palms of their hands, illuminating against Maven's skin as they grip the vampire. It's like tugging on a thread, pulling their magic forth to flow through them and out through their fingers, straight into the vampire. A purification, of the body and the soul, to restore what once was; cutting away at the threads that held the young woman in the clutches of Persephone, repairing the connection to Hecate that was severed in it's place. The goddess is not so choosy, unlike some, and does not reject the return of one of her own, the witch safely accepted back into the fold of her followers. It's a body coming back to life, a warmth blooming into Maven's chest as lungs begin to breathe again, and the pulse of a once dead heart beats underneath their fingertips. A second chance at life. And just like that... "It's done," they announce aloud, allowing their magic to recede from the witch and back into themselves, the illumination of the blue glow already beginning to fade.

There's one final moment in Maven's head where she thinks to turn and run, wonders if Jamie would hate her if she backs out now, but instead she stands firm. She doesn't like the sound of the oneiroi's words, the warning that accompanies them, but Maven nods her head regardless and grits her teeth. Phobetos still holds onto her hand, and she squeezes back tightly, wondering if they can even feel the pressure. Dark eyes focus on the one directly in front of her, and though she does not need breath, Maven still finds her's catching at the sight of their magic on display. And then she feels it. She doesn't know what she was expecting, for a body to be brought back to life. Strange isn't a fully accurate way to describe it, what starts as a tingling sensation spreading through her skin quickly turns to something more burning and rushing, a sense of vertigo that might've sent Maven to the ground were it not for the two spirits holding onto her. Her lungs feel inflamed and she can't breathe and she wonders if this might be death instead — if all creation feels like dying. But her body knows the steps, knows what it needs to survive even when her brain can't concentrate enough to think on it, air rushing into her lungs with one shuttering breath at a time. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, she doesn't remember when that happened, but it's better than trying to focus on anything else. And then, just as quickly as it came on, it begins to fade, pulling a deep gasp from Maven as she sways forward, unsteady on her feet. It's only then that her eyes reopen, startled at the lack of sudden clarity of the world around her, the dark shadows in the distance that she can no longer make out — a vampire no longer.

The magic had come easily, this was their birthright, something that Nyx had called upon them to do- and it was without an enormous amount of effort that strength bled between the two oneiroi and stripped away the tainted parts of the vampire's heart, stirring it to a beat. They were as fascinated with the process as they were with Maven's reaction, watching her face as she took in a breath, reaching forward to steady her. "Welcome back," they said warmly, watching colour bloom on her features again. "The living world, I hope it is everything that you remembered it to be, little witch."

He's felt it before, but it's different to experience it all before him. The oneiroi do their fairy godmother schtick and he hears it first, the sound of Maven's heartbeat slowly pumping blood again. Maybe it was the right thing to do it at this spot. They were saying goodbye to her vampire life and while he was still worried that this meant she'd be saying goodbye to him, Jamie feels nothing but relief she gasps for air she actually needs again. She looks unsteady and he takes a tentative step forward, hesitant for just a moment, and then he's striding towards the three. "Thanks." He offers Phobetos a nod but he actually reaches out to give Grace's upper arm a gentle squeeze. They didn't have to do this, he'll find some way to pay them back one day.

But then his attention is solely on Maven and throwing caution to the wind, he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Ye alright?"

The entire world is different. Like all of her senses have been muted, things she had become so accustomed to before suddenly taken away. She can no longer hear all the sounds of the forest around her, see anything further than the outline of the trees; like someone has thrown a sack over her head. Maven can only blink for a moment, as her mind catches up to what's happened to her body. "I'm..." She struggles for words, for thoughts, for a moment, but her eyes seek out Jamie as his hand lands on her shoulder. "I think so," she nods her head lightly. Tentatively, Maven looks down at her hands. She had almost forgot what magic had felt like, to touch it as she did once before, but she can feel it there, right underneath her skin. Like a child reaching for an object of comfort, she digs for the root of her magic, the flames that always burned through her as quick as her temper, until it sparks up through her fingertips. The mere sight of it provokes a startled laugh from Maven, delighted and a little bit disbelieving. It's been so long. A smile spreads across her face as she looks back and forth between Jamie and the two oneiroi. "Thank you."

They're less interested in the aftermath, truth be told. The former vampire holds little of their attention, nothing more than a witch again, as she wished. Anemos releases Maven from their grasp, head turning to look at Jamie as his hand lands upon them. They find him to be much more preferable company between the two. "No problem," they say blithely, as if the entire thing had been no more than a trip to the local store. "You should come by some time. So many people in this city are so boring. They don't know how to have any fun," they extend the invitation. Aside from the other oneiroi, of course — but now it's only themselves and Phobetos left of their numbers, and they cannot monopolize all of the other spirit's time. "Give Pat my love."

Phobetos watched as flame sparked up from delicate fingertips- was this worth casting immortality away? There were lighters that did the same work, but they were caught up by the joy in Maven's face, the catch of delight. It was curious, and inexplicable to them, but they dipped their head in a nod, allowing Anemos to say their piece and then leave. They stepped back as well, looking between the vampire and witch, before forming a small smile of their own. "I hope that you use this new gift well." Phobetos turned to leave, knowing all too well that they'd carry this fascination beyond the few moments it took for them to fade from view: they would watch over the witch, and see if she would truly be content in a life as mundane as Hecate's children's usually were.

He almost draws her into his arms out of the relief of it all. It does feel a bit like a weight has been lifted after all of this time, regardless of whatever the hell happens between them now, she's alive, she's okay. She's alive, she's okay, and he watches her with an almost critical eye. It had gone off without a hitch and that fact, combined with the fact that Anemos was so warm towards them, has him wondering if maybe the spirits can be trusted fully after all. He nods his thanks to them, can't help but smile a bit at the mention of Patroclus, before his attention is squarely back on Maven who seems estatic.

Jamie lets out a low whistle at the sight of the sparks at her fingertips. He can be uneasy about magic later, right now he's going to revel in things looking up for her. "Let's go home, Maves. Ye can light me a few candles." The grin he gives her is easy as the hand on her shoulder lightly claps it.