#this took two hours and forty five minutes to write up

[silvermuffins]

Seward Summary!

This is very late, I know, but it's a long one and it's taken me hours to sit still long enough to get through it and even now I've only finished Seward's part (Mina has a part after I have yet to read, myself). There is a break point partway through today's entry, to help take it in parts.

WARNINGS: violence toward a child, bloody murder, decapitation

To be absolutely clear: this entry occurs in two chunks - one dictated in the morning, describing the events of the night of the 28th, and one dictated in the evening, describing the events of the afternoon of the 29th. Let's begin.

Quincey and Arthur came over in the late evening. Van Helsing spoke primarily to Arthur, who alongside Quincey was very confused as to what is going on but not sure of anything. Van Helsing takes the opportunity to poke at Seward for having retracted his willingness to believe.

Van Helsing asks Arthur and Quincey, but primarily Arthur, to promise to let him do as he sees fit. He acknowledges it will be difficult, so he wants them to promise before knowing what he plans to do, so that after they can be angry with him but not blame themselves.

Quincey attests to Van Helsing's character. Arthur still has some reservations, but says he'll allow anything Van Helsing means to do as long as it doesn't violate his ideals or morals. They come to an agreement on this basis.

Van Helsing proceeds to explain his plan for the evening, with Arthur getting more and more upset the entire time. Van Helsing wants to sneak into the graveyard, break into Lucy's tomb, and open her coffin.

Here Arthur stops him, and Van Helsing says they have to do this or Lucy will be among the damned. He explains that she is not dead, but neither is she alive: she is undead. He asks if he may cut off her head.

Arthur is, understandably, extremely upset at the thought. He demands to know if either he or Lucy ever wronged Van Helsing, that he'd suggest such a thing. He won't allow it, he has a duty to Lucy.

Van Helsing says he, too, has a duty to Lucy, and to Arthur and to God. Right now he asks only that Arthur come along, and see for himself. Van Helsing will make the same request later, and will do what he must, and afterward he'll submit to whatever judgement Arthur has over it.

Van Helsing also explains that he's had a long life of trying to help people, and he's had to do many difficult and unpleasant things. This will be worst of all, because he spent so much time and effort trying to save Lucy. He admits to giving her blood, too. Even now, he is trying his best to help her.

Arthur agrees to at least watch and listen, see what there is to see at the graveyard.

They arrive just before midnight and enter the tomb. Van Helsing has Seward confirm that Lucy's body was in the coffin two days prior. Van Helsing opens it, revealing that she is not there.

Quincey questions just once if Van Helsing did this. Van Helsing swears he did not, and describes the events of the last few nights. That he and Seward had come, found the coffin empty, spotted the white figure, and found a child thankfully unharmed among the graves, and that the next day they'd returned and her body was there.

He also reveals that, on the night before, he'd put garlic and other anti-vampire things around the tomb door and sat watch all night, ensuring she didn't leave. Earlier, he took the garlic and other things away, because the undead can move at sundown, so now she's gone.

He directs them to all wait, hidden, outside. They do so, accepting the explanations given to various extents - Arthur struggling the most, and Quincey actually quite accepting.

Van Helsing, meanwhile, crumbles up a thin wafer into some kind of putty, works it in, and rolls it into strips that he stuffs in around the tomb of the door.

Seward asks what that's about, and Van Helsing explains that he's sealing the tomb so that the undead can't enter. The wafer is a communion wafer, the Host, he brought from Amsterdam, and he has an Indulgence. This is a big enough deal that the three men stop objecting and go to hide.

After some time, Van Helsing points out a white figure holding a dark shape. In a shaft of moonlight they see it's a woman, bent over a child, who gives a sharp but quiet little cry in their sleep.

The woman gets closer, and they're able to recognize her as Lucy....but changed. She now looks cruel and cold and has fresh blood staining her mouth. The four men stand between her and the tomb.

Seward finds his love for her turning into hate and revulsion while Arthur nearly breaks down. She tosses the child aside, smiling.

She calls to Arthur to come to her, and something about her voice rings strangely in their minds. Arthur opens his arms as if under a spell, and Lucy leaps for him. Van Helsing blocks her, holding up his little crucifix.

She recoils, and tries to flee to her tomb, but cannot. For a time she's trapped between the crucifix and the Host, and her anger and hate are stirring, palpable, and chilling.

Van Helsing asks Arthur if he may proceed with his work. Arthur assents, and is very much beginning to have a meltdown. Quincey and Seward move to comfort him.

Van Helsing removes some of the putty, allowing Lucy to pass through an impossibly small space into the tomb. Once she is inside, he replaces the putty to seal it up again.

After, Van Helsing picks up the injured child, and says they can't do more until the following day. They'll come after a funeral, in the afternoon. He also tells Arthur he's been through the worst of it, but very soon this will all be behind him. Van Helsing won't ask him to forgive him until then.

They leave the child, who isn't seriously harmed, where they'll be found. Arthur and Quincey go back with Seward, and all drop to sleep exhausted.

We take a small break here, because it occurred to me while writing this that these summaries may also be helpful for people who have limited ability to get through lots and lots of text. This is long, but the entry itself is a lot longer - I am cutting out a lot of wonderful, verbose description. Anyway!

We now reach the second part of the entry, which describes events that actually happened today (the 29th).

As agreed, the four men go to the graveyard. They all instinctively wear black. Van Helsing brought a different bag, this one distinctively long and rather heavy.

They enter the tomb, and Van Helsing sets up candles and opens the coffin. Lucy is in it, devilishly beautiful but hatefully twisted from the sweet version of her they knew.

Van Helsing lays out his tools: solder, a soldeirng iron, a gas lamp, surgical knives, a long and thick wooden stake (charred and sharpened at one end), and a hefty hammer.

Then, Van Helsing takes the time to explain what the undead are and do. They can't die, but instead feed and multiply by feeding. All those who fall victim to the undead become undead themselves. This is why he stopped Arthur from kissing her on her deathbed.

Lucy hasn't been undead very long, so her victims haven't become undead yet. If allowed to continue on, they'll fall more under her power, keep coming to her, and become undead. If they kill her for real, though, then the children will heal and be completely fine, none the wiser.

Furthermore, if they kill her for real, Lucy's own soul will be free to go to heaven, instead of being trapped on earth doing evil.

Van Helsing invites Arthur to take the task of killing her, since as her lover he has the best claim to the act of salvation. Arthur agrees.

His job will be to use the hammer to drive the stake through her chest, while Van Helsing reads a prayer for the dead from a holy book, and Seward and Quincey follow the prayer.

They set to the work. Lucy writhes and screams, but Arthur doesn't falter.

Eventually the body lies still, and Arthur reels back. They go to tend him immediately. Eventually they look at the coffin, and see that Lucy is Lucy again. She looks as they knew her in life, beautiful in a sweet way and showing the strain of her final days. At peace.

Van Helsing asks Arthur if he is forgiven. Arthur thanks him for giving him and Lucy peace. He cries into Van Helsing's chest for a little while.

Van Helsing allows Arthur to kiss Lucy now, and he does so.

Seward and Van Helsing send Arthur and Quincey out, while they saw off the long shaft of the stake, cut off Lucy's head, and fill her mouth with garlic. They gather the tools and close up the tomb. Arthur gets the key.

There's much relief in the aftermath, but Van Helsing has more to say. Their first and most harrowing task is over, but they still need to find and kill the one who did this to Lucy. He asks the three men, who have learned to believe, to join him in doing so. It will be difficult, dangerous, and painful.

They all promise to join him, and he calls for a meeting in two days. Then, he'll bring two people the rest of them don't know yet, and he'll lay out everything they know. He asks Seward to come to his hotel tonight to help him, and then he'll go to Amsterdam tonight and then return again. He'll have a lot to say at their meeting, but then they can begin their hunt.

When Seward and Van Helsing get to the hotel, there is a telegram from one Mina Harker, saying Jonathan is at Whitby and she's coming with important news, now.

Van Helsing cannot stay, so he sends Seward to meet her and take her to his home, and sends a wire to Mina so she'll be aware.

Van Helsing tells Seward that Mina kept a diary in Whitby, and her husband kept one abroad. He gives Seward typewritten copies of both, and tells him to read and study them well, and add to them in any way he can, because they'll help their efforts greatly. There is much of importance in the papers, and they might make or break the quest.

Seward goes to meet Mina at the station. She recognizes him, first, and says she was able to do so by Lucy's description. Seward gets her luggage, including a typewriter. Seward sends word for his housekeeper to prepare rooms for Mina.

They get back to the asylum, and Mina asks to come to Seward's study shortly because she has much to say. Seward has spent all the time in between then and now keeping his diary, and has yet to read the papers Van Helsing gave him. Here Mina is now, and he assumes she knows little to nothing of what is going on and that he shouldn't frighten her.

It ends just like that, and there's still more in the entry to read. I still need to read it. This part is from Mina's perspective, though. I'll summarize that too, or any other entries, if asked, but for now here we are.

I have moved on to reading and discovered there is a third portion of Seward's diary, after Mina's section. So, this is an edit, to add more.

Seward got very absorbed in Jonathan and Mina's diaries, and since Mina wasn't ready when dinner was called he delayed the meal by an hour.

Mina comes to him with the look of someone who has been crying. Seward is afraid he has distressed her, but she says it's more that by listening to his diary as he'd spoken it, she felt his every emotion very deeply. She doesn't think his voice and heart should be heard in that manner again, so she typed out his diary.

She only had the diary through September 7th, but she's sure it has much more to the story of what's been happening than hers and Jonathan's alone. Therefore, it has to be added to the papers they share among the group for the best chance of killing the monster.

She insists there should be no secrets, and they'll be stronger for sharing information. She and Jonathan have been working ever since they met Van Helsing, and Jonathan is getting more information in Whitby. He'll be bringing it tomorrow.

Seward realizes she'll do as she will, and won't be satisfied until she learns the entire truth of Lucy's death. So, they'll break for dinner and stay strong, and after that Mina can have the rest of the diary, and he'll answer any questions she has.

Okay NOW we are finished with Seward for the day. After that bit, there's another section of Mina's diary, and then we hear from Jonathan, and I still have to read those parts but I checked and there isn't more Seward after. This, was a lot,

[minnieminshi]

Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this. 

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start. 

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor. 

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen. 

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.  

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?” 

Oh? 

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.” 

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off. 

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?” 

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.” 

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.” 

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case. 

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now. 

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to. 

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol. 

Or so you thought. 

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what. 

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you. 

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book. 

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you. 

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult. 

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out. 

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.” 

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes. 

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying. 

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.  

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him. 

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl. 

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.” 

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.” 

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.” 

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.” 

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help. 

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly. 

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?” 

Wow, he’s really not letting this go. 

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person. 

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.” 

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.” 

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.” 

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?” 

“You know what, go crazy dude.” 

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park. 

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you. 

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you. 

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.” 

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.” 

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say. 

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.” 

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.” 

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.” 

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out. 

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible. 

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from. 

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly. 

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call. 

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in. 

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.” 

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car. 

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina. 

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter. 

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door. 

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door. 

Choi Seungcheol. 

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?” 

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has. 

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.” 

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment. 

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment. 

“Real or am I hallucinating?” 

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need. 

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen? 

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?” 

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird. 

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh. 

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.” 

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.” 

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.” 

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him. 

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today. 

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag. 

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier. 

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water. 

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better. 

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again. 

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care? 

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl. 

“Oh.” 

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you. 

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?” 

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.” 

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company? 

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away. 

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother. 

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes. 

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick. 

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you. 

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?” 

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.  

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.) 

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on. 

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen. 

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like. 

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy. 

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.” 

“Yeah… see you later, princess.” 

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text? 

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend. 

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.) 

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification. 

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh. 

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees. 

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray. 

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him. 

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?” 

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?” 

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye. 

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once. 

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy? 

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health. 

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table. 

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble. 

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse. 

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it. 

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss. 

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode. 

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure. 

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?”  You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.” 

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.” 

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.” 

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-” 

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.  

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns. 

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?” 

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.” 

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life. 

“Anything for you, princess.” 

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news. 

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!” 

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything. 

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament. 

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.” 

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident. 

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment. 

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting. 

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time. 

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother. 

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other. 

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot. 

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you. 

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.” 

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time. 

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is. 

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat. 

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food. 

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?” 

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?” 

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl. 

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

[writesleah]

not a chance ౨ৎ m. riddle

౨ৎ mattheo riddle x reader

౨ৎ angst/fluff

౨ৎ you and mattheo are sworn enemies, but everything changes when he becomes your tutor

౨ৎ one sex reference, use of y/n

౨ৎ 1.9k words

౨ৎ this is way longer than i was planning on making it but once i started writing, the words just flowed. this hasn’t been proofread either so i apologise if theres any mistakes that slipped through. i’m also fairly new to writing mattheo, but i’m so obsessed with him right now that i just had to do it for my first published fic!

enemies should never spend time together - that’s just a fact - and mattheo riddle was your worst enemy. you had never met someone more infuriating in your life, someone so incredibly cocky that it made you want to pitch yourself off the astronomy tower. he did all of that for you, and more.

you were in your potions class, watching the hands on the clock tick by every second, every minute, waiting to finally be released from the hell professor snape held you in for a full hour every tuesday and friday.

potions was never really your strong suit, so you knew doing your O.W.L for the class wasn’t going to go so well, but your friends convinced you to go. of course they did.

your eyes darted to the door as you heard it swing open, a boy with curly, brunette hair stalking in.

“you’re late, mr riddle.” snape glared at mattheo, his voice it’s usual stern tone. “forty-five minutes late.”

“sorry, professor. i was helping professor moody with something for defence against the dark arts.” he sneered back, emphasising the fact that mad-eye moody was teaching the class and not snape, who gave him a sharp look before continuing on with his class.

“surprised to see you here.” the familiar voice scoffed as he took a seat on the table next to yours, where all of his friends were conveniently sitting. how pleasant.

“riddle.” you murmured, eyeing him as he took his seat and pulled out his quill.

“awh, greeting me?” he smirked, his head tilting just slightly in a way that was so incredibly frustrating. “did you miss me over the summer?”

you scoffed at the idea, rolling your eyes. “miss you? not so much.”

“ouch. that one hurt, not gonna lie to you.” he laughed to himself, scribbling down the date on the top of his parchment.

“cute.” you spat. you never really bothered to give him full replies, not in the way that he did, unless you felt it was absolutely necessary. “why’d you even turn up? the lesson ends in fifteen minutes.”

“i was going to just skip, but then i remembered my favourite person would be here.” he smiled warmly, though it was laced with that familiar sarcasm you knew all too well.

you give him a small glare, quirking a brow at him. “yeah? who’s that? me?”

“is that a joke?” he scoffed, his expression turning serious as he glared at her. “no, daphne.” he motioned to the girl on his right. you had noticed they had grown closer over the last few weeks of third year, but never really thought much of it. he wasn’t really the type to get into serious relationships, more just little flings or girls he would snog and then never speak to again.

you felt a pang of emotion in your heart, but you weren’t sure why, or what it was. a smirk slowly made its way onto his face as he watched your nose screw up, his brows raising in amusement. “why? you wish it was you?” he laughed again, sarcastically, as always.

“course. whatever will i do now that i know i’m not mattheo riddle’s favourite person?” you scoffed, shaking off the feeling and giving him the glare you always did. why did you care? you didn’t, right?

he gave you a small chuckle in return, before the conversation quickly ended, along with the lesson not so long after.

“miss (y/l/n), mr riddle, please stay seated when everyone else leaves.” snape demanded, causing you to roll your eyes and let out a quiet groan.

when everyone else had left, the professor stalked towards the two of you, eying you both up cautiously before he spoke.

“as you both know, you begin to prepare for your O.W.Ls in fourth year, this year.” he began, the mention of the tests making you want to curl up in a corner and never think again. “given miss (y/l/n)’s frank inability to brew a single potion over the last few years, she will need a tutor to give her any chance of passing the test.”

you screwed your nose up at the slight dig, but continued listening to him nonetheless. “now, mr riddle has proven himself to be quite talented in my class, so he will be your tutor. i trust that i can leave you two here for the hour to begin your first session?”

you groaned loudly, watching a smirk spread on mattheo’s stupid face, but nodded in defeat. “yes, professor.” you mumbled, your head in your hands.

snape swiftly left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“you reckon we can just lie and say we did the hour?” you murmured, your eyes peeking through your fingers to look at the brunette.

he scoffed quietly. “kind as ever.” he retorted, shaking his head. “you might as well do it. we all know you’re hopeless when it comes to potions, so it might do you some good.”

“myeh, kind as ever.” you mimicked, rolling your eyes. “fine. hurry it up, though.”

he moved to sit next to you, beginning to ask you questions to gauge where you were at with your knowledge in potions. of course, you managed to get every question wrong, or do something that put him off.

“you don’t know anything?” he groaned, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “you’re so fucking stupid, merlin. i’ve never met a fourteen year old girl as dumb as you.”

you furrowed your brows, a small pout on your face. “i’m not stupid. it’s the subject. it doesn’t make any sense.”

“i’m going through first year stuff right now. you’re ridiculous if you think you’re going to pass your O.W.L.” he scoffed, waving his hands around frantically as you laid your head on the table, your tongue between your teeth as you held back a snarky comment.

“whatever.” you groaned. “i give up. i’m expecting myself to fail at this point. i know i will. there is no point in us doing this.”

“i mean… you’re probably right, but you should at least try.” he shrugged slightly, his tone still full of annoyance. you watched his fingers brush through his dark curls, your head tilting just slightly as he did so. his brows furrowed as he looked at you, muttering a small “what?”

“why are you so insistent that i stay with you right now?” you blurted, voicing your thoughts before you could take it back.

he didn’t say anything, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes tracing your body just long enough for you to notice. you squirmed slightly at the sudden tension between you, shooting him a dirty look.

“stop looking at me like that. it’s weird.” you spat, attempting to shake off his gaze, if that was even possible.

“like what?” his eyes shot back up to yours, his nose scrunching slightly, his smile frown lines more visible than ever.

“like i’m one of the girls you try to snog up in the astronomy tower. stop it.” you had witnessed and interrupted his shameless make out sessions far too many times, the tower being a place you both frequented, though for reasons of the complete opposite. you went there to be alone, he went there to have company.

his hand shifted to your thigh, landing on top of your pleated school skirt the uniform required you to wear, a smirk on his face. “do you want to be?”

your gaze was fixed on his hand, squirming slightly at the sudden contact, though not making any effort to stop it. “uh, no. not really. what the fuck?” you let out a half-laugh as you looked back up at him, seeing his brows furrow slightly. “what? was that not the right answer? want me to get on my knees and beg for you to make out with me under the stars?”

he scoffed to himself, rolling his eyes. “yeah, you’d definitely do that.” he retorted sarcastically, giving you a small glare.

“you have the wrong idea of me.” you shook your head, biting your lower lip just slightly as you felt his thumb move to the hem of your skirt. “what are you doing?”

“showing you how much i want you.” his voice took on a low and serious tone, before crashing his lips into yours. you didn’t move for a moment, before quickly coming to your senses and shoving him off.

“are you high or something?” you looked him up and down, rubbing your lips together in an attempt to make the strange sensation they held go away.

“no. completely sober. i don’t smoke weed.” he laughed quietly, looking at you in amusement. you gave him a small huff, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling the truth. “was that your first kiss?”

your lips parted in amusement, the tip of your tongue held just between your front teeth. “what?”

“was that your first kiss?” he repeated, his eyes tracing every inch of your face. “because, no offence, but if it wasn’t, you’re a pretty shit kisser. i doubt you have experience.”

you scoffed at his words, shaking your head with a small pout. “no, it wasn’t my first kiss. it was just ‘shit’, as you so elegantly put it, because i didn’t fucking kiss you back, idiot.” you felt the overwhelming urge to spit as many swear words and insults you could muster at him, but held back when you saw the look in his eyes.

“wanna actually kiss me, then?” he huffed, rolling his eyes, before they settled on the pillowy, pink flesh of your lips.

you hesitated for a moment, before leaning in to give him a small kiss. his lips were soft, and the slow motions gave you a better feel of him than the first kiss. it felt safer, more intimate.

the second you went to pull away, he pulled you in closer, the kiss growing slightly more aggressive. you felt the edge of his fingertips slide just slightly under your skirt, going no further than the edge of the hem. the movement was enough for you to pull away, though.

“riddle…” you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his hand. “look, i don’t know what you get up to with half your little girlfriends, but i don’t wanna, like, do anything, so…” you shrugged slightly.

he looked at you with a furrowed brow for a moment, before letting out a small chuckle, which just confused you further. “oh, wait, no.” he shook his head, which tilted as a sly smirk came across his face. he removed his hand from your thigh and let out another short laugh. “i wasn’t trying to- sorry. yeah, no, i’m in the same boat as you. i may get with a lot of girls, but i’m still fourteen at the end of the day. i’m not really doing anything other than make-outs yet.”

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding at his words, a small smile settling on your face. “okay, good. i was panicking a bit there.” you added with a single laugh.

it was silent for a while as you both relished in each other’s company, or rather, didn’t know what else to say.

“so…” you spoke up after a couple minutes, your eyes darting back to his, “do we still hate each other?”ll

he raised his brows in amusement, a small, almost disgusted scoff coming from his mouth.

“not a chance.”

[toomuchracket]

my whole life, waiting for you: part 1 (ross x girlband gf!reader angst/fluff)

i don't know. i just wanted to write something. it's more pining/missing someone than actual angst, and there's more to come, at some point. loosely inspired by the seminal song super trouper by abba lol. i hope you like it <3

it's sunny in glasgow today. which is weird, especially for february.

but it's beautiful, ross thinks. it's a shame that a city so made up of sandstone doesn't get to see the sun so often; the buildings seem to glow when the daylight hits them, reflecting off the glass fronts of their newer neighbours, the intricate details in the stonework clearer than he's ever seen them before. 

the people on the street below seem to glow in the sunshine, too, which is saying something given that ross's hotel room looks out onto hope street, to the flood of people heading to and from glasgow central station. at half 8 on a thursday morning, you'd expect a certain level of crabbiness (or crabbitness, in scotland) from them, as they make their way to another day of work and school and uni, but everyone's a bit more cheery today. scarves have been unravelled, jackets unzipped… there's even one guy walking about in a t-shirt and shorts as if it's mid-july.

ross smiles at the sight, but it doesn't last long. 

you should be here seeing it all with him.

but you're still in london, hundreds of miles away, and he won't see you until he's back there himself. it's only four days away, but it's been ten since the last time you were together, and ross has decided that a fortnight apart is simply too long. especially after the months spent continents apart at the end of last year.

still, it's not like either of you can do anything about it. he's on tour. you're in the final days of production on your band's new album. there's no resentment, at least, because you've both been in the other's shoes, but there's pining, and a loneliness that no amount of calls and texts and facetimes can fully shift.

a knock on the door briefly interrupts it, though, and a familiar deep voice follows. "ross, mate, s'me."

george. ross opens the door, and is immediately pulled into a hug - a proper one, not a hyper-masculine bro hug - before his friend steps into the room and surveys the view. "nice day."

"yeah," ross nods, moving to stand next to george. "sun's nice."

the two men stand in silence for a minute, side by side, looking out at the city below. george turns to look at ross, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. "you alright today, mate?"

ross nods. "just… well, you know how it is. missing my girl."

"yeah, exactly," george nods too, then smiles. "m'happy for you, though. a bit pissed off that you didn't tell me until last night, but mostly happy."

"wasn't even planning on telling you, mate," ross huffs out a laugh. "the night just got the better of me."

the night, beginning with a two-hour long facetime with you after dinner that only exacerbated your respective lonelinesses. ross loves his job, absolutely fucking adores it, but as the days pass he's less and less reluctant to admit that the nomadic nature of touring is beginning to wear a bit thin for him. when you answered that call, tucked up in bed wearing what was unmistakably ross's slowdive t-shirt, brew in hand and glasses on… he did find himself wishing that the next show was the final one, so he could go home to you. and yet, despite that, talking to you did perk ross up a little bit, enough to make him agree to go for some drinks with the band and the techs and try to have a nice evening. 

but the loneliness soon won out again, and the alcohol took over; forty-five minutes after everyone got to what ended up being the final pub of the night, ross was outside chaining cigs and thinking about your call again. george came out for his own smoke, found his friend near tears, and that's when ross spilled the whole story to him, the whole truth about you and him and your relationship. after eighteen months, your secret was finally released, in the middle of mitchell lane, under the neon lights and the moon and a cloud of marlboro smoke, at one o'clock in the morning.

"yeah, well, i'm glad you said," george grins. "she's great. i love her."

"so do i," ross sighs. "and i really, really miss her."

his friend nods. "only four days, though, for both of us. we'll manage. trust me, ross, it'll fly in. and it'll be good. two nights of glasgow shows, yeah?"

"if we were anywhere else, i'd be so much worse."

"i believe it. now," george picks up ross's jacket from the back of a chair and holds it out to him. "shall we take advantage of the nice day and go for a coffee with the boys?"

ross shrugs. "might as well."

***

"george says it's sunny today."

you slowly crack your eyelids open and look at charli blearily. "in glasgow?"

"i know! i didn't believe it either, until he sent me a pic. here," charli, admirably and enviably well-rested and energetic, thrusts her phone towards you.

"oh, yeah. pretty," you squint closer at the screen, noting the infamous 'people make glasgow' sign framed against a backdrop of clear blue sky. squinting further, you make out adam mid-stride towards the city chambers, turning back to look at an animated (probably making a shit joke about george and george square) matty and a smiling ross. a pang of longing hits you square in the chest as you look at your boyfriend and the crinkles by his eyes, drawing a lovesick sigh from your lips.

charli smiles softly at you, putting her phone down on the pull-down table and pulling you into a hug. "three hours to go, babe."

"i know. god, i must sound so stupid, sighing like a fucking war wife or some shit."

"not at all, it's cute," your friend says. "and i always thought you and ross would be cute. didn't i tell you that?"

"i don't think you ever said 'cute', per se, but you did say if we started an onlyfans together then you'd subscribe. so, kinda the same thing, i suppose."

"and i stand by that statement," charli giggles. her face softens. "were you and him, like, together, when i said that?"

"uh huh. had been for a year."

"jesus christ," she shakes her head. "i can't even be annoyed at you for keeping it a secret, because i'm just so fucking impressed you managed to do it for so long."

you shuffle in your seat to look out the window, the view a blurry patch of trees somewhere between london euston and glasgow central. "yeah, in hindsight, we probably shouldn't have hidden it for so long. i'm worried people are going to be upset that we did, when we tell them."

"by people… d'you mean matty?"

you nod, pressing your lips together in nervousness. it's definitely worse for ross, given their long friendship, but matty and george have become almost like older brothers to you through their support of you and your band, and so the fear of the former being hurt by the upcoming revelation is very real to you too.

"oh, he'll be too excited to be sad," charli grins, then giggles maniacally. "and too busy trying to convince you and ross to have musical-prodigy kids."

you think you wouldn't be opposed to that idea, but it still seems too soon to say it out loud.

"i hope you're right, charli," you say instead, although you can't keep the tiny smile from your face at the sweetly domestic thought. "you really think he won't be angry? or adam? christ, imagine upsetting adam! i'd never forgive myself."

"well, put it this way," charli moves so she can look you in the eye, taking your hands in her own. "i was woken up at 2am by george telling me you and ross were secretly together, and that i just had to drop everything today to get the train to glasgow with you so you could surprise him, and my overwhelming emotion was not anger, but excitement. so yeah, i think the boys'll be fine."

you squeeze her hands gratefully. "you took the 2am phone call better than i did," you snort. "i could've throttled your boyfriend for waking me up, babe. especially after the week i've had."

charli laughs. "just think, though - in a few hours, you'll have ross to kiss it better."

and what a nice thought that is. you're aware of your body sinking further into the plush train seat, but every other sense zones out the present completely in favour of remembering past kisses with your boyfriend; it isn't until charli actually pinches your bare forearm that you snap out of your romantic little daydream about ross's lips and tongue and hands.

she laughs when you frown at her, wriggling in her seat into what you've come to learn is her gossip pose. "your face just lit up there - i take it ross isn't lacking in kissing ability?"

you smirk. "not in the slightest."

"i love that for you. and what about ability," charli's volume drops as her brows lift. "... elsewhere?"

the smirk grows, and you gleefully swing your legs as much as you can without instigating an argument with the person sitting in front of you. "no comment."

"oh, you bitch," your friend lightly slaps your arm. "at least tell me if you're satisfied or not, please!"

your mind thinks back to the last night you saw your boyfriend, and to the beard burn still lingering on your inner thighs. "'satisfied' is an understatement."

"obsessed with that. obsessed with the two of you! tonight's going to go well. i can feel it."

deep down, you know charli's right. it's your friends you're telling about you and ross tonight. they love you. they want you to be happy.

you want that too. you want to be able to be the properly proud adoring girlfriend at the side of the stage tonight, cheering on ross and shouting "i love you"s and doing your utmost to get him to do that crinkly-eyed smile that makes your heart glow. all you have to do is be honest with your friends.

ross's eyes cross your mind again, for the millionth time today. yeah, tonight will go well - you'll make sure of it. for him.

[kritischetheologie]

for the trope mashup - dystopia x coffeeshop

Since you didn't request a ship I'm trying my hand at galex for you! Worldbuilding cribbed from that one movie I haven't seen where years of your life are literally money or whatever.

1. George doesn't have time to stop for coffee on his way to work. He really, really, doesn't have time for it. Going to Eton cost him forty years, which was nothing to his classmates, born with lifespans into the four-hundreds, but. But George was born with eighty years to burn, into a family that believed he could beat the clock. Imperial college cost him another twenty, and four actual years of his life, to boot. He'd have died if he hadn't worked those summer finance internships. Half the time, he has to take a payday loan to make rent on his Mayfair apartment, or when he picks up the tab for a work dinner, to keep from zeroing out before his next deposit hits. All the time, he keeps his cufflinks carefully buttoned, watches the number on his arm tick toward zero, and counts the days to his next paycheck. Plus, his first meeting of the day is at 7. He doesn't have time to stop for coffee.

2. Alex's mom was given the choice between five years in prison and a twenty-year deduction. Alex can't blame her for choosing prison, except-- except he had to drop out of school to take care of his siblings, since she couldn't. Except he couldn't get a scholarship, without A-Levels, so he never went to Uni. He'd wanted to study mechanical engineering. Maybe he still can, someday. Life is long. His dad left him a hundred years when he died, and the rent in his shithole apartment is cheap, a couple days a month. He doesn't mind the coffee shop for now, though. The people working there are nice, a lot nicer than the asshole kids he grew up with.

3. George stops in for coffee every day, anyway, even though he doesn't have the time. What's a couple more minutes when you might as well be bleeding out? Alex makes the best latte in town, not that George knows that. He just likes his soft brown eyes, his perpetually bleach-fried blonde hair, the little jokes he makes when George is ordering. Alex wears frayed t-shirts for punk bands George hasn't heard of over long-sleeved thermals, or else under his beat-up denim jacket, and keeps the AC in the shop cranked to near freezing temperatures. Of course George wonders what's on his arm, but it would be impolite of Alex to show it off, a cheap way of guilting people into tipping more. The waiters in the fancy restaurants George takes Carmen to, for birthdays and anniversaries and to celebrate promotions, are told to roll their sleeves at the elbow, so you can see how well-paid they are. The first time someone with five more years than George took his order, George ended up throwing up in the bathroom.

4. When Alex writes his phone number on the paper cup he hands George, it takes George two whole weeks to call him. He shows up every day, and Alex takes his order with the same cheer, makes the same jokes, like it's all the same to him. It makes George not want to call him at all, but then Carmen's best friend gets engaged, and George gets dragged out for celebratory drinks, for her and her fiance, and of course neither of them are going to pick up the check, and of course he can't ask Carmen to do it, and suddenly there's three bottles of champagne on his tab, like six fucking days worth of champagne, and George is getting paid on Wednesday but it's Monday, and he's got three left days on his arm and half an hour before the waiter comes to their table with the check it's past midnight, none of the payday lenders will open until morning and George has to find a solution, fuck, so he goes out for a cigarette-- "babe, you've gotta quit, those thinks will kill you someday," Carmen chides, and everyone giggles, and maybe George should just let this night be the thing that kills him, fuck-- and calls the only person he knows who has any chance of having any connection to the criminal underworld.

5. "Georgie!!" Alex says, sounding surprised and delighted and maybe a little drunk, or high, or-- George doesn't have time to think about what else could make his vowels so smooth, his voice so calm. George doesn't have time. "Fuck, Alex, I'm so glad you picked up, I've got a friend in a bit of a scrap, you know, and I'm wondering if you might know of anyone who could get him some off-market time. Exchange rate's not an issue, and he doesn't need very much, it's not for anything illegal, I swear, but--" "shit, George, this isn't the type of thing you can just call a guy about. Do you have any idea how illegal this is? Fuck, are you a cop? Is this about my mom? Who even told you? What the hell kind of s sick joke is--" "--OK, I lied," George interrupts, because he has to, fuck, he'll die if he doesn't. "It's not for a friend. It's for me. And I only need a week or two, but I need it now, like, now now, or you're going to be short a regular tomorrow. If you. If you know what I mean." He hears a deep inhale on the other end of the line. "I'll transfer you two weeks, right now, if you promise not to ask questions," Alex says, and George is too relieved not to cry as he accepts.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Sucker

Words: 6,602

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Language (had to tell Dean to shut the fuck up a couple times), brotherly bickering

Summary: The reader is introduced to Gabriel, the famous trickster/archangel, for the first time, much to his brothers' dismay. What the reader didn't expect from their first meeting was to meet a rather handsome man with smooth talk to match. What happens when he starts to get feelings for the person that annoys Sam and Dean the most?

Request:

Do you write for Gabriel as well? If so, could you write something about maybe the reader being Dean and Sam's younger brother (the relationship was really cute in "aginst the grain" and "lucky", i'd also love ftm reader, but it's up to you if you want to make it specific or not) and Gabriel finally meets him, making the other two go kinda protective over that, it's Gabriel after all, he has messed with them a lot in the past. They'd probably go especially uneasy if Gabriel gets kinda flirty or if so does the reader.

Anonymous

A/N: Someone take my computer away from me. Once I start writing, I can't stop. This wasn't supposed to be that long but holy Hell, I guess it's this long. I hope I did your request justice and I hope I wrote Gabriel well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love!

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(Y/N) loved having the first shower after a hunt. 

The water was always hot, the perfect relaxer for his muscles that would undoubtedly ache the next day. Despite how long he had been hunting, certain aspects of the job made him feel like a rookie. Salt and burns were one example. That night, he had been tasked with helping Dean dig out the grave while Sam kept an eye out for security and any apparitions that would make a surprise appearance. For the first thirty minutes of digging the hole, he felt alive, like a rush of adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Perhaps the idea of committing a crime was to blame for that. Near the half-hour mark, he could feel the muscles in his arms beginning to strain, but the job had to be completed. 

It took two hours to dig four feet to the coffin - he cursed the dry Southern weather for making the dirt so coarse - and by the end of it, his arms fell limp and weak at his sides. His legs felt some irritation from pushing the shovel into the ground, but they weren’t nearly as affected as his upper arms. He sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that the next hunt didn’t involve as much manual labor. If they did run into a ghost, he at least hoped the ghost held an attachment to an object that they could easily burn. Gravedigging was the last thing he wanted to think about. 

He showered for forty-five minutes, longer than he had anticipated, but the water had placed him in an exhausted trance. Truth be told, he could have fallen asleep under the shower spray. He just hoped the cheap motel held enough warm water in their tanks for his brothers to experience some relaxation. 

Motel towels were always scratchy on the surface of his skin. It was annoying, but there was some relief in knowing that the rough texture would guarantee a more thorough cleaning. Despite the cheap body wash he always snagged from the local dollar store, he never felt dirty leaving a motel bathroom. Once his body was dried, he put on his boxers and an oversized t-shirt, thankful for Walmart’s wide variety of sizes so he could conceal his chest. He placed both hands on either side of the sink, staring into the steam-covered mirror. He reached up, drew a small smiley face in the center of it, and watched as the eyes and mouth dripped. The warmth of the small room was comforting, and he was finding it difficult to leave. 

A loud knock rapped on the door. “You gonna spend any more time in there? If I take a cold shower, I swear to God,” Dean’s voice came in muffled through the wooden door. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t get your pretty silk panties in a twist,” he grumbled, and he could practically feel his brother’s eye roll through the door. 

A sigh passed his lips as he looked at the smiley face he had drawn, which looked as if it had melted away in the hot sun. He reached a hand up and wiped the remnants of the picture away. As he retracted his hand, he could see his reflection in the opaque glass. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes, a side effect from hunting. The endless, restless nights seemed to be getting to him and aged him more than he would have liked. He groaned as he straightened up, brought a hand up to his face, and ran his fingers over his eyes, nose, and cheeks. 

When he opened his eyes again, instead of staring into a reflection that mirrored his presence, to his left, behind his shoulder, stood a man. Time froze. A playful smirk appeared on the man’s lips. He was short - compared to Sam and Dean, at least - with dark brown hair swept back neatly against his head. Stubble was placed along his jaw, chin, and upper lip. His sideburns were shaped with a slight point on the end of them, facing outward. He had a button-up shirt on, the top two buttons were undone to expose a small puff of his chest hair, and a dark green jacket. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he stared at the man in the mirror. The air became heavy. He could feel his presence behind him, but he wouldn’t dare turn around. 

“So, you’re the famous baby Winchester?” The man raised a brow. 

His voice startled (Y/N). He turned around quickly and came face to face with the stranger. 

“I’m a little surprised,” the man scratched his head. “I would have thought that you would look, you know, more like your brothers.” 

(Y/N) could feel his heart pounding in his chest as if it was trying to escape. The fear bubbled inside of his gut. He had no weapons on him, yet the man didn’t seem like a threat. Nonetheless, there was a strange man in the motel bathroom with him. One who just appeared out of thin air. That was cause enough for alarm. His eyes glanced towards the closed bathroom door. 

The man looked at the door and then back at (Y/N). “Oh, please don’t scream.” 

“Sam! Dean!” (Y/N) shouted as he rushed to the door. 

The man groaned and rubbed his temples. In the same instant that (Y/N) got the door open, the man vanished. (Y/N) stumbled out of the bathroom and into his eldest brother’s arms. Dean staggered, his back pressed against the wall. Sam stood next to them, a look of worry crossing his face.

“What happened? What happened?” Dean asked with alarm in his voice. 

“There’s a guy! He-he,” (Y/N) turned to look behind him, a hand lifted to point in the direction of the bathroom, but stopped himself from talking once he saw that the man was gone. 

Dean looked into the bathroom, brows furrowed. He and Sam stepped away from (Y/N) and toward the open door. Dean glanced inside, checking behind the door and in the shower. Dean threw his hands up. 

“What guy?” He asked. “There’s no guy here, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Dean placed his hand over his chest as he walked out of the bathroom. 

“There was a guy! He just appeared behind me!” (Y/N) said. 

“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Sam asked, doing a sweep of the bathroom from the doorway. “It doesn’t look like anyone besides you has been in here. There aren’t any windows, so no one could have gotten in. Are you sure you’re not just tired?” 

“I saw him!” 

“Sure you did, kid,” Dean walked up to him and clapped his shoulder. “Maybe you should lay off the horror movies for a while.” 

“Now, that’s not very nice, Dean-O. No need to tease him like that,” the voice appeared in the center of the room. 

All heads turned toward the sound of the voice. The man, who had been in the bathroom with (Y/N), stood in the center of the room. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier was ever-present. (Y/N) grabbed Dean’s arm and moved closer to him. He pointed frantically at the stranger. 

“That’s him! He was in the bathroom!” 

Sam furrowed his brows. “Gabriel?” 

Gabriel raised his arms in a presentation-type pose. “The one and only.” 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean asked, his tone more irritated than anything.

“Gabriel? As in, the archangel Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked his tense shoulders slouching as his body relaxed. 

“Again: the one and only,” Gabriel smiled. “And, to answer your question, Dean, a little birdy told me that you were in town, so I figured I would stop by, and see my favorite Winchesters. Heard the youngest was here, and I thought it was about time we met. Although, I heard that you had a younger sister. Must’ve been a mistake.” 

“Yeah, that’s a mistake alright.” Dean placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, you came in, you saw us, now can you please leave?” 

“Woah, woah, what happened to hospitality? Why don’t you introduce me to your brother, here?” Gabriel sauntered over towards the three of them. 

“No, now get out.” 

“Not until an introduction is made.” 

“Gabriel, we just got off of a hunt. We need some rest, now can you please leave?” Sam crossed his arms.

“Come on, guys, it’ll get him out of here so we can go to sleep,” (Y/N) mumbled before he turned to Gabriel. He held out a hand. “(Y/N) Winchester,” 

“(Y/N),” he said the name as if testing it on his tongue. He reached out, grasped (Y/N)’s hand gently in his own, brought it up to his lips, and gave a small kiss on the back of it. “Gabriel. Nice to finally meet you.” 

(Y/N) raised his brows, his cheeks heating up with blush. Dean rolled his eyes and swatted Gabriel’s hand away from (Y/N). 

“Alright, alright, none of that,” Dean grumbled, sending a death glare toward Gabriel. “You know his name, now get out.” 

Gabriel ignored him, his eyes stuck on (Y/N). “So, (Y/N), aside from being good-looking, what do you do in your free time?” 

Dean and Sam both groaned and rolled their eyes, shaking their heads. (Y/N) felt his chest warm up the same as his face. He glanced down and fiddled with his fingers. Gabriel licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smirk. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He questioned. 

“Well, I’m trying to think of something to say, but all I can think about is how cute you are.” 

Gabriel looked at him, amused shock crossing his face. He straightened up for a minute, but, before he could say anything, Dean held his hands up. 

“That’s enough,” Dean interjected, glancing at (Y/N) and then at Gabriel. “Leave.” 

“But I’m having such a nice conversation,” 

“Gabriel,” Sam spoke up, moving between (Y/N) and Gabriel, towering over him. His voice was low, intimidating. “Go.” 

Gabriel raised his hands in mock surrender. He snapped his fingers and disappeared in front of the brothers. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave,” Gabriel’s voice came from behind the trio. 

They all turned around. Gabriel stood right before (Y/N), eyes attached to him. He reached behind his back for a brief moment and pulled it back around. In his hand was a red rose with a short stem, free of prickles. He held it out. 

“A parting gift, for you.” 

(Y/N) hesitantly took him, a small smile on his face. “Thank you,” 

Gabriel shrugged. “I know it’s not as beautiful as you, but it’s the best I can do for now.” 

“Gabriel,” Dean warned. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Gabriel shook his head. “I hope to see you again soon, sweetheart,” He pointed at (Y/N).

“We’ll see.” 

Gabriel winked before he snapped his fingers and disappeared from the room. 

The room was quiet aside from the faint humming of the cheap air conditioner. (Y/N) studied the rose that Gabriel had given him. It appeared freshly in bloom, the red petals curled at the ends, the floral scent evident even from a distance. The stem was slightly wet from being cut. (Y/N) brought the flower to his nose and inhaled the intoxicating smell as he turned around to face his brothers. When he looked up, he immediately noticed the ‘if looks could kill’ gaze in their eyes. 

“What?” (Y/N) asked and shrugged. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

“What?” 

“You know,” Dean began. “I’ve stopped butting in when you flirt with someone at a bar, or when you want to take someone back to a motel. I’ve learned to shut my mouth. But Gabriel?” 

“Geez, you two are acting like I’ve slept with him.” (Y/N) scoffed, brushing past them as he walked toward his bed. 

“Ooo, all I can think about is how cute you are,” Dean mocked.

“Will you shut up!?” 

“He’s an archangel, (Y/N).” Sam nodded. “And you see no problem with flirting with him?” 

“What? I can’t flirt with who I want now? It’s not like he’s a bad guy…technically.” 

Dean sighed. “He’s off limits, (Y/N).” 

“I’m an adult, Dean! I can flirt with whoever I want.” 

“Not an angel! I mean…come on. Don’t you remember what he did to us? To Sammy and me?” 

“Look, Dean, I get it, trust me, but it was just some comments, okay? Like I said, it’s not like I hooked up with him or anything. He just flirted with me so I flirted back. Took a page out of my Dean Winchester book of flirting.” (Y/N) walked over to the bed and sat down on the side of it. “You don’t have to worry about him, okay? Now, why don’t you guys just take your showers so we can go to bed and head out in the morning.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He let out a huff as he turned to look at Sam. They stared at each other, but said nothing, as if they were talking to one another telepathically. Finally, Dean shook his head. 

“Fine, but I get the next shower,” Dean mumbled as he sauntered over to the duffel bag that sat beside the queen-sized bed opposite (Y/N).

“Dean, I called the next shower,” Sam frowned. 

“Too bad, can’t get next shower if I get there first,” 

Sam glanced at the door to the bathroom, his duffel bag which sat at the table, and then Dean. Dean grabbed his night clothes from his bag and began to make his way over to the bathroom. Quickly, Sam rushed to the bathroom. Dean picked up his speed and the two of them wrestled in the doorway for a moment, mumbling to one another. Sam eventually pushed Dean out of the way and slammed the door shut, the cheap wood vibrating against the frame. Dean growled. 

“How the Hell are you going to get out of there without your clothes, bitch?” He called through the door. 

“I’ll figure it out, jerk,” Sam’s muffled voice replied. 

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes before he sauntered over to his bed and slouched on the edge of it. “Can you believe him?” He gestured to the door dramatically. 

(Y/N) snorted. “I think you’re both idiots,” he reached down and pulled the comforter away from his body, pushing his legs underneath. “Now hush while I get some sleep.” 

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight,” Dean grumbled. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” 

*~*

The rumble of the Impala’s engine was silenced over the deafening sound of Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”. Dean sang in an off-key tune as he drove, Sam tried to ignore him in the passenger’s seat, and (Y/N) blocked everything out, deep in thought as he leaned against the back passenger’s window. He was staring off into the distance, at the long line of trees and bushes they passed, but none of it registered. His mind was elsewhere. 

He was thinking about Gabriel. 

It had been a week since their interaction, and, for the life of him, he couldn’t keep the angel out of his mind. He never had someone who showed as much interest in him as Gabriel, and (Y/N) hadn’t lied. Gabriel was pretty cute. Was it the way the smirk seemed permanently etched on his lips? Perhaps the way his flirtatious remarks flowed out as smoothly as they did. Maybe it was in the look in his eye when he asked to see him again. 

Regardless, there seemed to be nothing that could take Gabriel off of his mind. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s boisterous voice echoed through the car. 

(Y/N) jerked his head up to look at his brother in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t even noticed the music had been turned down, now softly playing in the background. 

“What?” 

“Man, I’ve called your name about ten times. You okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just…thinking.” 

“Yeah, I know that takes a lot out of you.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” (Y/N) scrunched his nose as he reached over and lightly kicked the back of Dean’s seat.

“Hey! Be nice to Baby! She didn’t do anything to you.” 

“Yeah, well, she was caught in the crossfire.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Sam’s pretty sure we have another ghost case.” 

(Y/N) groaned. “Another one?” 

“Yeah, just a simple salt and burn.” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently this young couple, who just bought their house, has been reporting paranormal activity at their place. The husband’s mother even came to stay with them for a little while and, while she was there, she claimed that someone pushed her down the stairs when she was going to do laundry in the basement.” 

“So? Her son tried to kill her to get the life insurance money. Doesn’t sound like a ghost hunt to me.” (Y/N) said. 

“Husband was at work, and so was the wife. They even have alibis and security footage to prove it.” 

“Okay, so then the mother’s old and cryptic and just fell down the stairs. Old people fall down the stairs every day, that’s why Life Alert was invented.” 

“She’s forty-two.” 

“Jesus, how old is her son?” 

“Twenty-one. His wife is twenty. High-school sweethearts according to what the newspaper says.” 

“Gross.” There was a pause. “I still don’t think it sounds like our thing. Maybe we should check something else out.” 

“You’re not getting out of the salt and burn, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) groaned and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed lazily over his chest. “Fine! But I’m not doing the digging. I’ll be on guard duty.” 

“No,” Dean said. “I’m going to be on guard duty this time.” 

“Why?” He whined childishly.

“Because I helped dig the grave the last two times. We take shifts, remember?” 

(Y/N) shook his head. He placed his elbow on the window sill and put his cheek into the palm of his right hand. His forehead leaned against the glass. 

He thought back to Gabriel. The carefree attitude he seemed to have, even with the intimidating act that his brothers put on. He was an archangel, of course. Thinking about it, (Y/N) knew that Gabriel could do anything with them - he had proven that when he forced Sam and Dean into the TV universe - yet he did nothing of the sort, even when Dean had slapped his hand away from (Y/N). He seemed like a good person - angel? - and (Y/N) would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see him again. He knew that if anyone could lighten his mood from the sour situation they were driving to, it would be Gabriel. 

An arm slowly snaked its way around (Y/N)’s shoulders. He jumped, eyes wide as he turned his head to the side. Sitting next to him, in the back of the Impala, was Gabriel, the same smirk on his face that was present the first night they met. 

“Heard someone needed some company,” Gabriel said. 

Dean visibly jerked, his hand turning the wheel of the car violently. The Impala lurched to the side, into the oncoming lane, before he corrected himself and straightened the car out. Everyone shifted in their seats with the movement. Dean slammed on the brakes, the rubber screeching against the road as the car halted. Dean and Sam’s heads whipped around, their eyes wide with surprise. Gabriel was leaning back against the leather seats, legs slightly spread, one arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders while the other rested at his side. (Y/N) could feel his heart pounding in his chest from a mixture of the sudden movement of the car and Gabriel’s touch. 

“Woah, Dean-O. Gotta be careful. You’re lucky there’s no traffic,” Gabriel chuckled. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean asked, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. 

“A little birdy told me he was lonely. A little stressed,” Gabriel turned his head to look at (Y/N). He leaned closer to him. “Miss me already?” 

Dean and Sam’s eyes shifted to their brother. (Y/N) felt the familiar heat appear in his cheeks and spread to his ears. Sam furrowed his brows. 

“You prayed to him?” He asked. 

“N-No! I didn’t!” (Y/N) defended. 

“Wrong,” Gabriel hummed. “You know, every time you say my name in that pretty little head of yours, it comes straight to me,” Gabriel reached over and tapped on (Y/N)’s temple gently. “My prayer line has been buzzing nonstop since I last saw you.” 

(Y/N)’s cheeks darkened even more. Gabriel had practically outed him to his brothers, completely contradicting what he had told them back at the motel. That they didn’t need to worry about him. That the flirty comments he made was a natural response. Now his brothers know that Gabriel had been on his mind. Now they knew that they had something to worry about. 

Dean’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Eventually, he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, undoubtedly trying to clear his mind. When he opened his eyes, he pointed at his brother. 

“You. We’ll talk later.” He turned to Gabriel. “You. Get out.” 

“Aw, come on, Dean, let me ride for a little bit. Make your brother feel better,” Gabriel rubbed (Y/N)’s arm.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “No. Get out.” His voice was deep, dark. 

Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go. Again.” 

“Good,” Dean turned around eyes back to the empty road in front of him. His hands returned to the wheel, clenched tight enough to make his knuckles a ghostly white. 

Gabriel glanced at (Y/N) with an apologetic expression before he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his clenched hand and held it towards him. As he opened his hand, (Y/N) could see a small candy heart in the middle of it, colored pink. In the center of the heart Be Mine was printed. 

“Another parting gift. A sweetheart for a sweetheart.” Gabriel smirked. 

(Y/N) smiled and took the heart. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for you, sugar.” 

“Leave Gabriel,” Dean bellowed. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” He grumbled. He looked back at (Y/N) and winked. “I’ll see you later.” 

He snapped and, once more, he was gone. 

(Y/N) glanced down towards the candy. It was one of those cheap candies that you got from Walmart when you wanted to give something out to your classmates for Valentine’s Day. Despite the cheap appearance, the message on it was worth more than anything. It validated any emotions that he had for Gabriel. The mere idea that Gabriel felt the same way as he did made his heart soar, the butterflies swarming inside of his stomach. With a small smile, he closed his hand around the heart and placed his hand in his lap. 

It was then that he noticed they hadn’t resumed their drive yet. He looked in the front seat to see both of his brothers staring at them, unamused expressions on their faces. The smile (Y/N) had turned into an awkward grin, his shoulders tensed. Sam and Dean looked at one another and conversed in that telepathic communication that they always do before they wordlessly turned back to the road. Dean glanced one more time in the rear-view mirror, shook his head, and then started down the road again. 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped and he turned to the window. He placed his elbow on the window sill and his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

It was going to be a long night. 

*~*

I fucking hate ghosts. 

His muscles hurt worse than last time. If he didn’t know any better, he would say his arms felt as if they were going to fall off. His calves ached a bit, but not nearly as bad as his biceps. 

The hunt took longer than expected - most of the graves in the cemetery they had gone to were unmarked, souls long since forgotten by the people who had buried them. The records in the cemetery’s office weren’t much help, either. The three of them spent two hours trying to find the grave that belonged to the ghost, two more hours digging up the plot with major pushback from the spirit, and an extra hour attempting to leave the cemetery without getting caught - apparently, grave robbers were a common occurrence in that small Maryland town. 

Even the morning after, (Y/N)’s entire body ached and was stiff. It felt like every part of him had been put through a meat grinder. When he moved, his muscles tensed and burned as if he were on the surface of a thousand suns. His brothers felt bad for him, in a way. They could see how hurt he was and decided to let him rest while they went out to get some breakfast, some greasy diner food that all of them, even Sam, desperately needed. 

As (Y/N) lay in his bed, still clad in his sleepwear from the night before, to ignore the aches and pain, his mind shifted to a familiar thought; Gabriel. 

The same thoughts that had been invading his mind for the past two weeks entered his head seamlessly. The thoughts of Gabriel’s words, his flirtatious tone, the way his hair was swept back, the way the corner of his lips curled into a smirk whenever he would look at him, and the glimmer that danced in his irises. While Gabriel took up most of his mind, another thing that (Y/N) couldn’t get out of his mind was Sam and Dean. He thought about their disapproving gazes, the irritation in their tone as they talked to or about Gabriel, and the shake of their heads when Gabriel finally vanished. 

His brothers weren’t shy when it came to their objections. When they had gotten into town for the hunt, Sam and Dean made sure to speak out about the situation. (Y/N) felt as if he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dean was the one that was mostly vocal with Sam taking a back seat and butting in now and then. While (Y/N) could appreciate that his brothers were looking out for him, he stood strong on the fact that he was an adult. He could make his own decisions. Gabriel was an angel. It wasn’t as if he was flirting with a demon. He knew his brothers would have a conniption if it was Crowley instead of Gabriel. Still, (Y/N) was their little brother. He had a feeling that they were going to be protective no matter who he showed interest in. 

That wouldn’t stop him from trying to pursue Gabriel, though. 

In the two instances they met, Sam and Dean had been in the room with them when they talked, leaving little to no time for them to have an actual conversation or get to know one another. Granted, Gabriel must know more about him than anything, considering the lack of privacy he had in his head. That only gave him more of an incentive to learn everything he could about the archangel. 

He had to talk to Gabriel alone. 

(Y/N) had never prayed before. He always left his brothers to the praying when they needed Castiel involved. It was a new experience, and he didn’t even know how to start. 

Slowly, (Y/N) adjusted himself on the bed so that his back was pressed against the wooden headboard. He placed his hands in his lap, slightly folded. 

“Um…Gabriel…” he trailed as he tried to think of how he could continue. “Uh…it’s me. (Y/N). I think we need to talk.” 

“You know, the last time someone said that to me, it didn’t end well,” Gabriel’s voice came from in front of him, near the end of the bed. 

(Y/N) let out an audible gasp, startled. His throbbing muscles tensed for a moment before they relaxed, a shot of pain coursing through his body. 

“Jesus, we need to put a bell on you angels,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

“I’ve been thinking about that. Do you think it’ll look good on me?” Gabriel pursed his lips and dramatically posed. 

(Y/N) snorted and shook his head as he chuckled. Gabriel joined him and walked over to the bed, sitting down. The bed dipped. 

“I can see your bodyguards aren’t here.” 

“Yeah, they went out to get some breakfast a bit ago.” 

“Well, that’s good. Now I can talk to you without getting kicked out. What did you want to talk about anyway?” 

“Well-” 

“My handsome good looks?” Gabriel smirked. 

“Uh-”

“How about my smooth talking?” 

“Gabriel-”

“What about the way you get butterflies in your stomach when you’re near me?” Gabriel placed a hand on the bed and leaned closer to him. 

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks heat up once again. The butterflies Gabriel referenced swarmed. He looked away for a moment before his eyes shifted down towards his hands in his lap. 

“Gabriel.” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you like me?” He moved his eyes to him. 

Gabriel seemed surprised by the question at first, straightening himself up. 

“I mean…” (Y/N) paused, attempting to collect his thoughts. “You flirted with me back at the other motel, you had your arm wrapped around me in the car, you’ve been listening to my thoughts, er, prayers, I guess. Is this just…a flirty little thing that you like to do or…are you really interested in me?” 

“Of course I am,” Gabriel shrugged. “I mean, you don’t see me flirting with your brothers, do you?” 

“No.” 

“Casual flirting isn’t normally my thing. When I flirt with someone, I really, really like them, and I really, really like you.” His voice was deep and smooth like velvet. 

(Y/N) smiled, his eyes never leaving Gabriel’s face, despite the bashful need to do so. “Well, I hope it helps that I really, really like you, too.” 

“Oh, trust me, I can tell,” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” 

Gabriel chuckled as he reached over, his hand gently caressing his cheek. Their lips connected without another comment. (Y/N) closed his eyes and, almost immediately, melted into the kiss. He could feel a warm, tingling sensation course through his body, touching down his arms, torso, and legs. Their lips moved in sync. (Y/N) raised his hands, his fingers entangled in Gabriel’s silky hair. 

(Y/N) pulled away before he wanted to, the need for air overwhelming. He stared deep into Gabriel’s whiskey eyes. It didn’t take long before that smirk reappeared. (Y/N)’s thumb gently brushed over Gabriel’s scruff. 

“Your kiss is even sweeter than you are,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone. 

“Oh, please, nothing is sweeter than me,” 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Kiss me again.” 

“With pleasure.” 

Gabriel leaned in and kissed him once more. He moved onto the bed so that his legs were on either side of (Y/N)’s body and he hovered over him. (Y/N) took the time to wrap his arms around Gabriel’s neck gently. They tilted their heads to the side, deepening the kiss. 

(Y/N) had his fair share of kisses before, a handful of them drunken mishaps at various bars across the country, but never like the one he had with Gabriel. There was something special about it. Something that made him melt into the bed. That attracted him further to Gabriel. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wasn’t going to fight it. 

Although, someone might. 

The door to the motel room opened. The stench of cheap breakfast food wafted into the small space as Sam and Dean entered. They froze for a moment, eyes wide in shock at what they had walked in on. It didn’t take long for them to break the trance. 

“Hey!” Dean shouted as he rushed over to the two of them. 

Just as they broke the kiss, Dean grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt, pulled him off of the bed, and pinned him against the wall. The cheap lights flickered at the force of the impact. 

“Dean!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he quickly stood from the bed. 

Before he could pull his brother away, Sam grabbed him by the arm, pulled him close, and wrapped his arms around him protectively. 

“What did I tell you about leaving my brother alone, huh?” Dean slammed Gabriel against the wall again, though he seemed completely unphased by it. 

“Now, Dean, if you haven’t noticed, your brother is more than capable of making his own choices.” Gabriel’s voice was calm, almost playful. 

“Yeah, with humans. Not with you.” 

“Now what have I ever done to you, Dean?” 

“What have you done?” Dean let out a dry laugh. “What have you done?” 

“Dean! Stop! You’re gonna get the fucking cops called on us!” (Y/N) hissed between clenched teeth. 

“And you!” Dean let go of Gabriel’s shirt and turned around to face (Y/N). “What happened to ‘oh, you don’t have to worry about anything, Dean, it was just for fun’,” he mocked (Y/N)’s voice harshly. “And then Sam and I come in and see you sucking face with an archangel!?” 

“First of all,” (Y/N) wiggled his arms out from Sam’s grasp. “Get off me,” he mumbled and pushed firmly on Sam’s chest. Sam’s feet were firmly planted, but he removed his arms from around his brother. (Y/N) backed up a couple of steps and brushed his shirt off. “I told you, Dean, I’m an adult and I can make your own decisions! And who the Hell says ‘sucking face’ anymore, anyway? What is this? 1980?” 

“The point is, you told us you weren’t going to do anything and here you are…doing something!” Dean pointed an accusing finger at him. 

“Dean’s right, (Y/N),” Sam shook his head. “You know, we support you in everything that you do, but Gabriel?” 

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Gabriel appeared behind (Y/N). 

“Good, I hope you do,” Dean said. 

(Y/N) groaned. “You guys are acting like you walked in on me having sex with him or something! It was a kiss!” 

“His tongue was in your mouth, (Y/N),” Dean spoke with a hint of disgust.

“Shut the fuck up, Dean!” 

“Alright, alright, hey,” Sam held up his hands. “Look. All we want to do is look out for you, okay? It’s our job to protect you.” 

“And I want you guys to keep protecting me,” (Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to. I like Gabriel, okay? I really do. And it’s not just some hook-up in-a-bar kind of feeling. It’s feelings-feelings. You know? The things we never talk about? I can’t explain it, but I feel…a connection to him. Like Dean feels with Castiel.” 

“Woah, woah, hold on. I don’t feel that way with Cas.” 

“Dean, we all know you do,” Gabriel spoke up, shaking his head. 

Dean clenched his jaw. “I don’t wanna hear another word out of you.” 

“Look,” Gabriel began. “I’d never do anything to hurt your brother. I know I haven’t been the, well, nicest with you two. But I like (Y/N),” Gabriel shrugged. “I’d like to get to know him more, and I know that he would like to do the same.”

Sam and Dean stared at Gabriel, their eyes piercing. They never blinked, as if studying him. Sam leaned over to Dean. 

“Dean, I think he’s telling the truth,” Sam spoke in a low voice. 

Dean looked at Sam with furrowed brows. “Really?” His tone was defensive. “How do you know he’s not lying?” 

“Dean, (Y/N) is right about the fact that he’s an adult, okay? Maybe we should just…take a backseat on this?” 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

“I hate this just as much as you do, Dean, but you know that even if we disagree with is, (Y/N) is just going to find a way to see him anyway.” 

“Not if we handcuff him to one of us,” Dean mumbled. 

“I’m right here,” (Y/N) crossed his arms. 

“The point is,” Sam said. “If Gabriel is serious, what better person besides us to protect him than an archangel? I mean, we have Cas, yes, but Cas isn’t an archangel.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but was having a hard time coming up with an argument to shoot back at his brother’s statement. Instead, he sighed as he reached a hand up and ran it down his face. He could feel a headache coming on. Silence flooded the room as the four of them stood there. 

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “I won’t say anything about Gabriel coming around. But I don’t wanna walk in on anymore face sucking.” 

“No face sucking or any other kind of sucking while sharing a room, got it.” (Y/N) smiled. 

Dean shot him a look of disgust before he turned to Gabriel. “And you. If you hurt him-” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Fire and brimstone and pitchforks and torches. You’ll have the whole Winchester Army after me,” Gabriel waved his hands around dramatically. “I get it. You have my word that I will never hurt your brother.” 

“Alright, now get out of here before I change my mind.” 

“I won’t fight you on that,” Gabriel turned to (Y/N). He reached down, grabbed his hand, and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. “I’ll see you later, sugarplum.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “See you later, Casanova.” 

Gabriel winked before he snapped his fingers and vanished. 

With a smile still on his face, (Y/N) turned to his brothers. “Thank you guys, really.” 

“Well, we trust you, (Y/N),” Sam said. “We don’t trust him, but we trust you. And we trust that, if anything were to happen, you would come to us if you need help.” 

“Of course I will. You’re my brothers. I make a mess, you guys clean it up.” 

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ll be the reason why I get gray hairs early in life,” Dean mumbled as he sauntered over to the small table near the motel door, opening the bag of breakfast food which was probably cold by then. 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he walked over to him. “Oh, you mean, these gray hairs?” He reached up and brushed the back of his brother’s hairline, finger gliding through the sandy blonde hair. 

Dean reached back quickly and cupped the back of his head. “What!?” He exclaimed. 

Sam snorted and (Y/N) let out a boisterous laugh. Dean’s jaw clenched as he lowered his hand to his side. 

“Ha-ha, very funny.” 

“I thought so, old man.” 

“You better watch it, bitch,” 

“Aw, I love you, too, Dean,” (Y/N) wrapped a single arm loosely around Dean’s middle. He then motioned Sam over. When Sam was close enough, (Y/N) wrapped his other arm around him. “And I love you, Sammy.” 

“Love you, too, (Y/N),” Sam smiled and returned the hug. 

Dean looked down at his brother and mumbled something under his breath before he patted him on the back. “Yeah, yeah, love you too, kid.” 

“I couldn’t ask for better brothers than you.” 

…

“Alright, enough of the chick-flick moments. Let’s eat.”

[theknightmarket]

I still think about Chase Me a lot and it.

Hmgh. 🙏

Not a lot of Murdock content that goes into his potential motives.

"You're a special case."

In which Murdock's cat and mouse chase comes to an end. TW: cursing, mention of murder Pages: 16 - Words: 6,500

[Requests: OPEN]

They got him.

They got him.

They’d trapped him in a corner and wrapped the cuffs around his wrists. He was sitting in a cell, chained to the desk, waiting to be interrogated.

If they hadn’t called you, you would have forced your way into the police department anyway, regulations be damned. But they were smart, or maybe they just remembered the last time you were kept from the end of your case – either way, you had been writing up a very particular, very private report when your phone began to ring. You nearly didn’t answer it, too determined to finish off the last paragraph of the page before someone could interrupt, but it buzzed once, twice, thrice, and then you grabbed the thing and pressed the call button. Your mouth hung open at the half-way point of a cursing out when the officer who called you spurted out the very words that kept ringing through your head like a church bell.

They got him.

They had captured the Serotonin Serial Killer, and he was waiting in interrogation room C to be questioned by a detective. You made the forty-five-minute drive into twenty, flashed your badge at the receptionist, and didn’t say a word to anyone as you dashed through the hallways of the bustling building. Officers pressed themselves against the wall to avoid being barreled into, knowing you were on the warpath just from the look on your face. Though, it was no secret where you were headed. Your little stint with the man of the hour was kept between the two of you, but people had picked up on your sudden determination to solve the cases. When you worked sixteen-hour shifts, whispers took your place in leaving your office building and returning to your apartment. Rumors spread, some nice, some rude, all patents of the news agency; apparently one of his victims was your sister or uncle or second cousin thrice removed, because it gave you a motive and you were obviously the most important in the case to grant one. Never mind the guy slitting the public’s throats, the detective who was doing their job had to have a personal reason.

But your gripes with the press and other detectives were nothing you were focused on; distantly, you heard the taps of your shoes against the clean tiles towards the room, the times new-roman C blazing against the white wallpaper outside of a locked door.

You opened it without a second thought.

“It’s you.”

“You sound surprised, sweetheart.”

Murdock sat there, as you expected, chained, as you expected, grinning from ear to ear, as you expected. You imagined he was the first to be smiling so wide in the cold steel of a police chair, bound to the table in front of him. He was still adorned in his usual outfit, a red turtleneck and black trench coat, with blood splatters barely noticeable even in the scrutinous glaring of energy-efficient lights. The only thing that put you ill at ease was the crack in his sunglasses. It brewed a pit in the bottom of your stomach as your thoughts fled to assumptions that only helped to deepen it.

But you didn’t verbalize your suspicions that someone had put a hand on the man before you, the only indication that it crossed your mind being the heightening of your shoulders and an overtaking scowl. Instead, you simply locked the door behind you and dropped into the chair across from him. “You got caught,” you stated bluntly, his eyes following your descent, and it felt wrong to be able to see part of his iris.

“I did,” Murdock admitted. “Well done, you cuffed me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

You couldn’t keep the venom out of your tone, but you didn’t entirely want to. What you wanted to do was find the officer who caught him, ask them how they did it, and then find out exactly how his glasses got shattered so you could repay the favor. You assumed the plan came from your innate distaste of the police force and the rest of the detectives – you relied on the idea so that the thought could pass your mind without worry for the real sentiment behind it. And it almost did.

Murdock, helpfully, brought it back. “Jealous that you’re not the only detective in my life?”

“And if I am?”

“I’d appreciate it.” Damn his charming smile. He leaned forward in his seat, balancing his head on one of his hands, and flashed his grin at you like some kind of reward. It made you tense up, aided by the chill of the metal chair but by no means outweighed by it. You didn’t like this. The uncertainty of your emotions. In your last encounter, you were so certain of your anger towards him and his constant evading of capture, and yet there you were, with the man himself in front of you and definitely captured, fighting a losing battle against your own mind to convince yourself you weren’t swayed by him.

“Good thing I’m not, then.” You ignored the spark in Murdock’s eyes that hinted at his doubt. “How’d you get caught?”

“I killed somebody.” You almost laughed. It wasn’t as though he would be in the same room as you for shoplifting given his track record, but you let him continue without interruption, “Jemimah Pims. Fraud. I got spotted going into her office by a receptionist.”

You knew the name. Pims was big in public service chains that weren’t fast-food; she’d always hated the things, so she pulled a complete 180 and threw herself into high-class wine bars and five-star restaurants. Go figure, she didn’t start those businesses with legal money in her pocket, and that was where Murdock came in. The issue was that you didn’t believe that was his place. You’d seen him take revenge for affairs, prejudiced, miscarriages of justice – not money laundering. And getting a witness?

He must have misinterpreted your skeptical expression, because he followed himself up with, “She’s perfectly fine. Probably clearing up a couple of meetings that are going to go unattended.”

That didn’t help quell your suspicions. Of course, the receptionist was indeed alive, she had been the one to report him, after all, but that wasn’t the part you doubted.

“Let me rephrase that; why’d you get caught?”

You hit the nail on the head. The missing shard of his glasses was enough for you to see his iris, and that was enough for you to see his true feelings. That must have been why he kept them on so much, but they weren’t helping him now. Any excuse he might have made was wiped off the drawing board, and he knew that, too.

Almost reluctantly, he answered, “You’ve been awfully busy lately.”

“You can’t just kill someone because you want attention.” You interrupted a useless continuation that he didn’t even get to start. Of course, you had been busy in recent weeks, but that meant you had enough on your plate already without him piling it sky high.

A few days after your interaction on the roof of the theater, you were handed a case file from the higher-ups. Manila folder, top secret stamp, the whole cliché that made you want to bash your head into your desk. Your actual desk, mind you, the one that had been slightly bloodied by James Pratt. Everything was cleared up relatively fast, the funeral was scheduled for two months’ time, and you were back to work like it had never happened, like there was never a body of a friend draining into the floorboards. That folder, though, pushed it further back into the recesses of your mind; it was a political assassination attempt that you were shocked it landed on your task list. However, it was definitely there, and it was definitely high up on the list, so much so that you barely had time for yourself, let alone the serial killer watching you from another office building’s fourth floor. You supposed that Murdock reached his boiling point quicker than you.

One of your hands leapt to the bridge of your nose while the other ran through your hair. This job was pure stress without a serial killer giving you bodies because he wanted you to look at him.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He stretched out his hands in an attempt at a shrug, but the cuffs limited how far his dramatics could go. To compensate, he brought his ankles up to cross them over the table. You could already feel the headache brewing, and the incompetence of the cops around you was certainly not helping. Hadn’t they read a single guidebook or, hell, watched a crime movie? It didn’t have to be one of the good ones, either, for them to figure it out that the criminal needed to be chained by the arms and legs to the table. You were so, so close to wringing someone’s neck – whether that was Murdock or the incompetent police. Really, anyone within a twenty-foot radius was at risk.

But you couldn’t, no matter how much your hands itched at the thought. Instead, you took a long, deep breath, in and out and in and out. A pitiful chuckle bubbled up in your throat. “Jealous that you’re not the only serial killer in my life?” you asked, somewhere between sarcastic and genuine.

“Yes.”

Too bad.

“So, what now?” you asked, to which you only got a raised eyebrow in response. “You’re in a police station, Serotonin.” His pout became more noticeable. “How do you plan to get out of this one?”

“Who says I plan to get out of it?”

“You wouldn’t sacrifice your entire career to get some one-on-one time with me. You’re not stupid.”

There was a glint of pride peeking out from the edge of the sunglasses. The rest reflected back onto him, but it was enough for you to see, notice, and feel the rush of blood to your cheeks and ears. Your moral compass told you it was wrong, behind wrong, to be happy with his silent praise, but that thing was long since broken. You wouldn’t trust it to tell you the ethics of kicking a child into the road to stop a wayward fruit cart.

“Hmm, well, as much as I’d like to, you’re right; I can’t just abandon it all for one person, no matter how gorgeous they are.” You had half a mind to find an ice bucket to dunk yourself in. If only to yourself, you would admit you didn’t get complimented often – on your work or otherwise. It wasn’t for a lack of anything, but the general verdict wherever you went was to never initiate conversation unless someone didn’t like the look of their head on their shoulders. It happened often in the detective department, and that was where you spent the majority of your time – the rest was in your apartment, alone and whiling away hours until you got back to work.

But you weren’t allowed to dwell on that depressing thought for much long, before Murdock started talking again, leaning as far back into his chair as the cuffs let him go. “There are moles in the police, sweetheart,” he teased, “you said it yourself. Not one person here can’t be bought or blackmailed. The boys standing outside this two-way mirror, for example.” He turned to smile in the direction of that very mirror. You couldn’t see the officers outside, obviously, but you could imagine them sweating through their blue jackets, not only because they were caught but because Murdock had that look. The one that told whoever he was staring at that this would be their last day, like making eye contact with the grim reaper. Except instead of a bleached skull and hollow pits, he was a beautiful masterpiece come to coax you into the ‘sweet embrace of death’, as the saying went.

“I can taste the corruption from here. It didn’t take long to find out about the affairs and gambling.”

“I thought your whole thing was indiscriminatory vigilante justice. Moles don’t count?”

Vividly, the body of Pratt sprang to your mind. Still warm on the floor of your office. Head turned so that his check was mashed into against the grain. Eyes glassy like a frosted window.

Even though his gaze returned to you, you felt his words pierce the air as knives thrown to the mirror. “Oh, they do. I’ll kill them when I’m done here.”

Murdock was happy with himself. Proud of his work that rewarded him with this scene – two police officers paling from behind a wall, a detective sitting across him wearing a blush and a scowl, and himself haphazardly chained to the table. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. He sometimes, on the days when things were, the days when he was positioning old bodies or stalking new ones, when he had time to himself, he wondered what it the outcome would have been had it not been you assigned to his case. He couldn’t imagine the boredom; he didn’t give a damn about the press or the public, whether they were scared of him or in awe. When he first started this whole thing, he hadn’t even cared about the people chasing him, and, mostly, he still didn’t. But then there was you. A grizzled detective with a chip on their shoulder and enough experience with the law to sate thirty juniors. Murdock loved his job, but you made it that little bit more interesting.

Only, he could have done without your next question.

“Do I count?”

His head shifted to stare directly at you, his shattered focus pulled into one place, your expression of curiosity, doubt, a tinge of daring.

You continued, that tell-me-I’m-wrong look overtaking the rest of the emotions, “I let you get away with de Gaille and Lochlin. Doesn’t that make me a killer by association?”

Technically, he supposed it did. After all, he’d killed people for less. However, that wasn’t meant to be your ending. You weren’t supposed to be a pig on a hook in the butcher’s backroom.

“You’re a special case, love.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to help me get out.”

Your immediate thought was to resist. Mouth open to tell him a stern no and legs ready to storm from the room, you were sure Murdock saw, but he didn’t act. He just watched as your shoulders heightened and your grimace deepened. He just watched as you stayed seated, though the discomfort showed. 

“Your boys can’t do that?” you asked.

He shook his head. “They’re at the window because two officers have to be. They won’t go near me with a ten-foot pole, or without a foot of concrete between us.” A light chuckle bled into his words, accompanied by the flash of an eye and the corner of his lip perking up. “You, though, have been much, much closer. And you have nothing for me to play on, except for a little bit of affection.”

“Affection, is that what it is?” the scoff escaped you before you processed his words, and it was just as well. You didn’t want a serial killer to know he was – on the most basic level and not even that much and only if you wanted to actually define it and you certainly didn’t – correct. You did feel something for the man sitting before you, leaning casually back in the steel chair of the interrogation room, but you wouldn’t admit it aloud.

“Romantic, sexual, aesthetic, whatever your attraction is. It stops you from letting me fry, as you like to put it.”

“It stops me from letting you die, but that’s where it ends. Locking you up, I’m fine with that.” You were getting faster, pitifully desperate to prove to him, to yourself, to the two officers standing outside that you were not tied to him in any way. You had no reservations about keeping him behind bars. Despite that, it wasn’t the thought at the forefront of your mind – pride and place belonged to the reassurance that it wasn’t that simple. For one second, you assumed that you did enjoy his company and looking at him and his charismatic whisperings that set something aflame in your heart. You still couldn’t abandon everything to run after this maniac. You couldn’t. You couldn’t.

“Are you?”

Were you?

A horrible feeling of dread washed over you, thrown to-and-fro in the rush of the river Styx, your lungs filled with water, and you struggled to keep afloat. It wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be. There were so many other factors at play. Your life, his life, his job, shit, your job. You were a detective sent to wrap the handcuffs around Murdock’s wrists.

As if he sensed your crumbling façade of calm, he pushed, “You’ll have to pick a side, of course.” You hated to admit it, but the choice would be easy, if you could convince yourself to acknowledge that you did have a choice. Left or right. You didn’t have to consider the nuance of it all, no matter how much you wanted to. The answer your heart made for you blazed in your mind, but trails of fog tried to cover it with questions and consequences.

“Sitting on the fence isn’t an option.” His tone was strangely gentle, like coaxing an injured animal from their hiding place. “If you let me out or if you lug me to a cell yourself, I’ll know where you stand. Hell, I’ll even give you a week to change your mind. But you can’t just leave and wash your hands of it all.”

Responsibility. That was the thing at the crux of his decisions. Who lived and who died all depended on responsibility. The corrupt decided their own sentences when they played both sides off against each other. Police and aristocracy, politicians and the church. The hypocrites were the ones with their necks on the block, and Murdock wielded the axe. He hoped that you would see that, and maybe, if you wanted to, find a handle for yourself.

The distance between the two of you seemed to close. The desk turned to mist. The walls around you felt as though they’d constricted without you noticing.

“Think about it, love.” You didn’t need to think, that was the worst part. “You can go back to your boring job where you aren’t respected or cared about, and you can file reports about a teenager’s accidental arson while the bigger cases are picked off by fat cats who just want the reputation and money.” You didn’t need to be convinced. “Or you can come with me and use justice how it should be used. How you want to use it.”

Heart thundering in your chest so loud you thought it might burst – but then you wouldn’t have to make a decision so maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad – the rest of your body stayed paralyzed with fear. Not of Murdock, of course not, but of the fact that you wanted to go with him. In a split second, you’d made your choice, and you didn’t need his fancy words to encourage it. You weren’t some injured animal, you were a detective who had lost faith in the system, leaving only a struggle with your morals and upbringing to contest with, two things that were fading fast from your mind.

Meanwhile, Murdock struggled with the twitch of his hand that compelled him to comfort you. He had never been a sympathetic person – most murderers weren’t – but he didn’t like this look on you. At least, he liked it much less than the vivid rage you so often sported, particularly when it was for him. This was a distressed look that he didn’t mean to cause. Give him the fireworks and the explosions and the sparks, not the earthquakes that rocked the very place he stood and threatened to knock him off his feet entirely. Deep in his chest, he wanted to exchange that expression for anything else, but he found him options vastly limited by the cuffs. His mouth dropped open, seconds away from offering kind words, but they had done enough.

Luckily, that enough was in the direction that he wanted.

You didn’t speak as you got up from your chair and walked to the door. You lifted your hand but switched courses quickly, aiming not for the handle but for the ring of keys hanging on the wall next to it. One of them would unlock the handcuffs. One of them would set Murdock free and damn you to a life of crime in one movement. You had witnesses, after all, and your own conscience wouldn’t let you be a traitor to either side.

When you were close enough, he reached out to you. A hand caressed down your arm as far as the metal would let him go. His contact sparked against your skin while the clang of the cuffs hitting the table rang out in the room like a church bell. When he was free, he did the most unexpected thing you would ever believe he chose to do.

Murdock wrapped an arm around your waist and shifted the hand that was on your arm around your shoulder. He was surprisingly cozy, like a warm-blooded animal, in the din of the interrogation room. As you stood frozen, half from his action and half from the reality of your own setting in, he tightened his grip and dipped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, words muted by his closeness to you, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit. In fact, slowly, you drew your arms around him, too. 

“When we get home, we’re talking about this.”

He pulled back at that, barely enough for you to properly hear his question of, “Home?”

It went unanswered, but he had already gotten a sentence out of you, and that was much more than he could had ever expected. You propped your hands against his chest to subtly move him further from you, eyes cast down and expression downcast.

“Stay here.”

He followed your order easily, considering it was just him standing in the room while you left into the hallway. Both of you knew it would take just one turn of the key to lock him inside, a couple of steps to tell someone that he needed to be locked up as soon as possible, a quick course of action that would relieve you of all your guilt. Murdock wouldn’t hold you to it, because you still chose a side. It just wouldn’t be the one he wanted.

When you returned with a hat and jacket – and, unbeknownst to him, the image of those two officers paralyzed with fear seared into your mind’s eye – he felt his shoulders relax and a pleasant smile take over his lips. Pleasant wasn’t a word often used to describe anything to do with Murdock, but you had a strange way of breaking the norms, and he didn’t mind it one bit. He even let you manipulate his arms like a doll into the flimsy material before you dropped the cap onto his head. It dipped over his forehead slightly, so you adjusted it until you could just see his eyes out of the shadow.

“You don’t say a word until we’re out of this building and into my car,” you ordered, and Murdock thought it best to acquiesce. It was the least he could do after this whole situation that he put you in.

Briefly, he nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He had.

But the next course of action was simple; you left the keys on the hook as you opened the door, unceremoniously shoved Murdock by the shoulder into the hallway, and lead him into the entrance. You had never been more appreciative of the other officers’ reactions to you. Seeing them jump out of your direct path like they’d been set on fire was good for you, if not practically – given you were escorting a serial killer out of the precinct – then emotionally. Nobody tried to look at the man in step by your side, mostly because they were too afraid to cast their gaze anywhere near you. Before, you might have felt disappointed at the reaction, but, if Murdock was right, they were no better than you.

You really hoped he was right.

You made it to your car promptly, and he was soon to round the hood to get into the passenger seat while you swung the driver’s door open. You almost drove off without looking in your back seat, your hand still on the keys in your ignition when you noticed the pile of equipment in the middle of the bench. Duct-tape, zip-ties and lo-and-behold, your original gun. It was as clean as the day Murdock had taken it from you.

Speaking of – you turned to look at the man next to you, who wore the most sheepish expression you would have imagined fit on him.

 “Seriously?” you asked.

“I wanted to be prepared in case you put up a fight.”

“You were going to kidnap me?”

“Only for a day or two.” Your eyes narrowed, and he took that as a sign to rush to his own defense. “Just long enough for you to come around. I would never kill you.”

How comforting. It was weird that the thought was half-genuine; you were indeed glad that he had never planned on ending your life.

Sarcastic or not, you muttered a, “thanks,” as you pulled out from your parking space and started the journey home.

Murdock was a surprisingly quiet travelling companion. You expected him to be chatting your ear off about his latest kills, their crimes, their lives, their deaths, etcetera, etcetera. The only thing noise he made, though, was his humming along to the radio’s soft rock. Some instrumental had him tapping his fingers along the window’s edge in its rhythm. If you hadn’t been driving away from a police interrogation, it might have been sweet. And even if you were…

But the magic didn’t last forever. You pulled into your apartment’s parking lot, the three scuffed paint lines amongst those alleyway dumpsters and loose beer cans constituting for one, and you turned off the engine. You didn’t live in a nice part of town, you knew that, and you weren’t ashamed. Sure, you spent most of your time in your office, but that wasn’t because you were embarrassed to live in the building. It was just easier for you, to the point that your apartment was more of a second home, like the grandparents’ that you used to spend every second Wednesday at.

You locked your car door when you were out, then made your way to Murdock’s side.

“This is your place?” he asked, shutting his own door behind him.

“What, you’ve never seen it before?”

“I steered clear of your intimate life.”

The image of the equipment that was still in your backseat had you raising an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s where you draw the line?”

“I didn’t want to rush it.” You didn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, nor did you stop yourself from grabbing Murdock’s hand and tugging him towards the front of the building. From the outside, it looked like your standard run-down-rat-dream, but you’d taken the liberty of sprucing up your own rooms. It lessened the fear in your heart about showing your new partner – in crime.

Said man shot a look down to your hands. “No, I much prefer you doing this out of your own volition.”

The lobby of your building served its purpose. It had a reception table, a door to the breaker box and other things up-keep, and a staircase that led to the rest of the floors. There was only one other door on this level, which was for the owner’s place, but he was either hardly ever there or rotting on his couch, based on how little you saw of him. Another plus was that there were no cameras, but that was only a positive for right now. You would certainly be more worried about smuggling in a murderer had there been sufficient security measures.

So, with the ease of this mission, you took Murdock up to your apartment relatively easily. The other occupants of the building stayed put in their rooms as you went up the steps, before you stopped on the fifth floor. It took a second for you to fish your keys out of your pocket, but, when you had and you’d twisted them into the lock, Murdock let out a little whistle.

You were proud of the work you’d done to fix the place up. When you had first bought it, it was more of a trash dump than a living space – you hadn’t made it three steps without tripping on a bunch of tied up newspapers, which got you into the immediate mindset for clearing it up. The cleaning was over by the first day, the repairs by the third, and the refurbishment by the end of the week. All on your dime, mind you, but you were fine with that. It just meant that if and when you moved out, you would take everything with you.

Now, it was made into an actual home with crimson wallpaper, a plush couch, a bookcase in the corner and, the thing that Murdock took most notice of, an empty fish tank.

You closed the door behind Murdock as he sashayed to the centre of your front room.

“I didn’t see you as a fish owner,” he commented.

“I’m not.” You hung your jacket on the rack beside you. “Never spent enough time here to look after them.”

It was a sad tale you never liked to tell. Three betta fish and two weeks at the office was the most you let slip when people asked.

But, instead of asking, Murdock flopped back onto the cushions behind him and tucked his hands underneath his head. “Cozy.”

You were able to see his closed eyes when you sat on the coffee table. He looked peaceful, if you could ever call him peaceful. For a moment, you thought he might have checked out early and fell asleep.

His voice nearly startled you, but it only made you squint your eyes and cross your arms on your knees. “You wanted to talk,” he prompted.

“What’s the arrangement now?”

“I assume this is a one-bedroom and I don’t like sleeping on the couch.” He opened his eyes only to wink with the one you could see between the cracks of the glass.

You admonished him firmly. “Murdock.” For you, this was a turning point in your entire life. You didn’t believe in that second chance after death – not that you imagined you would get a good one after this – so you needed to make this count.

“There we go,” he whispered, a smug tone made by you finally saying his real name aloud.

As much as you’d like to continue his banter, easier now that you could actually talk to him in the privacy of your own home, you needed to be secure in your thought process. “Am I quitting my job?”

“Yes.” Blunt, but effective. That was better for you. “But you still have a week to mull it over. Not that I think you’ve made the wrong choice—” His hand jumped back to where it had once been in yours, “—You can do more work out here than you ever could as a detective.”

Whether that was true or not, you both believed it. Murdock had since his first kill, and you were steadily getting further and further from the fence.

“So, I’m joining you.”

“If you feel so inclined.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you like.”

“You’re being vague.”

“Sweetheart, this is your life.” As if to punctuate his point, he brought you closer by your hand. Your heart thudded in your chest while the memories from your first one-on-one flooded back. “You can come out stalking with me or go off on your own.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He was right. You assured yourself that, yes, this was your life. And you’d chosen to spend it taking the law into your own hands.

Now, your questions were for the simple act of asking questions. You needed time to process it, and listening to Murdock talk was surprisingly helpful. “Then why pull me off the force?”

“I saw what they were doing with you. You told me. I certainly won’t take credit for your work, and you’re not restrained by paperwork or legalities. I just wanted to open you up to more effective opportunities.” He leaned closer, almost out of his seat. “And, as much as I’ve loved our game of cat and mouse, it’s hard to carry on a relationship when you run the risk of shooting me anytime we meet. Although, I do love the danger. Complicated, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

When you’d first become a detective, you would have never imagined that your career would end like this. Shot in the line of duty, punched a higher up, retired at a nice, old age to a farm in the countryside. Those were the scenarios you’d thought up all those years ago. And yet, you liked this outcome. It filled you with some kind of excitement when you thought about finally dealing with the other detectives you’d seen. And Murdock, oh, Murdock, he was your favorite part.

That was why you didn’t need any encouragement to dive forward and connect your lips with his. He was immediately receptive to the kiss, using his hand to pull you towards him. All the stress of joining a murderer melted away with the contact. Sparks danced along your skin where he drew his other hand from your arm to your shoulder to your neck. Undoubtably, you were touch-starved, you’d known that for a while, and that made the fire grow quicker than you thought it would. The dance you’d been doing with each other for months was nothing in comparison to the dance of your lips. It was less infuriating for you, and more prideful for Murdock. The little sounds that escaped your mouth as you shifted to get more comfortable gave him a boost to his ego that he really didn’t need. Still, he smiled while you pushed deeper. 

This was his prize. You would never admit it, but Murdock knew that you knew that he won. He wasn’t sitting pretty in a cell, he was sitting pretty on your couch, with a view, not of iron bars, but of a gorgeous detective who had practically pledged their life to him. He leaned back just an inch to breath, letting you do the same, in order to get a good look at you.

The breath was worth nothing when you knocked it out of him, anyway. Disheveled was a good look on you.

“I’ve made my choice,” you muttered, “and I don’t intend on going back on it now.” That statement made his heart quicken, more than fleeing any crime scene could ever cause.

His curiosity was piqued when you straightened your back and looked towards the bookcase.

You got to your feet as you said, “Oh, that means I can show you something.”

Murdock watched you rush to where you were looking. You grazed a hand across the dusty surface, eyes skipping through the spines to find the thing you were searching for. When you turned around again, Murdock saw not a book, as he would have guessed, but a manilla folder.

After your rooftop meeting, you had done some research. You used to tell yourself it was to keep tabs on the other detectives, so that you could possibly guess who Murdock would go after first. Now, you admitted that it was just to dig up some dirt.

You fell back next to Murdock on the couch, bringing a foot onto the coffee table. The folder was tossed open in your hands by the weight of the papers inside, and there were a lot of them, each separated with a tab. One name, one last name, was written per tab.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out what this was.

“Oh, I love you,” he sighed as he flipped through some of the documents. It was a dream come true for him. The background check was the most boring part of the process, he much preferred the chase. With you, he had gotten all of his information from talking to you, and he only stayed entertained because it was you. In your hands was the golden ticket to avoid all of that messy business.

Murdock was so happy that you chased him.

“I love you, too,” you replied, bringing a hand up to grab at his jawline. If it were any other moment, he might have teased you, but he was too busy falling in love with you, as if the cat and mouse schtick hadn’t been enough for him already. He was looking forward to getting your claws back. 

“So,” he whispered into the minimal gap between you, “Pierce or Vanderbilt first?”

You dropped your head, hitting his lips with a light laugh. It was the first time that you wondered what your life had become in a grateful sense.

[I don't actually think that this was a request, but I also think of Murdock way too much to only have one fic about him. Hence... you get this. I hope you enjoyed <3!]

[probably-writing-x]

Mi alma

Summary:

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any but please let me know if you think otherwise <3

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request, I loved writing it! Espero que mi español es bueno, puedo hablar y entender español pero no es mi idioma principal así que podría haber algunas problemas con las palabras. Entonces, se paciente conmigo por favor mis cariños <3

———

It was an odd feeling when you could feel someone slipping away. Like little pieces of them were breaking off right in front of your eyes, no way of escaping it. And, only when you realised, would the decision have to be made - do you let them go, or do you hold on and piece back all of the fragments you’d started to lose?

~~~

The phone had been ringing six times and still no answer, the same buzz buzz with every ring and not once breaking off to give you a familiar hello. He never took this long to pick up his phone. When he saw your face pop up on the screen, it rarely took him more than two rings to answer. No. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably just busy.

But the phone rings out again and there’s still no response. You hang up and set your phone down on the table, checking the time. Half an hour later than when Rafe had said he’d be here.

Had something happened? Maybe he was just held up and he’d be knocking on your door in no time to explain everything. But he was never late without reason, and your mind couldn’t let you stop overthinking it just yet.

It’s another fifteen minutes later when you get a text from Rafe and you’re sure you’ve never read a message so quickly in your life.

Can’t make it tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow

Is he serious? That’s all you get? Four unanswered calls, forty five minutes late, and this is all he gives you?

You and Rafe had been together since you were fifteen years old. That was three years ago now. You had practically grown into yourselves, together. You were graduating high school together, planning futures, it just worked. But recently, perhaps the last couple of months if you really thought about it, Rafe hadn’t been himself. He answered with shorter responses, he made less plans, he cancelled plans, he was distancing - you could tell. And you were certain it was the worst feeling you’d ever known; to feel like your love was slowly disappearing.

Your hands are trembling before you get a chance to stop them, and you clench you fists to fight back the feeling, letting out a shaky breath. Your friends would tell you it was naivety, or perhaps that you were just trying to convince yourself of something you knew not to be true - but you just knew Rafe, and you knew there was more to this than him just distancing. You knew he loved you. And you knew this wasn’t him.

~~~

The following afternoon, you were finishing up at the gym, and Rafe would always meet you afterwards so that the two of you could do something together. When you step out into the parking lot, part of you is so certain that he won’t be there. But, much to your relief, his truck is parked up in its usual spot.

“Hey!” You smile as you open the passenger door, “How are you?”

You lean over the space between your seats to kiss him, but he doesn’t turn his head towards you so you recoil with a slight flush to your cheeks.

“Is it okay if I just drop you home? I’ve got some stuff to do today,” Rafe says coldly, placing a hand on the back of your chair so that he can reverse out of the spot.

As his head turns to check behind him, you notice the tension in his jaw, and the darkened circles beneath his eyes like he is completely drained. He doesn’t make eye contact with you either, and you’re certain that any touch between the two of you would practically make him flinch away. You swallow the lump in your throat and fiddle with your hands in your lap.

“So, my Mom was thinking we could have a party next weekend, sort of a before-college kind of thing,” You explain, “I wasn’t sure at first but I thought it could be nice, we could invite some of our friends, a little gathering before some of us leave.”

You’d be leaving for college in a month, and you’d been accepted into Duke. It wasn’t too far away, and the plan was for Rafe to visit you as much as he could - you’d already bought him his own towel and toiletries and extra pillow for your room. He wasn’t going to college, his plan always being to go into work with his father. But you’d known that since the two of you had started dating and it hadn’t seemed to be much of a concern until recently. Until Rafe had started acting like the two of you were on a countdown towards the inevitable.

“I’ll have to check if I’m free,” He says coldly, looking deadset on the road in front of him.

“Well, it was just an idea,” You swallow the lump again, “I’m sure we could find a day that would work.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rafe says, not bothering to indicate into the road that led up towards your family’s home.

He pulls up in front of the gates and puts the car into neutral, still not tearing his eyes away from the road.

“Rafe.”

He doesn’t turn around.

“Rafe!”

His gaze flicks to you slightly but it still refuses to meet your eyes.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing, I’ve just got a lot to do today.”

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you won’t look at me,” You shake your head, “Or why you cancelled last night with no explanation. So can you tell me what’s happening or are we going to sit in this car in silence?”

He doesn’t say anything. You clench your fists to stop your hands from shaking, watching as time seems to slow down in the space between you. It’s like you’re looking at him but not seeing him. Like the boy in front of you was not the boy you knew, and you were searching for a way to bring him back.

“I don’t know, (Y/N).”

The pain inside of you seems to shift towards an anger then. You deserved to be annoyed. This was your boyfriend, and he wasn’t acting like that right now.

“Okay, well you let me know when you figure it out,” You grab your bag from the footwell, your hands shaking a little as they push open the door and you slam it shut behind you, hurrying towards your front door like you were practically running away from him.

Part of you is screaming at him to get out of the car and run after you, grab you and tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. But you instead hear the sound of the engine rev as it leaves the driveway, leaving an oddly uncomfortable coldness in its absence.

~~~

“Hola mama,” You smile tiredly as she comes through the front door, poking your head up from where you were laying against the arm of the couch watching Gilmore Girls for the past few hours, “Que tal?”

“Hola mi cariño,” She comes over and kisses your head, “¿Estas bien? ¿Rafe no está aquí?”

“No, hoy tiene muchas cosas para hacer, pero no entiendo de verdad,” You sigh, pressing your head back down against the arm of the couch.

She squeezes your shoulder, “Ay guapa, los chicos son el problema - siempre.”

You smile just lightly as your Mom disappears upstairs, commenting something about how she was tired and would probably sleep as soon as she got to her bed.

It was dark outside now but you hadn’t checked your phone to question what the time was, your Mom coming home probably meant it was already past ten and so it had been at least five hours since you’d heard from Rafe. Your heart was aching for him to come back to you.

There’s only so much waiting you can do though, right? And you take yourself to bed soon after, willing the sheets to warm up without the feeling of his arms around you.

~~~

You’re not sure which part it is that wakes you up, the breeze sweeping through your opened window, or the sound of his feet hitting against the window frame as he clambers through. But you flinch awake and turn in bed, panicked, to see Rafe climbing through your window - the same way he had done when the two of you first got together, before your Mom thought it was acceptable for him to be staying the night.

“What th-“

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Rafe frowns, dragging a hand through his hair.

His eyes are tired beyond their years but he looks youthful and innocent in his joggers and sweatshirt.

“Of course you woke me, it could’ve been anyone,” You hiss into the dark, flicking on your bedside lamp to see him clearly.

It casts a shadow on his face that intensifies the circles under his eyes.

“Anyone? Who else do you have climbing through your window?” He smirks a little, like a piece of himself coming back, “Should I be concerned?”

You roll your eyes and drop down onto your back, turning away from him in the bed, “What are you doing here Rafe?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” He says, kicking at a nonexistent mark on the carpet underneath his feet.

You don’t say anything, the same anger still coursing through your veins like it had done when the two of you were in the car. You deserved to be angry. You deserved to be angry. You deserved to be angry.

“Just get in and go to sleep,” You mumble, practically burying yourself against the pillow under your head.

It never felt like this between you. Even in your biggest arguments, and there had been a fair few when you were young, it was never like this. Rafe pulls off his jumper and leaves it on the back of the chair at your vanity, peeling back the covers on the other side of your bed so that he could get in beside you. He’s silent and so are you, the sound of the mattress moving seemingly too loud in the enclosed room. You feel him close behind you, his arms moving cautious like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. Rafe draws one arm up, over your waist, and pulls himself closer to you so that his chest presses against your back. His arm is loose and uncomfortable like he’s not sure where to place it anymore.

You swallow down the nerves in your throat once again, taking in a deep, shaky breath. He seems to feel you settle a little and pulls you tighter to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck, your hair fanning over his features. With a deep inhale, it feels like another piece of him comes back to you, slowly but as if it had never even left.

“I love you,” You whisper into the air, perhaps not even to him but just to the moment, to the pieces of him that were returning.

“I love you.”

It’s a relief. A confirmation that your heart needed. Explanations could wait for another time. Now? His arms were around you and his heart was returning just a little back to yours.

~~~

When you wake, the tiniest surge of panic runs through you, but it halts almost instantly when you feel the weight of his arm still around you, his head still exactly where it was hours before.

You shift slightly and he moves his head away, looking down at you with eyes as tired as they were the day before. Wiggling around his hold, you turn yourself to face him.

“Did you sleep?” You whisper, moving a hand up to run through his hair, messy over his head.

He nods but doesn’t say anything, his eyes floating shut like he’s trying to savour your touch.

You don’t want to say anything that will drive him away, like your words have the capability to flick a switch in him that hadn’t existed before the last few days. Your fingers remain in his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek, slowly. Rafe tilts his head and kisses your palm, his fingers wrapping around your arm as he starts to trail kisses down your hand, your wrist, your forearm, up towards your shoulder, up towards your jaw, pausing before they reach your lips.

It’s you that seals the contact, moving your head the slight inch forward to connect with him. You both barely move at first, settling just there like that’s all you need. His hand cups your cheek and his other hand wraps around your waist to draw the small of your back impossibly closer into him. Your voice hums against his lips before he pulls away from you, dropping his forehead to lean against yours, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Can you tell me what’s happening Rafe?”

His face contorts into something you can only explain as a wince, like it pains him to even consider it.

“Please,” You frown, “These past couple of days you’ve been scaring me, I feel like I’m losing you.”

He pushes his forehead into you just a little more like he’s drawing more of you into him, “I don’t want that.”

You pull away enough to look into his eyes, “Then tell me what’s going on. We can talk about this.”

Rafe relaxes the tension from his shoulders and rests his head back down onto the pillow just a few inches away from you, turning onto his back and tucking an arm underneath his head, staring up at the ceiling. You stay laying on your side, watching his movements, his features, the way the morning light hits his eyes.

“I went out with the boys two days ago, before we had plans, when I texted you saying I couldn’t make it,” He begins, “We just had a few drinks, started talking about the future and everything. And they were talking about you, and Duke. And you know I hate when they talk about you anyway but they just didn’t stop. They were just going on and on about how things are going to change when you go away and I stay here. And it made me realise…”

He pauses and turns his eyes to look at you momentarily before pulling away.

“You’re going off and you’re going to do all of this stuff at college, and I’m so proud of you, but I-“ He clenches his jaw, “I can’t be what you deserve, and maybe I never have been.”

“What are you-“

“You deserve someone that’s going to give you all of the same life and energy that you give to people. The same brain, the same kindness, the same patience,” He shakes his head, “I’m not like that. I don’t know all of this intellectual stuff like you do, I have a short temper, I don’t think about other people as much as I think about myself, I get angry, I lash out, I-“

“Rafe, stop!”

He pauses, looking at you like the words hadn’t just come from your mouth, a tone he’d never heard slip past your lips.

“Where is this coming from?”

“You’re going to Duke and you’re going to meet-“

“Rafe.”

You force yourself to sit up in the bed, looking down at where he lays beside you. His eyes look down, making them almost look shut.

“I’m going to Duke, we knew things were going to change, okay? We prepared for that. But what is all of this? You suddenly don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I don’t think I ever have been, (Y/N), I’ve just not wanted to admit it,” He looks up at your then, his adam’s apple bobbing as he does.

You bite down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, drawing every ounce of strength you could muster so that you could make it through this without crying.

“Why do you think that? Do the past three years mean nothing?”

“No, god, no,” He shakes his head abruptly, “I just mean…”

“Rafe, I don’t care about what your friends think. They’re not us. If they want to say that we won’t work, they can think that. Does it change anything between us?” You furrow your brows, “Why can’t you see that? I’m here, and I’m always going to be here, for as long as you tell me that you love me, I’ll be here to show you that I love you too. Do you know that?”

He nods just slightly, just the slightest drop in his head as enough of a confirmation to you.

“Do you know that I love you, Rafe?”

He closes his eyes then, like he wants to savour the words.

You settle back down to lay against the mattress, tucking your arm under your head to match his exact position, staring up at the ceiling as you tear your eyes away from him.

“A este hombre le quiero besar la tristeza y el miedo para ver si entiende que lo quiero por lo que es y no por lo que pueda esperar de él.”

Rafe leans up onto his elbows then, looking at you with the slightest of smiles on his lips, “I must’ve missed that in Spanish 101.”

“I want to kiss this man’s sadness and fear to see if he understands that I love him for what he is and not for what I can expect from him,” You comment, turning your eyes to him.

He drags himself to you, lifting up onto his arms and turning over so that he hovers above your form, “Tell me it again.”

You hum and bring your hands up to cup his face, pulling him in so that you can kiss every inch of his features, speaking the words again between each break in contact.

“Por lo que es y no por lo que pueda esperar de ella,” Rafe finishes for you, dipping his head so that his lips connect with yours longingly, safely.

“Te quiero con todo mi alma,” You remind him, drawing him into you so that you can wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tightly like it’s the first time you’ve seen each other in forever.

You feel him smirk against your neck, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, “Tell me it again.”

[joelswritingmistress]

Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: You're tired of living a life you weren't built for. On your family's annual summer trip on the weekend of your twenty-fourth birthday, you find yourself fantasizing about a local boat captain.

Joel x f!reader

You were bored. From the outside looking in your life might have seemed wonderful. Magnificent even. You had just celebrated your twenty-fourth birthday in the company of your family on Martha's Vineyard.

It was tradition - Fourth of July weekend. Family boat. Expensive dinners. You name it. But the older you got, the less material things mattered to you. You enjoyed the company of genuine people, drawing, painting, the arts. Your family often brushed off your, mostly, inner monologue as you being a silly dreamer. At times you wondered if they were right. That you liked to escape reality with foolish dreams that a girl much younger might have. It was confusing.

"All aboard!" A gruff old man with a friendly row of off-white teeth shouted. He removed a chain from where you and your family, along with another large party, waited on a dock. An oversized boat called The Mist of the Sea sat dockside.

"Go ahead, honey," your mom encouraged, guiding you with a hand on the back through the open chain.

You sighed and smiled, stalking the boat at the edge of the dock. When you arrived a man stood there waiting with one hand extended to help you aboard.

When your hand slipped into his, your eyes met and both of you lingered there for an extra second.

His palm was surprisingly warm and his grasp was firm. He wore a navy blue ball cap with the boat's name etched into it in white writing. His dark eyes held you in place for a moment and in your mind you thought the closely cropped beard suited him.

"Go ahead Y/N," your brother encouraged. "What're you scared all of a sudden?"

Your brother's voice snapped you out of the momentary daze you were in and you hopped aboard, releasing the stranger's hand as your father scolded your younger sibling.

"Up top?" You asked your mother, looking over your shoulder.

"I'd prefer it."

You nodded and took the short ladder to the boat's top platform and found a seat. Your parents, your brother, your sister, two cousins and your aunt and uncle followed your lead.

"Happy hour cocktails, anyone?" Your Uncle Mark asked, half-kidding. It opened the door to engage in conversation with the party that sat across from you.

You placed your elbow on the ledge and looked out into the open ocean beyond the captain's quarters. All you could think about was wanting to paint the gorgeous little marina and the sun going down toward the horizon behind it. The thought brought a little smile to your face.

Your eyes were drawn back to reality when the man who had helped you aboard made his way behind the wheel of the boat and reached for the boat's handheld radio to talk into.

"Good afternoon everyone," he greeted, his voice echoing though the speakers to the left and right. "My name is Joel Miller and I'll be your captain for your forty-five minute cruise around the island."

You were lost in him for a moment. He was beautiful. Hair just a little too long. Skin tanned a golden shade from being out in the sun every day. You could see when he moved a bit that he had a slight farmer's tan where his T-shirt ended.

"The ocean's a little choppy," Joel added with a grin beneath tired eyes. He glanced in your direction. "But we'll be just fine."

You tried to suppress a school girl smile but one spread across your face as he hung up the handheld radio and paid attention to steering the boat.

Along the way he gave little tidbits on the history of the area and rattled off a few famous individuals who had stayed nearby during the summer months.

"On the starboard side you'll see the famous Jaws bridge. If any of you are brave enough, it's a popular spot to take a dive."

Finally something that sounded fun. You didn't know if you were being a complete spoiled brat for not appreciating the lavish life your parents continued to give you or if you simply didn't fit the mold and you were searching for who you really were.

Too deep of a thought, you told yourself.

When the bridge was out of view you had your eyes fixed on Joel again. Another picture perfect painting - the handsome captain with the broad shoulders standing with his back to you, the steering wheel in both hands with the horizon in his sights. Now *that* would be something worth painting.

You subtly removed your phone from your handbag and tried to sneak a photo as a reference for later.

"Did you just take a picture of the captain?" Your brother couldn't help but call you out.

You whipped your arm around a whacked him hard on the knee. All eyes were on you now and your parents both flashed a look of disapproval. There was no way you were going to, "He started it," but that's what you were thinking.

You weren't sure but you thought you heard Joel chuckle to himself. It made your stomach sink with embarrassment and you wanted to smack your brother again. Even at twenty-one he still acted like a freshman in high school.

The rest of the cruise was relatively relaxing; quiet. It was what you liked most about being out on the ocean. The quiet, aside from the crash of the waves against the sea vessel.

"Well we are just about back to shore. You've been an outstanding last crew of the night. I hope you enjoy your stay on the vineyard, whether you're a townie like me, live here just for the summer or if you're on vacation."

The boat eased into the space and you saw two men on the dock begin to secure it.

"Thanks Captain." Your father extended an arm and the two men shook hands. It prompted a laundry list of thank-yous from everyone else on the top deck, leaving you as the last.

"Thank you." You barely let your eyes meet his this time but managed a smile.

"You're welcome." Joel gave a little nod and trailed you to the ladder that led down.

You scrunched your nose, feeling the wind from the ocean fighting the bottom of your dress as you scampered to the lower deck. Thankfully your mom was there to hold it in place the last few steps.

"Alright, where to?" Your brother could be heard asking, to which your cousin rattled off a few names of some bars in the area near the ritzy pair of townhouses you were all renting for the weekend.

"Joel," one of the deckhands approached him behind you. "Want to get a few beers down at the Lamp Post before the crowds really rush in tonight? The two of us are going when we clean up."

You leaned an extra ear. You knew of the bar they were talking about but you'd never gone in. Others called it the Rare Duck. You didn't really know why.

"Sure," he agreed. "I'm just going to take a shower out back and then I'll walk down."

"Are you going to go to dinner with your aunt and uncle and your father and I?" Your mother asked.

You continued to try eavesdropping on your captain's conversation. At the same time you watched your brother and cousin high-fiving as they secured some type of plan for the night.

"Actually, um, do you mind if I hang out with them?" You nodded toward the boys and your parents didn't put up a fight.

"She doesn't want to hang out with the old people, Liz," your uncle said with a laugh. "Go have fun, honey. We'll be in bed before ten."

It was enough of an out and you gave a laugh. You sold it and pretended to go catch up to the others. Meanwhile you began to toy with your Maps app to find the quickest way on foot to the Lamp Post.

NEXT CHAPTER

[cherrycola27]

Till Death?

Summary: after six months away, it's time to come back

Previous Part

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

Epilouge

Six months, twenty-six weeks, one hundred eighty-three days. That's how long you had been gone.

That was how much time had passed since you gathered up your son and a few necessary items before loading up your Jeep and driving into the sunset.

It was also the same amount of time that had passed since you saw them.

Sure, it was hard. No one said it would be easy. But over time, you managed to adapt. You traveled the length of the West Coast, and as far east as the Grand Canyon. You'd traveled up to Montana and over to South Dakota in your Jeep.

You'd let your parents keep Nick for a while and spent a week in New York with your cousin and a week on the North Carolina coast with your best friend from college.

You enjoyed your time. But something was missing.

He was missing.

You aren't sure when missing him started, but once it did, you couldn't get the ache out of your chest.

You found yourself wanting to contact him more and more. You had to will yourself not to pick up the phone and call him. To not put your car in the wind and drive back to him.

He had hurt you. You were doing this for you.

But more and more, the hurt began to fade away. It was replaced by a longing, a want to have him with you.

You missed his laugh, his smile. You missed the way he made you feel. The way he cared about you.

He never tried to pressure you to come back. He knew you needed this.

Two weeks ago, you decided that it was time to go back, time to go to him.

You made sure you had everything in order. You even went as far as contacting Phoenix and Bob to make sure he wasn't on deployment. When they confirmed he wasn't, it made everything seem so real.

So, here you were, packing up your Jeep once again.

It would take you about four hours to get back. It would be late when you returned, but you knew that you couldn't put it off any longer.

You took a deep breath before slamming the trunk of your car shut.

You adjusted Nick in his car seat, turned on his iPad, and made sure he had a snack. You gave his seat belt one final check to be safe.

Once you made sure he was secure, you opened your phone and typed out a message.

"I'm coming home."

Three simple words. You hit send before putting the car in drive.

As you pulled away from the Air BnB you'd been staying at, you sighed. A few tears slipped down your cheek. They weren't tears of sadness though, the were happy tears. You knew you were making the right choice.

You stopped along the way for stretch breaks, snacks, fuel, and the bathroom. At each stop, you checked your phone.

He hadn't responded. You hoped he'd gotten your message. Deep down, you knew he had.

You'd just left the rest stop and had about forty-five minutes of driving left. Nick was fast asleep. You turned on the radio and let the pop songs guide you home.

It's late when you pulled up. You killed the engine and lights. You took a deep breath. Maybe you should have called first instead of texting. You sat in the driver's seat and thought for a moment. It's been over six months since you left him. What if he didn't want you anymore. It was a silly thought, really. You knew he did.

You learned a lot about yourself in that time. You became the person you were always meant to be. You found your love for life again. You became a person who could let themselves love and be loved again.

You opened the door to your car and quietly got out.

You carefully lifted Nick out of the car.

You silently made your way up the steps to the porch.

Before you could knock on the door, the porch light flipped on, and the door flung open.

He was still half asleep, but a smile spread across his face when his eyes landed on you.

A beat of silence passed before he opened his mouth and spoke.

"Hi, Honey"

So babes, this is the end. I have loved writing this series and it has been an amazing journey with you. Please feel free to send me an ask if there is anything you want to share about this! I love yall!

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @hecate-steps-on-me @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sun @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix138 @abaker74 @peppizzathief @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @wannabeschyulersister @greatszu @shawnsblue @tributetomrsniffles @tv-fanatic18 @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx

[mrsaltieri-real]

Wasting Time (Todd Gaines x Fem!AFAB!Reader)

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW, langauge, smut, p in v, riding, dirty talk, slight degradation, clit play, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, teasing, mention of drugs, smoking, alcohol consumption, Todd being an asshole, etc

I lost the request for this, but Anon if you see this here she is! I love Todd so much, he’s PAINFULLY slept on so this was so much fun to write. Took me a while to get into it which is why it took so long but I seem to be on a roll tonight, so here it is! I hope you enjoy <3

“Fuck you, Ronna. No fucking way.” You snapped immediately with a shake of your head.

Ronna tapped on the roof of the car impatiently, her eyes pleading and wide. “Please? It’ll only be for 45 minutes, an hour, tops.” She begged.

“No. I don’t know this fucking guy. You wanna send me in to be collateral damage for a drug dealer for over 20 hits, are you kidding me?” You spat the words back at her, shaking your head again. Typical fucking Ronna.

“He’s Simon’s dealer, Todd. Don’t be such a square, he’s not gonna do anything to you. I promise I’ll owe you big. Whatever I make, I'll give you a cut. You hear that? A cut for sitting in a fucking apartment and doing fuck all.”

You scoffed at her, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms tightly across your chest.

Ronna sighed a little, closing her eyes. “Okay, no bullshit okay? I don’t get this money, I'm evicted, my ass is on the street.”

You hesitated just slightly but that was enough for Ronna to push harder and harder until you finally muttered, “God, fuck. Fine. Forty five minutes, Ronna. I’m serious,” as you walked toward the door.

“That’s all I’m asking.” Ronna said, relieved as she pushed the door back open and ushered you inside.

The elevator in the shitty building was broken so the two of you walked up what felt like endless flights of stairs before finally stopping in front of a door. You noticed Ronna hesitate for a second, eyes quickly flickering to you.

“Jesus, what?” You snapped.

Ronna said nothing, before lightly tapping on the door with her knuckles.

“Yeah come in, Ronna.” An almost bored sounding male voice shouted.

“You ready?” She asked, glancing back at you with her hand on the door knob. You just glared at her, refusing to reply.

The apartment smelled of cigarettes and cheap perfume as you walked in, wrinkling your nose a little. It wasn’t dirty or messy, just very unorganised. A huge speaker system was set up against the wall behind a large television and on the couch, a cigarette between his fingers and a stupid Santa hat on his head is when you saw him for the first time.

Ronna gave a brief introduction before saying something quietly to Todd and leaving without giving you so much as a second glance.

Absolute bitch. You couldn’t remember why you were friends with her.

Todd glanced at you, gesturing loosely toward the armchair across from him. Hesitating, you slowly walked toward the seat, refusing to look at him as you slowly sat down.

“So, you’re a friend of Ronna’s?” He asked you, leaning back on his sofa and taking a long drag of his cigarette. You nodded your head once, still not looking at him.

“You fuckin’ mute or something?” He looked at you, head slightly cocked to the side as he leaned forward, stumping out his cigarette in the crowded ashtray on the table. “Ronna the chatty one?”

“No, I’m not mute.” You muttered, eyes flickering up to meet him slightly. God, he was fucking hot. In the kind of way you’d expect a drug dealer to look but a lot better. Your eyes fell down to his bare, toned chest and torso and you diverted your gaze back down to your hands.

You heard him scoff a little and stand up, walking into his kitchen. You let out a small breath, moving to rest your hand on your forehead. Fuck, what were you doing here?

“You wanna drink or something?” Todd called from his kitchen.

“Oh, uh yeah some water would be great.”

You heard him laugh a little and he poked his head around the door. “Fucking water? You’re stuck here till Ronna comes back with my money. Live a little.”

“She won’t take long.” You said back sharply.

“Oh, wow. You really think it’s going to take her only 45 minutes to sell 20 hits of fucking E?”

Fuck he was right.

“Fine, I’ll have whatever it is you’re having.” You gave in.

“Yeah, bet you can handle straight fucking whiskey.” He said sarcastically, his tone immediately starting to piss you off as you scowled in the direction of his voice.

He walked back in, bottle tucked under his arm and two glasses between his fingers, setting it all down on the table and settling back down in his seat. His eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, and you think you saw a small smile tug on the corners of his lips before disappearing just as quickly as it came.

He poured you a drink, sliding the glass over to you with a flick of his fingers before returning to make his own. You tentatively picked it up, sniffing it a little cautiously. You didn’t know this guy, what if he spiked it?

“I didn’t spike it.” He said, snapping you away from your thoughts. “Only fucking idiots do shit like that. I sell, I don’t give for free.”

He made a good point. You took a small sip of the straight whiskey, enjoying the burn as you swallowed it. He raised an eyebrow at you a little, leaning back on the couch again.

“So, you let Ronna leave you here as collateral, huh? Why’d you let her do that?”

You finally plucked up the courage to look at him dead on, your hand circling the glass in your hand. “She’s my friend.” You stated with a shrug.

“Yeah, great friend she is. Leaving you here with a guy she hardly fuckin’ knows.”

Again, he made a good point but you simply shrugged again. “Fine, I guess you could say I’m doing her a favour.”

“A favour?” He rolled his eyes slightly, reaching forward for his packet of cigarettes and offering you one to which you declined with a shake of your head before he took one out, placing it between his lips as he spoke, “You give favours easily?”

“What do you mean?” You asked with a furrow of your brow.

“I mean, no one gives a favour without expecting something in return and like I said to Ronna I give head before I give favours. So what are you getting for doing her this ‘favour?’” He stuck his fingers up in air quotations before picking up his lighter, sparking up his cigarette.

You hesitated for a second before replying, deciding to just lie, “Haven’t decided just yet.”

He was quiet for a while, eyes never once leaving you as he smoked, scanning you over and over again.

“What?” You finally said with a sigh, raising the glass to your lips again. You fucking hated people staring at you, especially like that.

“Are you a virgin?”

You couldn’t help the surprised gasp you let out, almost choking on the whiskey. “I’m sorry?” You spluttered.

“You seem like one. Letting people walk all over you like that. Haven’t quite got the confidence fucked into you yet.” He turned his shoulders up slightly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a second before exhaling.

“Okay, not to be rude but you don’t even know me.” You retorted in a slightly clipped tone.

“Let’s just say I’m fucking intuitive.” He said back sharply.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him as you took another long sip, desperately needing the alcohol to numb you even just a little bit.

“So? Are you?”

You couldn’t stop your head falling back in frustration as you groaned, “Oh my god, no. I’m not. Not that it's any of your business,” Before looking back at him.

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Fuck buddies?”

“No?”

“You want one?”

You looked at him, slightly confused and he just turned up his shoulders a little, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“Gonna be here a while.” He said again, gesturing toward the clock on his wall. It had hardly been fifteen minutes. “You wanna get laid?”

“No.”

“No you don’t wanna get laid or no you do but, you don’t wanna get laid with me?”

You were quiet for a second, feeling the rush of blood in your cheeks from the way he was looking at you. His eyes continued to roam your body, almost hungry and enjoying the challenge of your incoming rejection instead of having his ego bruised by it.

“I don’t know you.”

“So?”

You were getting really sick of his questions. You wanted to walk out, fuck Ronna and fuck her money. But instead you remained in the arm chair, engaging in conversation with an annoyingly attractive drug dealer wearing a fucking Santa hat.

“So, I don’t fuck guys I don’t know.”

“Well, aren’t you a fun one?” He scoffed a little, rolling his eyes as he flicked some ash from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him.

“Yeah, I’m sure you get a lot of girls come in here and ride you to oblivion in return for drugs but I’m not interested.” You finished your drink, leaning forward and placing the glass on his table a little harder than was probably necessary. He didn’t miss a beat, leaning forward and grabbing the bottle to pour more of the amber liquid into your glass whilst saying, “Well look at that. Maybe you’re more interesting than I gave you credit for,” With a smile toying on the edge of his lips.

You didn’t hold back your eye roll at him this time, picking the glass back up as soon as he finished pouring and drinking a few mouthfuls.

“How much longer do you think I’ll have to be here?” You asked, glancing at the clock again.

“However long it takes.” He finished his own drink, refilling it quickly. “You sure you don’t wanna fuck the time away?”

You paused for a second. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was that looking at Todd again he was genuinely painfully attractive. It was possible it was a combination of the two and why not?

You weren’t boring, but you also never did anything on a whim. You were a little tipsy and he wasn’t wrong, who knows how long Ronna would be gone for? You could either sit here and listen to this asshole poke fun and ramble on about shit you couldn’t give less of a fuck about, or you could just fuck him.

Why not the latter?

Todd watched your face the whole time you were thinking with almost curious amusement. Sure, he’d just slept with another girl less than two hours ago but he found something oddly endearing about you. Your initial rejection enticed him further, he wasn’t used to being rejected by anyone. He knew he was attractive and was almost cocky about it, staring at you in a way he knew you’d struggle to say no to.

“Fine.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You stood up from the chair, placing your once again empty glass on the coffee table before walking over to him.

“Let’s fuck.”

He looked slightly doubtful, looking up at you with his eyebrows raised. “What?“ you asked, crossing your arms across your chest. “You all talk or something?”

He didn’t like that. His sceptical look turned demeaning as he watched as you got to your feet, a little nervous as you approached him. Everything about him screamed intimidating but the whiskey had filled you with an odd feeling of courageous intent as you halted in front of him.

Todd’s expression turned amused as his eyebrows raised and he leaned past you with a shake of his head, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray before settling back into the sofa, hands resting on the couch cushions.

His hands suddenly grabbed your hips as he moved forward, eyes looking up at you as his fingers caressed the soft flesh of your slightly exposed skin making you shiver a little, an action that only made him smile widely, “Jesus, calm down. I’ve hardly done anything yet.”

You scowled down at him, already becoming irritated again. Fuck this guy.

You didn’t hesitate before moving his hands off of you in favour of pushing him back by his shoulders and straddling him, knees either side of his thighs as you leaned forward to press your lips against his before you changed your mind, and also to finally shut Todd up. The taste of whiskey and tobacco danced on your tongue, the flavour oddly delicious and endearing, making you eager for more as you let out a soft moan into his mouth, feeling his large hands move to knead the flesh of your ass through your jeans.

You gasped a little as you felt his grip tighten as he stood up, locking your legs around his waist as he moved you onto your back, finally breaking the kiss to quickly unbutton and tug your jeans along with your panties down your legs, discarding them quickly on the floor.

It almost seemed as though he was afraid you’d change your mind too.

His hands smoothed up the length of your legs, up the curve of your back until he was hovering over you, one of his hands moving back between your legs, letting his finger run up your slit and to your clit as he revelled in the small whimper that fell from your lips.

“Jesus, your fucking soaked and all we did was make out a little.” He didn’t say it in a teasing or joking way, he sounded incredibly turned on by the fact as he asked, “You sure you’re not a virgin?”

“Not a virgin, just very inexperienced. Can you just shut up and fuck me, Todd?” You wanted to sound irritated but it instead came out as pleading much to your temporary dismay.

A small laugh as he responded, “What, no foreplay?”

You rolled your eyes, arching your hips so your bare cunt moved against his clothed, hard cock through the thin material of his light blue sweats, the action making him suck in a harsh breath.

“Doesn’t seem like you need it that much either.” You pointed out, repeating the action again promoting him to lean back from you, pulling his sweats off and sitting back down on the couch. You sat up, not missing a beat as you returned to straddle him as before. His hands reached to his head to pull off the Santa hat but you stopped him by grabbing his hand, pushing it down. He gave you a look, eyes deeply amused but said nothing, simply dropping his hand to his side.

You sighed blissfully as your pussy ground over the length of his hard dick, before arching your hips up and allowing him to reach behind you, guiding himself to your soaked hole and hearing him cuss loudly as your warm, wet tightness enveloped him entirely, fingers moving to spread your cheeks open as you sunk down onto his length, smiling a little when he muttered, “God damn, you’re fucking tight.”

Your head fell back at the satisfying stretch, wanting to enjoy it for a second as you moaned softly. Todd didn’t allow that, falling against the sofa as he began to slowly thrust up into you.

Fuck, he was big, bigger that you were used to. You didn’t even realise it till his slow thrusts began to touch parts of you that you didn’t think you had even managed to discover by yourself.

“Fuck, Todd,” you gasped out, rolling your hips to meet his increasingly hard thrusts, your hands resting on his chest and your nails digging into the his soft skin and leaving cresent shaped marks on the creamy surface. It wasn’t fast, just hard and somehow that made it completely fucking perfect. You found yourself really being able to focus on how good he was making you feel rather than having all your thoughts scattered by too much stimulation at once.

One of his hands ran up the length of your body as your grinds began to increase with speed, marvelling at how your tits bounced in front of him as your wetness was so much it managed to drip out of you, down his cock and stain the couch beneath the two of you.

“You always this fucking wet?” He commented, hand falling to toy with your clit as you bounced on him, a breathy laugh escaping your as you responded, “Yeah, that a problem?”

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to dignify such a question with a response as he focused on his fingers playing with your clit, the noises you were making for him and the feeling of your pussy squeezing him with every stroke sending him closer and closer to the edge.

He wanted to be gentle with you, he wanted to, but that simply wasn’t going to happen. You just felt too fucking good, too tight, too wet.

It almost knocked the air out of you when he flipped positions, pushing you onto your back whilst he remained buried deep inside of you, his thrusts becoming stronger, more determined and calculated as one hand pushed you down into the couch as he fucked you into it and the other slid into your hair, gripping it tightly. You could feel his skin slapping against your clit whilst he hit that sweet spot at this new angle, the combination making you let out a loud gasping moan.

“You like this, don’t you?“ he whispered in your ear, nothing amused about his tone. Your legs tightened around his waist as he spoke, eager to feel more, “Getting fucked by a guy you hardly know, by a drug dealer. Nasty little slut, acting like she’s too good for me when all it took was a few drinks.” All you could do was moan in response, a weak, pathetic sound that made him grin. He pulled back, still not leaving your desperately leaking cunt as he flipped you onto your stomach, dragging you up by your hips so you were face down, ass up for him. He marvelled at the view for a moment, his cock stuffing your dripping pussy as he slowly pulled out, smiling at your small whimper as he did so before he quickly slammed all the way back in, making your body jolt and your face bury into your arm as he did so, teeth biting down to stop yourself from screaming.

“P-please don’t stop!” You begged him when you finally lifted your head, pushing yourself against him and earning a sharp slap of your ass as you did so, making you yell loudly.

“Think I’m gonna be able to? Nah, this slutty little cunt is milking me so.” Thrust, “Fucking,” Thrust, “Good.” Every word was bookended with a sharp snap of his hips, the sensation almost making you sob in pleasure then and there, “Fucking play with your clit, want to feel your pretty pussy squeeze me.”

You obliged, a shaky hand moving between your legs from under you and rubbed at your clit eagerly. You heard him suck his teeth sharply as your cunt clenched around him desperately, his need to cum inside of you taking over anything else, any care that you were potentially not on the pill and in that moment, Todd stuffing your leaking cunt you didn’t care either.

His thrusts began to stutter, his pants becoming more and more erratic as he gasped out, “Gonna fucking cum,” and go to pull out of you, but you whimpered loudly, using your feet to lock his knees in place and taking him by a short lived surprised before he released inside of you, his throbbing cock and hot cum sending you over the edge into your own intense orgasm, rolling your hips against your hand and his leaking, softening cock as you rode out your high against him with loud curses and moans falling from your lips as he muttered, “Holy shit,” as you used him to ride out your high.

He pulled out of you after a couple of seconds with a soft, “Fuck,” as he did so, already missing the warm hot feeling of your cunt.

You were still bent over, trying to catch your breath when you felt his hand on your lower back, patting it gently as he breathed out, “You alright?”

You finally moved to sit back on the couch. Now your orgasm was gone, you suddenly felt self conscious, your hands moving to cover you bare tits. The action just made him roll his eyes, leaning forward and grabbing his packet of cigarettes from the table.

“Now you're shy again? Thought I managed to fuck that outta you.” He said as he placed the cigarette between his teeth.

“Guess not. Might need to do it a few more times. ” You shrugged, leaning forward to grab your previously discarded clothes and glancing up at the clock as he let out a small chuckle.

Ronna’s forty five minutes were up, where the fuck was she?

[theonetruegnome]

The sixth course

After literally seven hours writing and brainstorming and no sleep, it is supper time my children. Gather round! We now have the shift of everybody's favourite good boy, Dogday! Introducing

MunchyPup!

MunchyPup is the group foodie, and it isn't hard to deduce for yourself! The candyfloss dog always has something in his mouth, be it a light snack, second breakfast, a ball or just gum. His appetite and metabolism are frankly startling, being able to eat a full seven hobbit meals on a good day and only feel the teensiest bit overstuffed. Some people may think him greedy or that he's putting on an act, and yes, he does sometimes feel he eats too much, but he can't really help how fast his digestion is, so it doesn't bother him too often.

You may think that he ends up as a sort of side character in most of the gang's adventures, feeling more like someone's younger brother tagged along because mum said so, like so many of the pink critters, but Munch actually ends up being one of the focal ones in the group's activities. He, of course, brings the food for the group picnics and camping trips, as well as packed lunches for when some of the others go off on their own separate adventures from the main group, even with little notes saying 'We all love you' or 'I'll still be here, no matter what'. He also sometimes ends up helping Picky's shift (no spoilers!) plan the group's activities and, when necessary, discipline them for misbehaving, acting as her #2 in command.

He has also created diet plans for each of them to help with specific goals or issues. For instance, Conk has been ordered to consume more nuts and chamomile, as well as taking fish oil to help regulate his sleeping schedule. It doesn't help much, but Conk tries to keep it up because it's better than nothing. Leah has spinach, eggs and raw salmon on her plan, both to help with her anxiety and to try to get her to grow more, as she's very short due to years of malnutrition from being bullied. Callum is given chicken to keep his fur silky and smooth. MunchyPup tried to get him into mousing, also for his fur, but Callum couldn't bring himself to finish them off once he'd caught them. Munch then tired just serving the mice, but Callum still felt bad for the mice and didn't like the taste, so just sat there looking sadly and guiltily at his full plate.

All in all, Munch's home life is quite good! He has two younger brothers, one who is two-and-a-half and the other who is now six. His parents used to alternate staying home when they had only to raise him, but when his brother was born they both had to work almost all week to keep the family afloat, leaving MunchyPup at a very young age to care for the house and raise his brother, Darner, feeding, bathing and playing with him. When their third son was born, the family thought things could only get worse. However, Munch yet again took up the mantle and cared for yet another brother, this time with help from Darner. The split workload allowed Munch to get some odd jobs around town and, with three of the family working together and some days with everyone going hungry, they managed to keep the roof over their heads until his mother could find a better job. Sometimes, the two parents regret taking Munch's childhood from him by having Darner and Harper, but to MunchyPup they were some of the best years of his life, and the three brothers have grown only closer because of it.

and now, an after dinner trivia mint:

He can stand on his head for over forty-five minutes without vomiting and once did so for a bet with Eli. Eli conked out at 7 minutes 33 and when he woke up Munch was still upside down.

Once when the gang went to the movie theatre, everyone bought regular snacks except Munch, who brought a large punchbowl of sliced melons. He finished it before the climax of the film as well as at least half a pound of popcorn.

Despite encouraging the others to eat healthily and responsibly, his favourite meal is a tomato and French-fry sandwich with extra mustard.

As a joke, Conk and Dandy got he and Picky's shift (no spoilers) matching mugs for fathers' and mothers' day. They say 'no.1 Mom' and 'the best Dad ever'.

The first words Darner ever said were 'Buvver!' Munch still thinks about it sometimes and feels as warm inside as if he's drunk a bowl of home-cooked soup.

Finally, his charm is a sack lunch with picky's charm on the front (see below) and his scent is fresh mango.

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - the inherent injustice of being the youngest person in any group

The Wall is nearly ready.

Amadeus likes a good wall, especially if he gets his hands on a printer and some red string. It’s good to be able to put all information in view at once – helps him organise his thoughts, or at least present them in a way that appears organised to a random observer.

“Oh, so we’re in crazy town already?” Tony sighs. “Cho, it’s not been a week.”

The Wall is nearly ready, save for a giant empty space he’d mentally labelled as OTHER PILOT. Now, Amadeus would be the first to admit he can get excited a smidge too quickly, so when he talks Tony through his and Montesi’s findings, he needs to make sure to include absolutely everything. He starts with two near-identical sets-of-four scans of the Maximoffs’ brains.

“No, no, let him talk,” Montesi pushes him into a chair. She’s got her hair up in the messiest bun Amadeus has ever seen on her, and he’s fairly sure she hasn’t meditated once since the first MEG scan came back making zero sense. He’s a great influence on everyone around him. “I triple-checked every conclusion. If this is real…”

“These were taken still in drivesuits, straight out of the Conn-Pod,” he says, tapping the highlighted area in the centre of the sagittal view. “Increased blood flow and activity in hippocampus for up to forty-five minutes after disconnecting from the hardware.”

Next: the original MRI Carter’s team took after the techs fished Reyes out of The Charger. Then, the results of the whole set of tests they took on his first day as their, ah, research participant. Montesi had the misfortune of taking the Hippocratic oath and doesn’t like the kind of language Amadeus got used to in private labs. “Six hours,” he says, pointing at the MRI, “three days,” pointing at the day-one MEG, then: “and yesterday.” He got a little carried away time-wise and didn’t image the scan onto a more user-friendly brain model, so it’s just rows and rows of electromagnetic waves in a table, with the relevant anomalies highlighted in neon green. Tony is a smart cookie; he’ll figure it out.

Smart as he is, he doesn’t really deal in meat brains. “Kid, help me out. What am I looking at? These are all pretty much the same.”

Amadeus just about manages not to clap like a proud parent. “They pretty much are!” He stretches himself across The Wall to point out the similarities in the detected anomalies: “See that? Minimal, but present activity in the frontal cortex, and constant stimulation to the hippocampus.” (Please please please don’t find something obvious I missed this is too interesting to be just. Nothing.) “Six! Days! No aneurysm! No seizures! Not even beginning stages of neuron malfunction!”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is this another Spector?”

Amadeus is ready for that. “Nope. His history is muddled at best – we really need to get into that, by the way – but there is no prefrontal cortex dysfunction, and no damage to the anterior cingulate gyrus.” Tony sends him a truly murderous glare over his fingers. “If it was DID, or schizophrenia, or anything, we would’ve seen signs of it by now. We mapped out his brain millimetre by millimetre, alright? There isn’t another explanation, it must be–”

“Don’t say it,“ Tony warns, but Amadeus can’t help himself:

“–ghost drifting! Come on, Doc, back me up.”

Montesi clears her throat. “He’s right.” Before Amadeus can whoop in victory, she adds: “Don’t put that in writing, I have a reputation to uphold.” She straightens the lapels of her lab coat. “Reyes needs thorough monitoring. There might well be nothing on the other end of that drift.”

“Well—”

“No,” she says, already aggravated by their many, many previous discussions on the topic.

“But—”

“No,” she repeats. “Yes, something weird is going on with his brain. Yes, I think we should investigate. But we have no evidence it’s connected to that dreadful jaeger.”

“Yet!” Amadeus is distantly aware that the noise he makes resembles a dying goose. “Tony, just hear me out.”

“Give me a damn minute.”

Both Amadeus and Montesi back away from the Wall to let him inspect the scans at his leisure. Amadeus hates being evaluated in real time; what he wants is to provide supplementary information to every piece of paper Tony looks at, what he has to do is wait for him to draw his own conclusions. Even though his understanding of neurophysiology is at best intermediate, and even though it’s Amadeus who’s supposed to be the biology side of their partnership—

“Take it down a notch,” Tony tells him seriously. “You’re about to vibrate through the floor. Go grab a drink or something, I need a word with Vicky first.”

“It’s my office,” Amadeus grumbles, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“It’s my base,” Tony raises an eyebrow, but Amadeus knows better than to challenge him on that. “Run along, come back in fifteen. I’ll need you to walk me through the spongy bits again.”

*

Robbie thinks his spine might have turned to jelly. The wooden bench in the locker room didn’t look comfortable at first, but now he reckons he could stay on it for the rest of the shift. Or maybe the rest of his life.

It’s not the most tired he’s ever been. But it’s somewhere in the top five, for sure.

“Hey, man, that wasn’t too bad,” someone punches his shoulder. Robbie is too numb to figure out whether it was hard enough to hurt or not hard enough to register. “Have some water before you pass out.”

He accepts the plastic bottle. Briefly wishes death and suffering upon everyone who laughs when he can’t operate the screw top with his shaking hands. Finally, shoulder-puncher takes mercy on him and takes it away, then hands it back, open.

“Thanks,” he manages to mumble between sips. His bad eye is all screwy and he can still feel adrenaline pulsing in his temples like a hammer. Is he really supposed to do this every day? He doesn't know if he can find his legs before it's time to pick up Gabe.

“First day always sucks,” says the shoulder-puncher. “Brooks doesn’t normally stay on one person the whole time.”

Oh. Good. Someone else says: “I thought newbies were all air support.”

“No way, he’s too short for air support.”

“I could do air support,” Robbie frowns. He’s... not entirely sure what air support is in this context. He’s only partially convinced he’s actually forming words. Shoulder-puncher grabs the water bottle back before it slips from his fingers. “’m not. But I could.”

“Sure you could, pip-squeak,” Shoulder-puncher laughs. His accent is... familiar. Robbie tries to focus enough faculties to actually look at the guy. On his way to buff, blond, freckled like someone who hasn’t given up on a tan despite all signs indicating it isn’t meant to be. Maybe a couple of years older than Robbie. “You sound Californian.”

“East L.A.,” Robbie confirms. Shoulder-puncher points at one of his mates with a satisfied smirk and collects a bundle of Hong Kong dollars among a mix of cheering and booing.

“Grew up there before my old man got drafted,” he tells Robbie, tapping the side of his nose. “Name’s Guerro.”

The three other guys in the locker room also have names, and Robbie will be very embarrassed he can't remember them in the near future. They're training to be on the ground cover, but just as anyone else in the academy, plan to become rangers as soon as the new jaeger finally gets built.

"Brooks said--" Was that meeting classified? Robbie is too wiped out to care. "Vibranium problems. There's a delay."

"Aw, fuck that noise," probably-Kim drops down on the bench to his right. He makes an exaggerated double-take when he notices Robbie’s bad eye. "Dang, did Brooks get you in the face?"

"Accident," he shrugs.

"Make sure you see Nurse Carter, get some drops for that shit," Guerro cranes his neck to take a better look. "It's too fucking damp here, everything takes forever to heal up."

It's... nice. It's nice to have people talk to him rather than at and over him, and use a language he can mostly understand - there's some Cantonese inserts he's still getting his head around. Guerro and his friends tease him for being too-brain dead to remember the way to the barracks and express jealousy that he gets to bunk with the civilians. There's the tiny, irritating sliver wedged between his ribs that bristles at being the new kid again - always - but Robbie is truly too exhausted to pay it any mind.

Besides, comes a thought, if anyone around here is going to make ranger, it's you.

***

(Thanking @cicada-candy and @rokhal for the Spector idea. Also @wazzappp for help with the science magic bc let's be real in my hands that's the best we can hope for 😌😅)

[apotatomashedbybts]

Eleutheria

or The Exit Part II

皿 Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk × OC (Park Sowon) (reader) / Jung Hoseok × OC (Lee Ji-a)

皿 Genre: Horror; Angst

皿 Trope: speculative horror, supernatural au, established relationship

皿 Word Count: 27.7k+ [sorry (^人^)]

皿 Trigger Warning: description of demonic entity, loss of loved ones, anxiety, injury, suffocating environment, deception, death

皿 Rating:PG13

皿 Banner: apotatomashedbybts

皿 Beta Reader: @theharrowing [my darlingest, Harrow! No matter how much I thank you it won't be enough! Thank you for being so patient with this piece and helping me bringing it to how it is now! Thank you for leaving so many compliments and reactions throughout the story and for putting up with my queries! They mean the world to me! And I feel like I haven't told you enough how amazing you are! Thank you for being the absolutely amazingest! Love you （づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～]

皿 Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Just go with the flow, baby~

皿 Author's Note (I): It's finally here! Omg! It took me so long to complete this part... And idk if I should be proud or embarrassed to say that this isn't the end. There will be multiple chapters coming! Honestly, when I started writing this part I thought the entire story will end in this BUT the more I thought about this story the more it extended, more characters appeared, the story in my head got kinda complicated (?) So I thought I must write whatever's hotchpotch cooking inside my hot head! And it feels like it's just the beginning.

皿 Author's Note (II): It'd mean the world to me if you not only like but also REBLOG and let me know about your thoughts on this! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠). Your feedback gives me the motivation to keep on writing ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ I would love to hear any thoughts! Even if it's an incoherent screech or just a "nice"!

皿 Taglist: @here2bbtstrash ; @sahazzy ; @minisugakoobies ; @sailoryoons ; @kiara-ish

皿 Crosspost: AO3 | Wattpad

皿 Sketches for better understanding: The Sketches

皿 Series Navigation: The Exit ⇰ Eleutheria ⇰ The Balam Manor (Upcoming)

皿 Summary: Jungkook not reaching home when he was supposed to doesn't sit right with you. You set out in search of him, only to find yourself in a mysterious manor with even more mysterious people who somehow don't seem too willing to let you go.

You couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling since you last talked to Jeongguk. 

The network on the main road remains intact throughout the way. So it was weird that there was a network disruption even when the weather was fine. 

Your mom and step-father tried to reason that things like these can happen sometimes and told you to just accept the odds. But it was too much of an odd that you couldn't connect to him once even after trying his number innumerable times and that he hadn’t arrived even by dawn when it hardly takes half an hour to forty-five minutes from where Jeongguk last called you - De Ville's Crest. 

Being a detective, you had seen the worst of what not taking action in time could do to a person. So without wasting any more time you took your car and went out to search for Jeongguk as soon as dawn gave into its first moment of morning. 

After getting out of the De Ville’s Crest, you continued to drive on the main road towards the city.

Throughout the way you looked for any sign of accidents and to your relief there weren’t any. 

Asking each and every store and commercial places on the way didn’t give you any desired answers either. 

It generally takes about two and a half hours from De Ville’s Crest to reach the junction but today it took you almost four hours. 

The grocery store at the junction of the main road and the shortcut, which barely anyone used, to The Moore Estate,  caught your attention. 

You had been traveling on this road as far as your memory took you back, but in those memories there was never a grocery store like this in this lonely intersection. 

If it wasn’t for the board hung up on top of the door saying “Taehyung Groceries”, you would have mistaken it for a greenhouse with its clean glass exterior that sparkled in sunlight and the numerous plants inside that made the products kept inside hard to notice. 

That’s a rather fancy grocery store. You thought to yourself. 

But what intrigued you the most to approach the store were the CCTV cameras placed outside the store — one facing the main road and one to the shortcut. 

Maybe one of them caught something…

You stopped your car in front of the store and went inside in hopes of getting some information. 

The air that greeted you upon entering carried a subtle scent of fresh rain and the forest at dawn that you sometimes visited with your step-dad, mixed with a light soothing scent of sandalwood incense and you found it extremely easy to breathe, as if you could sense the air get in and out of you.

Behind the counter you saw an old lady who looked 60-something. With a soft smile adorning her face she almost looked like she was glowing in her white full sleeve cotton shirt, white straight-leg trousers and white straight hair that flowed effortlessly reaching her hips. 

As soon as you crossed the threshold you heard her say, voice just above a whisper, “You are here!”

“Sorry?” You asked, surprised at her unusual greeting. 

“Nothing, my dear. Tell me what you want.” She smiled and walked out from behind the counter. 

You were quick to accept her explanation as you didn't have any patience to ponder about a greeting that she might have uttered whimsically. 

Hurriedly taking out your phone you showed her a picture of Jeongguk and asked, “Can you please tell me if you have seen him some time yesterday?” 

She took the phone from your hand and looked at it with squinted eyes for a couple seconds and then while passing it to you she said, “Oh my! Yes! I saw this gentleman yesterday. He bought a bottle of water from me a little after midnight. He asked me about the shortcut to The Moore Estate.”

Your eyes looked hopeful for the first time since last night but it was quick to give up that glint as soon as you heard about the shortcut. 

“Are you sure that he actually took the shortcut?” You enquired, trying to hold on to the possibility of him not actually taking it. 

The old lady pondered for a couple seconds before replying, “Well, we can always check the CCTV footage.” 

“Really? Can you please check? That would really help me a lot!” You exclaimed, both hopeful and grateful. 

“Of course. Why not?” The old lady answered and went back to her counter where her computer was. 

After a couple minutes of impatient waiting, you got called and you almost ran the short distance. 

The footage was from the CCTV facing the shortcut and it was showing Jeongguk’s car entering the shortcut at around 12:30 am. The footage wasn’t able to record much since it seemed like as soon as Jeongguk’s car entered that foreboding road it was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness. 

You covered your face that contorted in fear and helplessness. Your legs felt like jelly. As if sensing that the lady offered you a tool to sit down. 

“Why? Why does this keep happening to me?” You whimpered.

The strange string of incidents surrounding you resulting in the disappearance of your loved ones seemed to pull you at the throat, keeping you suffocated. 

First your dad, then your best friend Hoseok, and now Jeongguk. 

You felt like you were stuck in a terrible horror game and you were failing every level. 

The shortcut was famously infamous for being one of the creepiest and most dangerous areas in the state. And only people who didn't know about this route’s fame went in it. 

There had been numerous reports of people going missing over the years after taking this road at night. 

The authorities tried to investigate the place in search of potential criminal activities behind missing persons but found none — adding to its reputation. 

But what terrified you the most was your dad's repeated warning that still echoed in your ears, “Never ever take the shortcut to The Moore Estate at night. Not even in your dreams.” 

Thinking about your dad's ceaseless warnings and what could have happened to your boyfriend, your head felt light. 

“If I hurry I can still stop something bad from happening to him, right?” You thought and got up to leave. 

But the lady held your hand and said with that kind smile intact on her face, “You are my first customer today and it’s time for breakfast, you must be hungry. Have some sandwiches before you leave.”

She was right. No matter how much of an emotional wreckage you were, your body had its demands and the low grumble in your stomach was a definite whistle-blower. 

You sat down obediently and the lady brought two fluffy egg and bacon sandwiches on a plate for you. You told yourself that you must shove these down your throat and get going but these were hands down the best sandwiches you ever had, and God knew how hard you were trying not to relish on the taste or the relaxation that spread throughout your frazzled back instantly after you took the first bite.

As you were paying for the food and taking back the change in the counter, the lady asked, “Are you going to find your boyfriend?”

“Yes! I must hurry.” You nodded. 

The fact that you didn't mention to her about Jeongguk being your boyfriend had totally gone out of your mind. You also brushed off the fact that she used ‘find’ instead of ‘search’ in her question.

She lightly caressed your hair with a single stroke and smiled, “I hope you do. Here take this,” saying so, she handed you what seemed like a cookie the size of your palm, wrapped in a bluish silver wrapper, “for when you need it. This is on the house so don’t worry about paying. Now off you go.” 

Maybe it was because of the overpowering soft glow of hers that prevented you from noticing her eyes thus far which were so deeply pain-stricken that you couldn’t help but hug her and mentally said, “Everything’s going to be fine.” 

You wondered why you even said that when you should be the one to be told that instead. 

The lady gently patted your head and you felt a gentle whisper inside your head, “I know.” 

You couldn’t pinpoint but something about that and her hug cooled your nerves. 

Thanking her for the info and the food, you hurried outside and sped into the forbidding shortcut. 

The sun was bright above your head and you have been driving for almost an hour now at your topmost speed. But you hadn't come across any turning. The road went straight ahead without branching.

After another hour of driving you reached The Moore Estate, without noticing anything unusual.

I must be doing something wrong. 

You let out a frustrated sigh and ran your hand through your hair while turning your car around and starting again towards the road that you came from. 

But you were left disappointed again when even after reaching back at the junction you couldn't find the turning or any sign of Jeongguk's car. 

Stopping your car at the junction, you lowered your head on the steering wheel and tried to clear your mind.

Then as if suddenly having an epiphany a memory from eleven years ago played inside your head. 

Due to an emergency at home, your dad was taking you home from your boarding school late at night. You were fifteen then. 

Time in hand was short so your dad had decided to take the shortcut. You faintly remembered seeing a gas station but what you clearly remembered now was what your dad had said after crossing them at a speed of 130 km/hr. 

While keeping his sharp eyes on the road and never going down under the speed of 100, your dad had told you, “Do you wanna know a fun fact? Did you see that gas station that we crossed a while ago? It only appears after midnight. In the daytime you can never see it.” 

You remembered your dad’s tear laden face with which he had made you promise, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do, you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens, you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!”

Even though you didn't believe him back then, counting it as his way to scare you, you never took the shortcut - until today. 

And before the curious-you could ask him about what he said that night, your dad had disappeared from your life without a trace.

“I am sorry dad. I have to break the promise today. I have to find Jeongguk.” You whispered as you felt your tears trying to push their way out of your throat. 

Shaking off the sadness and the tears from your eyes, a technique that you had learned from Jeongguk and had countlessly teased him about, you looked at the time - it was 2 pm. 

You had 10 hours in hand.

You closed your eyes to think. You have to utilise the time properly and so you decided to go back home and come back with a few things that might come in handy. 

After reaching home, needless to say that you were bombarded with questions. 

You couldn't tell them that you would have explained everything to them if things were that easily explainable. But it wasn't, so you just told them to trust you and that you were going to find him. 

The last bit seemed like a reassurance to yourself. You were not sure if what you were thinking was right or not. But you ardently hoped it was. 

Packing your bag with warm clothes for both you and Jeongguk, a power bank for your phone, a strong fully charged flashlight, several water bottles, a first aid kit, your fully loaded desert eagle gun, and a compass, you started on your journey to find Jeongguk after having dinner. 

When you reached the junction, it was already dark and the moon was in the middle of the sky. 

The almost full moon was enthralling and you couldn't help but sigh and pray to it to look after Jeongguk and help you find him as quickly as possible. 

As night turned into midnight the number of vehicles on the main road decreased exponentially. The coldness started to settle onto the ground more rapidly and the surroundings were gradually getting abandoned by the signs of the city. The only trace of human civilization was the dim light coming from the old lady's grocery store. 

It was time to go but just before you were about to start your engine, your stomach growled loudly. 

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly and with a short sigh opened your bag to look for some snacks, but were quick to curse yourself when you realised that you had forgotten to pack any. 

But just then you remembered the cookie that the old lady had given you. You thanked her mentally and opened it. Was it your eyes playing tricks or did the dim light of the grocery store shine brighter for a second before going dim again?

The cookie was big - enough to defeat your hunger for now. The aroma of it was instantly appetising and after you tasted it, you regretted not getting more from her. You didn’t know whether it was just your luck or a weird coincidence that the cookie tasted of your favourite flavours — butter, orange, cashew — mixed to perfect ratio. But now there wasn't any time. So you quickly started munching on it. 

When you reached the middle of it you found a piece of paper inside and exclaimed, “Ah! So it's a fortune cookie!” 

Putting the rest of the cookie in your mouth in one go, you started reading it in the car light. 

The writing was written in golden block letters on a black paper and it read — 

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN 

“Hmm...?” You were confused. It seemed more like a riddle than a fortune. 

You read it a couple times more and then kept it in your cargo trouser pocket with a shrug because you couldn't understand what it could mean. 

Before starting your engine you looked at the moon and prayed, “Please dad, look after Jeongguk for me while I get there.” 

••• 

The road was unsettlingly dark and your car headlights couldn't pierce further than a foot through it. 

The moonlight that was brightening the surroundings with its light just a while ago seemed to have disappeared. You couldn't even see the moon anymore. 

As if it was a sign that you have entered the forbidden shortcut now.

You drove really slow in order to avoid hitting something. 

And after driving for about twenty minutes you saw it - the gas station. 

Your fuel meter's arrow was almost near empty even though you had filled it full near the junction just before leaving. 

Your brows knitted themselves together but you decided not to stop. More so because you remembered your dad’s warning. You didn’t have any business in there anyways.

While driving past it you saw a lanky old man standing at the edge of the gas station as if waiting for you to enter. And when you crossed past it you saw him in the side mirror of your car - staring right at the mirror. 

You felt like he was staring right back at you as if he knew you were looking at him. 

You felt a chilly feeling run right through your spine and you pressed onto the accelerator to get out of the vicinity of the station as soon as possible. 

Has the road always been this long? 

Your doubtful gaze wandered over to your phone and you saw that it was almost 3 in the morning; that meant you had been driving for nearly three hours now. 

You were supposed to reach The Moore Estate by this time but you couldn't seem to get out of this seemingly never ending dark road. 

Another strange occuring caught your eyes that you had forgotten all this while - your fuel. The arrow which was near the empty mark near the gas station was now hovering in the near full section, right where it should be. 

Was it your eyes playing a trick with you again or was it really a deception caused by the negative entities present there to make one enter the gas station, you wondered. 

Fearing that you might miss the turning again you slowed down even more and stopped yourself from zoning out, but just then your phone alarm went off making you jump. You had forgotten that you had set an alarm at 3:03 am - when Jeongguk had called you. 

And then you saw it - Devil's Crest. 

An arrow-shaped wooden signboard with the name etched on it in a deep red colour, that almost gave the impression of dried blood on rotten wood, was pointing towards a road that had magically branched, creating a turning — leading to an obscurity.

You stopped your car and took a deep breath. A few slow breaths later, the fear of encountering something vicious began to settle on your shoulders. 

The repeated voice of your father telling – “never take the road to Devil's Crest, never take the road to Devil's Crest” – began to reverberate inside your head so loudly that you had to sit down, hold your head and pray for it to go away. 

Why now? Why now of all times? You felt miserable as tears started wetting your lashes. 

Jeongguk! You have to find Jeongguk! You slapped your ears in an attempt to make the voice go away and started taking deep slow breaths to calm yourself down. 

That seemed to work and a few minutes later the voices inside your head had died down. 

Parking your car off the road, you took your backpack and with the flashlight in your hand you stood in front of the signboard. 

The road ahead was iniquitously eerie, and not to mention, dark just like the rest of the area. It made you uneasy and your legs revolted to move. 

You took out the phone from your pocket to see the time but just then something fell off - it was the paper from the cookie. 

You picked it up and in the flashlight you read it again instinctively - 

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN

“When roads are misleading... Never take the road to Devil's Crest…” you mumbled a couple times. Something told you that these two sentences juxtaposing like this was not a mere coincidence and that there must be some connection and intention behind them. 

“What could it be? What could it be?” You asked yourself and swung the flashlight haphazardly around the road and then your eyes and your flashlight loosely hovered over the overgrown bushes and the trees by the side of the road to Devil's Crest and you thought, 

What if I don't take the road and still enter the Devil's Crest? 

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, your legs felt light and a small amount of fear transformed into relief. 

You made your way through the overgrown weeds and grasses in between the trees and thought to go on a parallel line along the road but as soon as you struggled your way through the undergrowth and entered the woods you couldn't see the road anymore, as if you had mistakenly entered a whole different area.

You went back to where you entered and there you saw the Devil's Crest turning and the road. There was no way you were mistaken. 

“It must be because of the darkness,” you told yourself and re-entered the doomy forest. 

You stood there for a moment, worried that it’s going to be difficult to reach the destination, no matter how unknown, if you couldn’t see the road. What if you get lost in this darkness without any way out? 

But this awry feeling at the back of your mind telling you that this was the only way was too heavy, and so with the flashlight being the only source of light, you started walking straight ahead. 

You have been walking for a while now and except the occasional hooting of the owls and a constant chirping of the crickets there was nothing to keep you company. 

You didn't know where exactly to look at since this indomitable darkness was swallowing the light of your flashlight which resulted in you seeing only about a foot around your steps, nothing more. 

You called out Jeongguk's name constantly at regular intervals but with your calls dissipating in the woods, what came back to you as a reply was the annoyed chirps of the sleepy birds. 

You avoided swinging your flashlight around the woods in fear of witnessing something scary and you cursed your brain for reminding you all the countless horror movies you have ever watched right at the moment.

Disappointed and tired, you stopped for a water break and looked at the time. You had been walking for 45 minutes now and with you walking slowly because of the protruding branches and thorns grabbing onto your pants, there seemed to be little to no progress. You looked up and the moon and the stars were still absent, the sky was still black. 

Refusing to give up or take a break you dragged yourself forward with slow steps, on an energy saving mode. 

But then you saw it. Clearly. You were not surrounded by darkness anymore. You had reached a clearing from whose center four clear trails were going four ways and everything was grey, like a black-and-white movie. The moonlight illuminating the area after appearing so suddenly took you by surprise, making you come to an abrupt stop. 

You rubbed your eyes and looked back where you just came out from — it was still lightless. 

Everything around you seemed like something from a fever dream. 

I haven’t fallen asleep in the car, have I? You pinched yourself hard and you felt it quite realistically. 

What the fuck is this place? You glanced around while rubbing the area you pinched. 

Up until you were inside the forest area it smelled like any other woodland - a little musty and damp, rotten woods, several sweet fragrance coming from trees and moist earth. But as soon as you stepped into this part there was a drastic change in the odour. It smelt like cold steel and it set a little heavier on your nose. And then you noticed another weird thing in this already weird environment — a crossroad signpost with four wooden arrows pointing at four different directions making an X, where the trails met. 

Generally, a crossroad signpost at an intersection was something that is very very normal. But here, what made it strange was its heads not pointing towards the trails, instead the areas in between. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to the post. You looked at it intently with your flashlight. They were simple wood cutouts with nothing written on them. 

What are they even pointing at? You directed your flashlight at the grassy areas and each one of the trails. The trails were wide enough for three people to walk side by side and their condition indicated that they were used for regular commute. 

Something felt off. As far as you knew, people avoided taking the shortcut altogether. As far as its bad reputation goes, it seemed highly unlikely that there would be people using these isolated areas to travel. Also, the part of the forest that you came out from didn’t have a trail going in its direction. You were standing in one of the grassy areas just like the areas in between the other trails. That could also mean that one of these trails was connected to the road to the Devil’s Crest for it to at least take the travellers somewhere closer in this area. 

Earlier, just before entering the forest you had checked on your needle compass that the road to the Devil’s Crest was headed south. It was a complete wild guess, an arrow in the darkness, but you decided to take the trail that was headed south. 

You took out your compass from your jacket pocket and faced the southward trail. 

This should be fine, right? You took a long deep breath that made your shoulder go up and down. 

You stared at the road ahead but a heavy feeling in your gut made your body immobile. It made your heart scream to your mind, “I don’t wanna go there.” Your body was stiffening itself in its place, refusing to move forward — an instinctive stance to avoid whatever danger that might be lying ahead. 

You didn’t know how many minutes had passed with you just standing there. As if to give you a nudge, a chilly wind started to blow and a gauzy fog began to settle on the ground. 

To avoid the cold you hung the flashlight on your shoulder by its strings and put both your hands in your puffer jacket pocket. 

Inside your jacket pocket you found the wrapper of the cookie that you ate earlier. You took it out and as soon as you did a gust of wind blew it out of your hand. 

The wrapper, oddly shining in this dull grey environment, flew over to the grassy area to the left side of the southward trail. Along with the wind, the still-motionless fog began to mobilise. Instinctively you dashed towards the wrapper, passing the crossroad signpost, to retrieve it. But before that, for a split second you were quite certain that you noticed the fog through your peripheral vision floating on the trails, mobilized by the wind, moving towards where the trails lead to and there was no trace of them on the rest of the areas.

After grabbing the wrapper you turned around to confirm what you just saw but what you witnessed made you falter backward and you tripped on your own foot and fell on the ground. 

I must be going crazy! What in the Alice In Wonderland shit is this? 

You broke into a cold sweat. You felt the remaining energy from your body leave like a sheet that was covering you, gliding away from you. You were nothing but an object now. 

And your surroundings were nothing but empty now.

It was as if in those past fraction of seconds you weren’t looking, someone had erased everything — there was no crosspost signboard, neither were there any trails. It was just a vast field covered in small grasses, all nothing but grey.

Sitting there you forgot that you had to be somewhere. Your numb brain couldn’t say anything to your body and you sat there staring blankly at the now-empty space in front of you. You could hear a faint constant ringing inside your ears and a slow darkness gradually took over your eyes. 

A yellow light on your eyelids, shivers all over your body and the noise of accumulated chirping made you sit up with a startle. Still heavy with sleep, you rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up properly. 

The first rays of the sun were just touching the area and you discovered the reason behind your shivers. You were sleeping on the ground, under the open sky and needless to say the dews had settled upon you alongside everything. 

You looked around your surroundings - it was the same field that you saw before passing out, except it was now full of colour. The steel-like smell was long gone, instead the air was filled with the smell of wet grass. The sun rays fell upon the dark green leafy trees of the forest that surrounded the field covered in grasses, some plump green, many golden yellow and a few parched brown. Flocks of birds flew across the sky in search of food and the wetness under you seeping through your clothes was making its presence more prominent to you.

The normality of it all made you question whether what you witnessed just a few hours ago was even real. Maybe you had dreamt all of it, you wondered. And that made more sense to you. It definitely was a dream, you concluded. You had been traveling all day and night yesterday without any proper rest and the constant anxiety, along with the trip through the forest must have taken a toll on you. 

Lying down for such a long time in such an uncomfortable position on your side with the haversack still on your back had made your body sore. You took off the haversack and stretched your limbs and massaged your shoulders to make some of the soreness go away. Rubbing your face to remove the leftover haziness from your mind, you got up to get a better view of your surroundings. You were on a comparatively higher ground, which merged to a plain with a gentle slope and you noticed in the far south which seemed hardly a kilometre away from where you were — a mansion built in the old English style. 

“Have I wandered into someone’s private property?” You wondered, even though you were pretty sure you hadn’t noticed any warnings or boundaries on your way here.

Many people didn’t like strangers wandering inside their property and the residents of this mansion could very possibly be one of those, but in this situation your best shot was to risk the chance of getting kicked out with profanities and ask about your missing boyfriend, a way out of this forest to some nearby locality and if they were kind enough, then a moment’s proper rest. 

You put on your haversack and picked up the flashlight that was lying on the ground, luckily unscathed, by your side. 

The valley was uneven like waves which could go unnoticed unless walked on, making it strenuous to cross, but the weather in the morning was really soothing, which made you feel like everything was gonna be alright, and occasionally you stopped to take a brief breather by soaking in the sun with your eyes closed. 

Before your clothes could dry up in the breeze on the way, you found yourself standing in front of the main gate of the mansion. 

The mansion, even though built in the old English style, hardly seemed historic. It was well-cared with a similarly pampered garden.

The latch of the iron gate was unclasped and a stone slab to the right of the gate on the low boundary wall read - The Balam Manor. 

You felt like you had heard the name somewhere before but you couldn’t trigger that particular part of your memory.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” you whispered before letting yourself in through the gate. 

Another sixty metres walk and you were in front of the main door. It had one of those ropes attached with a bell system instead of electronic doorbells. 

You took a deep breath and rang the bell thrice and for the next several minutes you stood there with rapid tapping feets and drifting eyes.

A very tall old man opened the door who you could swear to have seen somewhere before. You looked up and stared at his face trying to figure out this odd sense of knowing but you were soon pulled out of your rigorous digging through your brain by his question, “Yes? How may I help you?” 

“I am sorry for disturbing your perfect morning, good sir, but actually I have come looking for someone and I was wondering if you have seen that person somewhere.” You smiled awkwardly and hoped for your flattery to work to a certain extent. 

The old man scanned you once from head to toe then back to your eyes. Then turning his neck to give a quick glance inside he turned back to you and replied, “Please wait a second. I’ll be right back.” 

Hardly a minute had passed before he came back and he said, “Please take your footwear off and come inside. Our ladyship has permitted you to be invited in.” 

Wow… I never thought I would hear this type of sentence in real life. Do I have to talk like that too? You thought but all you could really say was - thank you. 

The old man led you through a short hallway whose walls were decked out with paintings varying in sizes but all equally gorgeous and weirdly had the same theme — water. 

Midway through the hall room there were two majestic curved staircases leading to the first floor, merging into one platform overhead. 

You were guided into a large lavish living room crossing the staircases, which justified the mansion of such grace. The theme colour of the room was dark navy which adorned the couches, the fireplace, the walls, the curtains and was perfectly balanced with hints of gold and light brown. 

You were mesmerized and couldn’t stop admiring the space you had entered with your mouth agape. 

“Please take a seat. Her grace will be here shortly.” Saying that, the old man disappeared into the right wing hallway of the house. 

You nodded and sat there with fidgety fingers but your eyes were still busy praising all the ornate stuff decorated meticulously.

The room, greatly flooded with sunlight seeping in through the large windows, somehow smelt cold, as if the window was just opened prior to your entrance. But soon it was overcome by the smell of a perfume that felt like a lot of flowers mixed together, almost too sweet for your delicate nose, that seemed to have drifted in earlier than its owner could. 

With the mystery not remaining in hiding any longer, the owner appeared from the right hallway and you found yourself immediately standing up in the presence of an overpowering aura. 

The lady, standing almost at a height of 6ft, was wearing a solid black mermaid gown with a side-buttoned velvet blazer that hugged her slim torso so firmly that it seemed to be doing the work of a corset instead. Her black hair was made into a 50s starlet style and her makeup, in contrast to all the darkness in her dress-up, was light peachy. 

You thought it would be rude to cover your nose in front of her but the smell of the flowers was almost dizzying. Then a second smell hit you. It was of burnt wood. It was lingering subtly in the air and there was no way for you to know where it was coming from. 

The lady gestured you to sit down and she herself sat on the single seater sofa opposite to you. 

“I heard from Duri that you came here looking for someone?” 

“Yes. Let me first apologise for inconveniencing you like this. A complete stranger showing up at your doorstep early in the morning must be bothersome.” 

“Oh, not at all. We get visitors once in a blue moon. So seeing new faces around here is actually a treat for us old souls.” 

Her amicable mood made you feel relieved and your shoulders relaxed visibly. 

“Us old souls? Ma’am, you are far too young to be called an old soul.” Your compliment made her blush.

She smiled shyly and said, “Then I guess my makeup is on point today.” 

You opened your mouth to protest with some more compliments but she started talking. 

“So who are you looking for? We actually might be of some help.” 

With hopeful eyes, you briefly told her about your boyfriend going missing on his way to Moore estate and how you had been searching for him. Intentionally you kept all the help and the supernatural things to yourself. 

“We may have good news for you. We rescued a young man yesterday around dawn at the border of our property. Would you like to visit him and see if he is the boyfriend you mentioned?” The lady asked you with a sympathetic tone. 

You jumped at the possibility and stood up, “Yes! Please! Let me see him.” 

“Sure.” The lady stood up. “Follow me.” Saying so, she started walking towards the left hallway from the entrance. You followed her gliding steps. She stopped in front of the last room, and with a quick yet heavy exhale she opened the door. 

You entered behind her and rushed to the king size bed when she made way for you. 

It was Jeongguk. It really was Jeongguk. He was lying on the bed on his back with the lower half of his body covered in a comforter. He had a white cotton henley shirt with lace string on which you recognised wasn’t his. He was breathing slowly and he had a bandage going around his head which ran through the middle of his forehead. 

You sat by his side on the floor and held his hand. You couldn’t begin to express how grateful you were. The heavy stone in your heart was finally melting and you gave in to the urge of crying that you had been holding since yesterday. 

“Thank you. Thank you for being here.” Holding his right hand, you rubbed it gently against your forehead and placed a long kiss on it. 

Seeing no response from him, worry started to settle in your mind again. You turned towards the lady and asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, what happened to him? Why isn’t he responding?” 

“Oh dear.” The lady briskly walked towards you and reached out her hand towards you. You took a few seconds to grasp what she was trying to do and then you slowly placed your hand in hers and let her guide you up towards the small couch that was seated beside the window of the room. 

Sitting so close to her, the burning smell along with the stinging flowery scent hit your nose brutally. You let out a quick cough to ease that squeezing feeling around you.

She held your hand in a sympathetic manner and began to explain, “Yesterday dawn, at around 4 am, Duri found him near our border property in the far south. He was unconscious which seemed to have resulted from him driving straight into a tree ahead. Duri brought him to our home immediately. We have an in-house doctor who treated him but he hasn’t regained consciousness since. The doctor has informed us that he is out of any life-threatening danger. He just needs to regain his consciousness. So don’t worry. He is doing better than you are giving him credit for.” 

She smiled at you but you couldn’t help but feel anxious. You glanced at Jeongguk for a mere second and asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to take him to a hospital now instead of just waiting? I am sorry. I am not trying to undermine your doctor’s judgment but it’s just that a hospital seems to be a more efficient option. So if you don’t mind, please can you tell your attendants to show me where Jeongguk’s car is? I think it'd be better if I get going right now.” 

The room was dimly lit by a candle lamp and the sunlight was playing hide and seek with the room by seeping in through the heavily drawn curtains which were slowly quivering because of the wind trying to get inside from outside. 

In that flickering light you felt like you saw the lady’s face harden for a split second before easing into an almost condescending smile, “Oh dear, you mustn’t have properly heard what I was saying earlier. I can understand. Grief, anxiety, stress do that to people. His car had driven straight ahead into a tree so it’s severely damaged. A mechanic is currently working on it in one of our warehouses.”

“Then can I at least use your phone to call an ambulance? I think that’d be an even better option anyway. He’ll start getting treatment on the way.” 

“We don’t have cellular networks here. Neither do we have a landline connection. You must have noticed that there are no electric wires near our mansion. In case of emergencies, Duri himself has to go and bring back any expert needed. I am afraid we live an exceptionally solitary life. If we had a car we could have arranged for his transportation at the earliest hour but as you can tell we are very old fashioned so we only use horses and carriages which I daresay is not the best option to have him ride on in this condition. I would suggest you to save your worry and hope that his car gets repaired soon. I’ll leave you be until then.” 

The lady, without sparing another glance, walked out of the room, leaving you wondering if you said something that offended her greatly. 

You couldn’t understand why this household would choose to live in such helpless conditions when the world has progressed so much. What if there was a life or death situation? They wouldn’t even be able to get some help. 

You sighed heavily and dragging a chair you sat near Jeongguk. You thought it would be best to just wait for his car to get repaired then get out of here as soon as possible. The people here had already gone out of their way for your boyfriend. It was rude of you to question and tell them what would be better when they were already doing their best with everything at their disposal. 

You held your boyfriend’s hand, which felt colder than it did a moment ago and said, “I should say sorry, right? I’ll be right back.” 

You placed a chaste kiss on his hand and pulled the comforter upto his neck before leaving the room to look for the lady of the house and also for the doctor; Jeongguk’s temperature wasn’t normal. 

The living room was empty. In fact, you didn’t get the hint of anybody being present throughout your way. You felt like you were the only one in the entire mansion. 

There was an eerie feeling that sat in your gut and just to confirm that weird suspicion, you ran back to the room where Jeongguk was. You let out a quick relieved sigh as soon as you saw Jeongguk, just as you had left him. 

You let your body let itself find comfort in the cushiony chair and you decided to look for others a little later. You told yourself that no matter how detached this place was from the rest of the world, the people living here still have work to do. They couldn’t loiter around some unannounced guest all the time. 

•••

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the atmosphere was quite grim for Lady Ruth Livingston and her loyal servant Duri. 

This kitchen was located in an extended part of the mansion, outside the main building and could only be accessed through a secret passage built along the rear side wall of the building. Apparently, according to her husband, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, kitchen inside a home ruins the vibe of the home. The secret passageway, while serving as a regular route for the servants for accessing the different parts of the manor like the kitchens, the laundry rooms and the servant quarters, also served the role of an escapeway and had a backdoor for emergency exit if there was any danger. Although, there was no way of telling the back door from the outside since it was camouflaged with the entire wall — much like the windows that were lined up with the windows of the main living room, creating optical illusions of a singular wall in place of two. 

After leaving you alone inside the mansion, Lady Ruth had immediately made her way towards the kitchen with a grave expression on her face. As soon as she neared the kitchen, Duri, who was preparing meat for jjigae, brought the cushioned mahogany chair that was only used by his owner and kept it near the entrance, outside the kitchen — for the lady had a deep distaste for heat.

“Are you quite done with the preparations?” Lady Ruth asked after taking her seat. 

Duri, who had immediately taken his position near his lady’s feet, sat kneeling down while supporting his hips on his ankles for some comfort. 

He slowly shook his head and answered, “Not really, milady. It seems preparing physical food is quite the task.” 

“Then summon some minions and get it done at the earliest. The lass is getting on my nerves. I can’t figure out how she ended up here!” 

“Surely, milady.” Duri gave a polite nod. 

“Are you keeping something from me?” Seeing his owner leaning towards him, Duri gulped and then stuttered, “I- I saw her last night driving past the station.” 

“Did you do what you were supposed to?” With her face awfully close to Duri’s, she ran a single line with her cold index finger from near Duri’s ear across, over his jaw line. 

“I d- did, milady. But she never stopped for gas!” Noticing the little tremors running through Duri’s hand, Lady Ruth smirked. 

“Must I remind you that your job is to lead people into the Devil’s Crest no matter how! You must feed them or their belongings. If you don’t do your job properly how am I supposed to take care of myself? You are not supposed to slack off, Duri. See what happened, just because you let someone off the hook and they didn’t stop at your stupid little gas station! This must mean you have let a good number of souls just go by without me knowing!” 

Duri’s lips trembled. “I… I- I am extremely sorry, milady. It won’t ever happen again. P- Please I beg for your forgiveness.” 

“Oh, Duri… I wish it was this easy for me to forgive. One must punish disobedient pets to make sure they don’t repeat the same mistake twice. You have been ignorant while knowing what I feel. And more times than you should be forgiven for. I think I must remind you again what it feels like to be me so you could be more diligent next time.” 

Lady Ruth Livingston snaked her left hand behind Duri’s neck and held his jaw firmly with her other hand and placed her lips on his. In her firm hold, Duri couldn’t protest. He closed his eyes as he felt her tongue touch his and her fingers pressed on the binding emblem on his neck. Duri winced as a fast burning sensation spread across his entire body. The mild sensation soon turned into a blazing fire all over his body. Duri’s screams got lost somewhere inside Lady Ruth’s mouth. 

By the time it ended, Duri had no energy to even stay seated. In barely a minute, he was half his usual body and his skin developed new wrinkles.

Looking at Duri’s wheezing body on the floor, Lady Ruth wiped her lips and said, “My husband would have been so heartbroken if he saw me shoving my tongue down some other man’s throat.” She smiled and gently stroked Duri’s hair, “I am so glad that he is dead.” 

Duri weakly glanced at her but couldn’t say anything. 

Seeing him like that, Lady Ruth got up and said, “My poor Duri. I’ll summon the minions in your stead to have the lunch prepared in time. She has a strong aura. Her distress will ease my pain like no other.” 

•••

“When do you think you’ll be able to come and visit my parents?” You asked and smiled bashfully, imagining Jeongguk asking your parents for your hand in marriage. 

“I seriously can’t wait, babe. I just want to run to you right now and take you in my arms and kiss you until you get tired of it!” Jeongguk exclaimed, hardly being able to contain his happiness or excitement.

“You mean until forever ends?” You replied. 

“Mhm. Yes, that’s exactly how long I am planning.” You could feel Jeongguk’s smile through the call. 

“You have to get here first though.”

“I’m getting out right now! How am I going to wait for seven whole hours? Hm? My sweetest wifey?” 

“Woah. Not yet, mister.”

“Soon to be. Soon to be~.” 

“Yes… Very soon. But you don't have to rush. You can just come here on the weekend. Otherwise your boss will give you an earful.” 

“But-” 

“No ‘buts’. I promise I'll be fine. And it's just three days anyways.” 

“Hmph. Okay. Fine. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

That fateful morning everything in your little world in Moore Estate changed when you found out you were pregnant. When you called Jeongguk to let him know, he reciprocated the same happiness as you felt. You felt like a large part of your empty heart was filling up. 

But soon everything took an upsetting turn when you received a call from Hoseok’s sister that same evening about Hoseok going missing. 

A couple of months ago Hoseok had moved into a mansion in the outskirts that a long-distance uncle of his had left for him in his will. Hoseok had been in a hurry to move out and get married so he had leaped at the offer and wanted to move in as soon as possible to remodel the mansion. After that, communication with him gradually became scarce which you just ruled out as him being busy remodeling the house. 

You wanted to visit his mansion right away but when you called Jeongguk to let him know about the situation he strictly opposed it and insisted on accompanying you there. 

Your estate fell on the way to Hoseok’s new place, though it was still a considerable distance away. So you had suggested to Jeongguk to pick you up from your estate and then both of you could go there together. 

Now all of it screamed wrong decision and you blamed yourself for not warning your boyfriend beforehand. 

•••

“Excuse me, milady. Her grace is waiting for you in the living room. Please let me lead you. We have prepared some refreshments.” Your remorseful revisitation to that day was interrupted by Duri who was standing at the door. 

“Sure.” You got up. You looked back at Jeongguk and said, “I’ll be right back.” 

You followed Duri — who appeared a bit worn out and definitely older than he seemed that morning — to the living room. You sat on a two seater sofa opposite the lady of the house; the ornate low table in front of you was filled with a huge variety of cookies and a cup of ginseng tea was kept in front of you. 

“I am really sorry. I feel like it was really rude of me how I talked to you earlier. You are not obliged to but you are still helping us so much. I can’t even begin to thank you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you?” You said, thinking it was only fair to apologise since she only offered what she thought was best. 

“We can start with introductions. I am Ruth Amelia Livingston.” Lady Ruth took her cup of tea from the table and signalled you to take yours before taking a sip. 

You stammered before answering, surprised at her instant acceptance of your apology, “S- sure. I am Park Sowon.” 

“That’s a beautiful name. I have never really liked my name, so my husband always lovingly called me Balam. He used to say that I am ungraspable like the wind.” Putting the hot cup on the plate in her left hand she smiled sadly. 

“Used to? He doesn’t anymore?” You asked without thinking.

“Well, yes. I wish you could meet him. He was a jolly man. When he was alive, this building felt alive too. He took its life with him when he left for the afterworld.” 

“I am sorry… for your loss. It must be really hard losing the love of your life… I can’t even begin to imagine how I am going to continue to live on if something happens to Jeongguk.” Your voice cracked remembering the fact that you almost did. 

“Well, you learn to live with the pain… I loved him alright. But he… loved me more. I daresay I am rather thankful that he didn’t live to see my death.” Her nonchalant words left you momentarily speechless. 

Before the atmosphere could get awkward you said, smiling thinly, “Accepting to be in sorrow rather than letting your loved one live in that situation is an act of tremendous love in itself. I think you love your husband as much as he used to.”

“Oh my, aren’t you a charmer? Thank you, dear. You are the first person whose words comforted me so deeply since my husband’s passing.” She kept her right hand on yours and looked at you with a warm smile, unlike her frigid hands; you noticed her tears staying at the edge of her eyelid margin. 

“I think I should apologise too.” She continued after sitting straight. 

You looked at her questioningly while picking up the third cookie from the plate. 

“As I told you earlier, we live in a completely different world than yours. And I was inconsiderate of your feelings, quite shamefully so. You were right in getting worried. And I only thought of how I have always handled things here. I am sorry for that.” 

“No please, it’s alright. I can see your point of view now. Thank you for being so kind again.” You paused. Something stirred inside you, like a big sadness that had been dormant for a long time at the bottom of your heart seeping out slowly. 

“Actually, I have lost someone precious to me too, a long time ago, in a very similar incident. Perhaps that’s the reason why I have been so sensitive.”

You glanced at her as if you needed a moment before uttering the words, “It was my father.” The last word got mingled with the sadness stuck in your throat. 

“Oh dear, what happened to him?” Lady Ruth kept her empty cup on the table and looked at you with concern. 

You looked at her but your eyes couldn’t see her anymore — you were taken back to the time that you hated remembering the most. 

•••

Winter was just beginning to settle itself in the early October air when one night your dad had suddenly showed up at your boarding school and filled out a form requesting your emergency leave for a week. 

Be it for his whimsical nature or his adventurous mind, on numerous occasions he had taken you to many such impromptu trips. Despite being so used to such endeavours of your most favourite person in the world, your fifteen year old self couldn’t help but take notice of the anxiousness that his face wore that night. You knew almost instantaneously that this wasn’t one of your trips. 

After an hour-long train ride from the city, you got off at the nearest train station from your locality. But as soon as you did so, your dad took you directly to the car parked in the parking lot of the station — which was unusual since your dad always bought you pretzels from a particular store after getting off there. 

Luckily, unlike other times you didn’t feel hungry as an old lady with long white hair who was sitting on the opposite seat to yours offered two cookies each to you and your dad, but your dad being too anxious to eat had given you his share as well. 

“We don’t have much time so I am going to step on it, alright? Hold tight.” Your dad had said before racing straight into the shortcut that no one knew the name of and no one bothered to keep one either — for everyone it was just a shortcut that everyone should avoid. 

Why is dad taking this dark road? You couldn’t help but feel concerned. 

The only things that provided little comfort were that it was your dad you were with, and the speed at which he was driving to take you home soon. 

Soon you had passed the very same gas station that you had no idea that you would be crossing again eleven years later. 

Your dad had told you some things about the gas station that you took as nothing more than a joke to lighten the atmosphere. 

When you reached home at around 2am, the churning feeling inside your gut gave away its reason for being. 

You saw your mom, your aunt-in-law, your grandparents and all the people that worked in your estate gathered in the hallroom with grave expressions. As soon as you entered the room your grandmother had taken you into her embrace and weeped. 

“What’s going on?” You had asked. 

Before anyone could answer you, you felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder and you turned around. He sat you on the sofa and crouching down on his knee he held your hands, “Sweetheart, your uncle is missing along with his friend… And I must go find them and bring them back.” 

“But what about the police?” 

“It’s my responsibility… I must be the one to go. The police won’t be of much help anyways. Don’t worry, I will surely bring them back. You just have to be the absolute sweetheart as you are and stay with your mom, alright?” Saying so, your dad stood up and with a slight nod at everyone, he walked out of the house. 

You couldn’t stand watching him go away like that so you yanked your hand out of your mom’s and ran after him. 

He was just about to get into his car but he stopped when he heard you call him. You ran and hugged him tightly, “Take me with you, please dad. It will be faster if we look together, won’t it? I am sure we will be able to spot them quicker and be back home even before dawn breaks. Dad? Please say something!” 

Your dad broke himself out of your hug and sat on the car seat. He gently wiped the tears off of your face and kissed your forehead and murmured, “My sweet angel… I have already put your uncles in danger because of my foolishness… How can I put you in a similar situation when I know what might lie ahead…” 

His words sent an uneasy fear down your spine but he didn’t let you question him. Instead he immediately held your arms and looked into your eyes with a serious expression, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!” 

You shook your head, “Only if you promise to come back by morning.” 

Your dad smiled sadly and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be back soon.”

You wiped his tears gently and as the other family members started to come out, you quickly whispered, “It’s not your fault, dad.” 

Seeing the others, he hurriedly got into his car. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and before driving off he said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

Your “I love you too” subsided in the ground with the descending mist. 

•••

You lowered your face into your palms trying to stop the streaming of warm tears into your warm hands.

You had no idea when Lady Ruth had sat beside you but when you felt her hand gently stroking your hair and back, you looked up at her and wiped your wet cheeks, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bawl my eyes out like this.” You chuckled, “It’s just that I suddenly miss him so much.” 

Lady Ruth smiled awkwardly, “Do you know why people avoid the shortcut?”

You shook your head.

“There’s a rumour that plagues this area… that a witch haunts the shortcut road and its surroundings. That she takes people's souls to feed herself. Many people have gone missing over the years, fueling the rumour, eventually forcing people to avoid this area altogether.” 

“Have you seen that witch?” You asked as goosebumps lined your skin. 

Lady Ruth scoffed, “No, I haven’t. Though Duri has witnessed some gruesome murders by poachers who come to the forest to hunt for the rare pangolins but encounter humans instead. Sometimes one or two lucky humans make it out of their harsh luck…” She paused. Then looking in your eyes she said, “Eleven years ago one such human sought refuge in our home. He was badly injured and he did his best to hold up for a week. But we couldn’t avoid the misfortune. His… name was Park Yunseok.” 

For a moment you felt like there was a heavy stone placed on your head and you were drowning. You couldn’t breath and your ears rang a constant tone. 

Your face contorted as you dug up the word from inside your throat, “D-Dad?” 

“I am afraid so…” Lady Ruth said. “Would you like to visit his grave?” 

Did you? You didn’t have the courage — neither to find the answer to your question, nor to face your father’s resting place. 

But I should. Otherwise how would your dad feel that you came this near and didn’t visit him?

“I should.” You replied. 

“Yeah.” Lady Ruth smiled faintly and stroked your hair one more time before getting up. 

You walked behind Lady Ruth and Duri as they led you to the south-east part of their property. After walking for a few minutes through their immaculately taken care of and beautifully designed garden, you reached a small perfectly mowed yard. At the end of the yard, there was a small patch of land that was covered in gerbera daisies and in the middle you saw your dad’s grave housed in marble and an epitaph - rising a foot above the ground - that said — 

HERE LIES THE MAN WHO GRACED THE EARTH WITH THE SMILE MOST BEAUTIFUL

PARK YUNSEOK

PUT TO REST - 17 OCTOBER OF YEAR 2131 

You sat beside his grave and smiled looking at the daisies surrounding it, “He must have told you about his favourite flower..” You looked up at Lady Ruth and said, “Thank you. I know he… likes it here.” 

You looked down immediately to hide your fresh batch of tears and requested quickly, “Can I have a moment with him alone, please?” 

“Of course, my dear. We’ll be going back to the house. Take your time.” You didn’t look up as you nodded but you could feel them leaving. 

A few minutes passed with you staring at the ground then you slowly looked to your back to make sure they were far enough. 

You slowly looked back and touched the grave — first with just the tip of your fingers and then with your palm. Despite the sun over your head the stone was cold and you started stroking it gently. 

“Dad… Is it cold in there? I am sorry… I couldn’t arrange for your cremation or hold a proper funeral for you. Still I am glad that you met some decent people to be there for you in your last moments and they made you a nice place to rest. Don’t worry. I’ll be a good girl and thank them properly.” 

You paused to take a deep breath and as it slowly left your lungs in a shaky exhale, your chest hurt as if thousand hammers were going off at once. 

The fatigue of all of the years you were looking for your dad came crashing down on you all at once — the memories of going through the tireless four years of nosebleeding university life, becoming an official detective, tolerating the prejudices, swallowing the scoldings for trying to gather information about your dad’s whereabouts, being told off for using police resources and time for personal use and finally quitting the job to look for him independently — like a tsunami.

“Dad…” Another shaky breath escaped your lungs and you couldn’t control your tears anymore. “I am… I am sorry dad… I should have been there for you. It must have been so hard for you to not see any of us in your last moments. I am sorry dad. I wish it was me instead of you. Dad, I miss you so much…” You didn’t care if your voice was going to disturb the noiseless peace around here, you wailed calling your dad and hugged the grave as much as you could. The tears streaming down your cheeks mixed with your running nose wetted the grave and the coldness of the stone felt a little warm. 

“Dad.. dad… can’t you ask God for a second chance? Can’t you beg him to send you back in time? That way you could prevent that awful night from happening and you could see me grow up and get married to Jeongguk and play with your grandkids… That way mom wouldn’t be sad and mom wouldn’t marry Jiho and I wouldn’t have to call him ‘dad’... I hate it when mom forces me to call him dad in front of others… I hate it. He is not my dad. No one can ever take your place, dad. Please come back, dad. And tell me that you are proud of me and I grew up just the way you hoped I would. Dad… Dad? Please say something. Call me and wake me up from this nightmare… Dad…” Your breath hitched and you started having trouble breathing because of your blocked nose. The pain in your chest increased and you felt sick in your stomach. 

You stood up and ran outside the flower patch and vomited everything that you had eaten a while ago. You felt dizzy and a burning irritation shot up from your throat to your nose to your brain. With weak steps, you reached the grave and hugged it to get some rest and a much sought comfort. 

••• 

From the window of her bedroom, which was located at the far south-east of the manor, Ruth Livingston was watching you with her vintage brass binoculars. Her lips twitched at its corner and her eyes gleamed in ecstasy. 

Never peeling her eyes away from you she addressed her loyal servant Duri who was standing upright by the door and exclaimed, “Tch tch. Poor thing. Crying, wailing, writhing in pain… all on a grave that’s not even real.” 

Her laughter resounded throughout her bedroom and she felt an unparalleled joy, “If just watching her like this is this satisfying, then imagine how wonderful I am going to feel when she becomes a part of my collection? She should be ready by now. Go, bring her. I can’t wait anymore.” 

“Right away, your grace.” Duri replied and turned to leave. 

But right then her shout compelled Duri to turn back around instantaneously, “NO! No no no! Don’t! Don’t ruin my happiness, you disgusting vile little rat! Duri! Look at her! She is vomiting all the feeds! She is emptying her guts on my beautiful flower beds! Bring her back at once!” 

•••

You must have fallen asleep after getting tired because of the physical and emotional toll all the crying took on your body. When you woke up you found yourself lying down on the couch in Jeongguk’s room. 

You sat up slowly and softly placed your palms on your swollen eyes. The darkness of the room made you wonder how long you have been out of it. 

Jeongguk was still unconscious. As you watched him from your position it was hard to even tell whether he was breathing or not. 

You got up and sat near Jeongguk. His body temperature was still on the colder perimeter; the only thing that somewhat assured you was his slow breathing. 

You held his hand as tears accumulated in your eyes again. 

I don’t think I can survive losing someone again.

••• 

“Ah! This is so amusing! Ha ha ha!” Swaying in her armchair, Ruth Livingston laughed like she hadn't in a very long time. 

“Duri, you never told me it was this enthralling to catch prey! I am thinking of joining you from now on. On that note, prepare a scrumptious feast for her. I want her to be well fed so that she has the energy to cry a little more! Ah! I didn't expect her to react like that… Now I have to make another miscarriage potion, which is going to take a while. It’s a little setback that I cannot have her with an untainted soul living inside her but that only means I can play with her a little longer. Prepare that thing beforehand so I can give it to her after lunch.”

Duri bowed deeply and silently left the room to carry out the order he was given. 

•••

When you were at the hospital, a few years back, because of appendix surgery, the nurses and the doctors constantly came to check up on you and feed you medicine at designated times. What reminded you of that time was the fact that it had been almost seven hours since you came here and you hadn't seen the doctor — that lady Ruth doted on so much — visit Jeongguk even for once!   

It was worrisome. You didn't want to keep Jeongguk in such a neglectful situation when you didn't have any idea how severe his injuries were. 

His body was getting colder by the minute and his appearance turned paler; it didn't even feel like a living person's body anymore. 

I have to pressure the mechanic myself to repair Jeongguk's car within today, preferably before the sun sets.

You kept Jeongguk's hand down by his side gently and got out of the room. Duri was standing right outside the door which startled you. As soon as he saw you he politely said, “It’s time for lunch, milady. I have come to escort you.” 

“Oh! Thank you, sir.” You replied immediately. 

Tch! I should have denied and asked him to lead me to the mechanic.

“Please call me Duri. I am not to be addressed as ‘sir’ by a guest of this manor.” Duri said in his usual stoic manner. 

You didn’t want to argue on ways this household worked so you just decided to ask him about the whereabouts of the mechanic instead, “Oh… Okay. By the way, Duri, can you tell me where the warehouse is where Jeongguk’s car is getting fixed?” 

There was a moment’s pause before he replied, “I must have her grace’s permission before taking you there, milady. You can ask her for yourself at the table.” 

“That I shall do then.” You replied and nodded your head to yourself. 

You were led into the dining room where Lady Ruth was already seated. The long and finely polished Indian rosewood dining table with a capacity to seat fourteen people, in the middle of the room, painted in a combination of matte orange and Carolina blue, had long fallen from its prime with only Lady Ruth being its sole user. 

It was indeed a surprise to you — you didn’t know what you were expecting but it was certainly not her words being true about the only three residents of this vast mansion.

I would be out of my wits if I had to live alone like this in a single place. 

After you took your seat, Duri started bringing in dishes one by one and it felt like his trips from the food trolley to the dining table were never ending. Before long, the table was filled with delicacies, most of which you were seeing for the first time. 

“Please dig in. Duri here is no less than a Michelin chef.” Lady Ruth said with a proud smile. 

Your eyes travelled over all the dishes that covered the table and you couldn’t imagine how Duri managed to prepare all these single handedly in such a short time especially taking into consideration the fact that it took you at least one hour to prepare only three dishes. 

You took a bite from the savory appetiser placed right in front of you. Your head immediately turned towards Duri who was standing by the food trolley and you exclaimed with big eyes, “Duri, this is seriously so delicious! With this skill you should consider becoming a professional chef! You would totally kill it!” 

A bewildered expression flashed on Lady Ruth’s face which you luckily caught instantly and you corrected yourself immediately, “I mean not literally kill anything. It’s a figure of speech that people use nowadays to say that someone would be outstandingly good at something. Ha ha. Please don’t misunderstand.” 

There wasn’t much of a muscle movement on Duri’s face and you were relieved when you saw the proud smile on her lips returning, “That’s a dangerous figure of speech. Anyway, I told you so. Though I don’t know if he’ll be wanting to leave me alone here.” 

You quickly glanced at Duri, then to Lady Ruth and said, “I am sure he isn’t willing to.” 

Lady Ruth didn’t say anything but the smile did grow a little. 

You waited for a moment to pass before asking, “By the way, your grace, if possible I would like to meet the mechanic to know how the repair is going. Gguk’s… I mean Jeongguk’s condition is worsening and I am sorry if I sound rude but I haven’t seen your doctor visit him even once since I arrived…” 

Lady Ruth swallowed the food in her mouth and looked at Duri, “Duri?” 

“Doctor Jung stopped by twice to check on Miss Park’s boyfriend since morning — once when your graces were having tea and the second time when Miss Park was not conscious. He also checked up on Miss Park while he was there and said that he’d talk to her when she is awake.” All this while Duri answered looking at Lady Ruth and his eyes never wavered your way, not even when he mentioned your name in front of you as if you were not present in the same room. His behaviour was telling you how insignificant you were to a mere servant of this manor and that you should watch how you speak with the master of this very manor. You couldn’t refute, as the guilt of your own words felt heavier on your tongue than the insult on your chest. 

“I am sorry. I didn’t know.” You managed to raise your voice a notch higher than a mumble. 

“Please don’t worry about it. People behave in a lot of ways when they are not informed about certain situations. Especially when they are desperate. So I can understand you. Duri will take you to the warehouse after lunch. Please finish your meal.” After saying this to you with her voice as calm as ever she went back to eating. 

Both of you ate silently, and soon you had finished everything that was served to you, which was, considering your regular eating capacity, quite excessive. 

After the table was cleared, you were led to the living room. Duri brought an envelope on a small tray. Lady Ruth took the envelope and handed it to you and said, “Your father… left this with us.” 

Even before you could open the envelope, tears accumulated in your eyes. You sat down and wiped your wet eyes before taking out the note. 

It was a short letter written on a torn diary page. 

My sweet angel, the light of my life, 

Please forgive this cruel dad of yours for not keeping the promise he made. I am sorry that I had to leave like that and now… I am leaving again… I wish I could see you one last time. 

The letter ended abruptly. You flipped to see if there’s anything more but there wasn’t. You checked the envelope and found a polaroid inside it which was a picture of you and him, that was taken on your fifth birthday picnic, that he always kept in his wallet. 

The heaviness inside your throat was back again and you found it hard to breathe. Not wanting to put the burden of consoling you on your hosts, you said as your voice trembled, “I’ll excuse myself to Jeongguk’s room. Sorry.” 

You darted out of there and couldn’t notice the slight nod that Lady Ruth gave you, nor the light crooked smile that formed on her lips. 

Entering the room, you closed the door behind you and let yourself slide down its length. Your chest hurt. The pain hung on your rib cages like rotten branches and no matter how much you pounded on them to make them go away, they didn’t. Defeated, you hugged your knees close to yourself and cried on them and there was only one thought that reverberated throughout your brain. 

Dad, please come back. 

In search of comfort, you went to sit on the chair kept beside Jeongguk. Holding his cold hands you kept your head on the bed. Your fingers fiddled with his pale ones and your unceasing tears wetted his bedsheet. You wished he would wake up any time now and would hug you until you felt better. 

Your tears slowed down as minutes went by and your line of vision got clearer. But the person who came in after swinging the door open with all his might made you rub your eyes for a good moment to get the clearest view because how the hell is Hoseok here?

You sat up straight but you were too dumbstruck to stand up and react in a way you would when you saw him normally. 

“Wonwon! Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Wonwon speak to me!” You could faintly hear him enquire you while checking your pulse. You were too busy processing the sense of familiarity that you had been seeking all this while to answer him. The sound of his nickname for you — that he had given you when you two were just little kids with runny noses in preschool because pronouncing ‘Sowon’ was too much for him — fell on your ears like holding a warm mug of cocoa in a freezing winter evening.

When the layer of daze wore off you hugged him tightly and exclaimed, “I am… totally fine… now! I am just so so happy to see you, Hoba! So happy! Are you even real? I am not seeing things, am I? How are you even here in the first place?” 

Hoseok sighed in relief and breaking out of your hug he smiled, “What do you mean ‘how’? I live here!” 

After he made you sit back on the chair he sat on the floor and said, “I sent you my address, don’t you remember?” 

Hearing him say that, you finally remembered the text he sent you with his location just before moving in — The Balam Manor, Witch’s Cradle.

No wonder the name seemed so familiar when you read it initially at the entrance. 

But you still had many questions that needed to be answered so you asked him, “I remember now. But your sister called and told me that they couldn’t reach you for many days. You must have sent them your location, haven’t you?” 

“Really?” Hoseok looked puzzled. “I have sent them my location, I remember for sure. Have they gone to the wrong place? And moreover, I couldn’t reach them for a few days now, so I was thinking of visiting them, but we found Jeongguk and I couldn’t just leave him like this.” 

“Wait, Hoba! You said you inherited this mansion and you were going to renovate it… Then what’s Lady Ruth doing here?” 

“Oh… that?” Hoseok smiled awkwardly; you thought he even looked a little sad. “There’s been a mix up. I did inherit it kind of but Aunty Ruth, my uncle’s wife, is still alive, and even though uncle had written it off to me, aunty still has some right on it so it was decided that this floor will be aunty’s for as long as she lives. And the remaining floors above, that is, the first and second, are mine.” 

“Are you okay? What about Ji-a? Is she okay with this?” You asked. 

“Well, you know her. She is a bit taken aback. But the good thing is that she said she will prepare her mind about this situation and join me in a few days and help me with the renovations.” 

“Well Ji-a has always been a sensible one!” You smiled. 

“Just like her boyfriend.” Hoseok smiled smugly. 

“Yeah, of course.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“So you are the in-house doctor that Lady Ruth mentioned!” You squinted your eyes playfully at Hoseok.

“Is that how she talked about me?” He asked. “Well, can’t blame her. She didn’t know that we knew each other. Not gonna lie that I don’t feel a little bad though… She still hasn't fully accepted me. That’s understandable as well. Imagine someone you never heard of comes and says that your dead husband has given your home to them! I would totally go berserk. She still is willing to cooperate.” 

“Yeah…” Your voice trailed off. After Hoseok’s comment about ‘dead husband’ you could barely pay attention to what he was saying as your eyes wandered to Jeongguk and the ache in your chest was back. 

Hoseok followed your eyes and held your hands, “Wonwon… don’t worry. He has made it out of the most critical phase. Just give him some time, he will get better. I am taking care of him.” 

“Hoba…” Your voice trembled as you looked back at your best friend. “I don’t doubt your skill but look at him… How much more time do you think we should spend on just letting him lie down here like this? He is getting paler and colder. If it wasn’t for his slow breaths I would have thought I had lost him… Please Hoba, we have to get him to a hospital!” 

Your words put Hoseok in deep thought. After a brief moment of silence he sighed and said, “You are right. No matter how much effort I put in it won’t be enough. There’s no suitable equipment here as there would be in a hospital. I heard Jeongguk’s car is in the warehouse. Do you want to go check on its status?” 

You stood up immediately and said, “That’s what I have been trying to do since before lunch! Let’s go at once!” 

“Let me lead you there, milady.” Hoseok smiled. 

“I see Duri has rubbed off on you.” You laughed. And Hoseok laughed back and tried to mimic Duri, “Is that so, milady?”

The warehouse was behind the manor in the north. It was a big wooden building, or one could say a humongous room with a slanting wooden roof that could house at least twenty SUV cars with enough space to open doors fully in between them. It seemed like a total waste of space to see a single car with a tattered front being repaired at the side. 

When you two walked up to the car, a person wearing a grey vest and black mechanic pants emerged from under the vehicle. 

Seeing you two, he got up and waved at Hoseok, “Hey, Dr. Jung! Good to see you!” 

His accent was of the city that suddenly felt so out of place here and no matter how much you tried to shake it off, you couldn’t help but think that he looked like the Korean version of Vin Diesel. 

Hoseok extended his hand for a handshake but he refused, showing his hands laced with car grease and oil. Then he asked Hoseok with a smile, “And who this pretty lady here might be?” 

“She is the girlfriend of the owner of the car you are fixing, Park Sowon.” Hoseok answered him.

“Ouch! There goes my chance for a date night. Anyways, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sowon-ssi! This humble man’s name is Lim Seokga. But you can lovingly call me Seok.” He smiled and bowed like a gentleman. 

“It’s nice to meet you too Seokga-ssi.” In reality all you wanted to say was - You are a mile away from humbleness Mr. Lim, like you should be from me.

You bowed back slightly and smiled awkwardly. You looked at Hoseok and pleaded with your eyes to rescue you from these unsolicited flirtations. 

He seized your signal like a spy would from his fellow in espionage and he grinned at Seokga and pretended to whisper as if he was trying to be his wingman, “Seokga-ssi, Sowon-ssi is a bit tense right now. Why don’t you show off your skills and explain the condition of the car to her?” 

Seokga gave Hoseok a smirk of approval and turned around to face the dinged up car. You noticed a symbol that almost looked like a fancy tattoo branded on his neck that started at the top of his neck and ran a couple inches along his spine. The burnt mark seemed sizzling fresh as if he had it done a few minutes ago and somehow you could feel the pain that it must have inflicted to come into existence.

Seokga kept his hand on the bonnet of the car and started explaining, “Anyways, Sowon-ssi, date night or not, I must do my job. You have come to know about the condition of the car, right? In short terms, it’s not really good. I am quite embarrassed to say this but it can only be repaired at the showroom. It’s not a one person job.” 

You felt anger bubble up at the pit of your throat. You felt like you had been standing in a long queue for half a day in front of an empty shop. 

You tried to sound as calm as you could, “So you're telling me you have been working on this car for a full day knowing that you can’t fix it?” 

“Full day? I arrived just this morning! And I never said I can’t fix it. I said I need manpower and the facilities.” Seokga tried to defend his honour behind his cheeky answer. 

You knew better than to argue with a man like him.

“Ridiculous!” You muttered under your breath and gritted teeth before leaving the warehouse with hurried strides. 

When you walked in, Lady Ruth was in the living room instructing Duri about the arrangement of your stay for the night. 

“I am afraid, your grace, I don’t think I can stay for the night. If I take off now I can bring an ambulance back with me at earliest tonight.” You announced. 

Lady Ruth stared at you for a good few seconds as if trying to make sense of the nonsense you just sputtered out. 

“I think that would have been for the best. He needs better care but I am afraid I have some bad news for you. It seems that a tempest is expected this evening. I don’t think it would be wise to set out now.” She said calmly. 

The bewilderment from a moment ago hadn’t yet dissipated from within you and hearing this now, you felt terribly angry, as if you were being held captive. You looked out the window and exclaimed, “The weather seems totally fine to me! There isn’t even a single dark cloud in the sky yet! It didn’t take me long to reach here. I am certain if you don’t stall me further I will be able to make it out of here before the storm catches up!” 

You looked at Lady Ruth, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was as if she wasn’t present there at the moment. You stood there like you had just yelled at your mother and couldn’t decide whether you should apologise or not.

You felt a light jab at your side and you looked at Hoseok who was signalling you to apologise, which made you realise that you had strangely forgotten about his existence for the past few minutes. 

It’s like someone put several ice cubes on your hot head and the fizzing sensation urged you to apologise for your unnecessary rudeness to the lady who was everything but helping you. 

You turned to look at Lady Ruth whose expression gave the impression that she was back to this room. 

“I- I am sorry, your grace… I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just that the mechanic really got on my nerves and I involuntarily took out my frustration on you. I apologise for being an impudent brat.” 

You waited for her to reply and a few seconds passed when suddenly an intensely bright lightning struck the ground outside followed by a deafening sound which made you jump out of your skin and you felt goosebumps all over. 

Heavy rainfall soon followed, accompanied with mad gusts of wind and roaring thunder. Duri, with quick steps, closed all the windows and disappeared down the right hallway to probably close the rest of the windows. Seeing him, you ran to Jeongguk’s room to close the window. 

Rain was wetting the curtains and there was already a pool forming on the floor. You scurried over to close the window sills. There were a number of things you should consider when walking on a wet floor and the first one was to never hurry, which you did, and the next thing you knew was that you slipped and hit something real hard — the pain at the back of your head was the last thing you felt before blacking out. 

Your consciousness started coming back to you slowly, like a weekend morning after a good night’s sleep. You pulled the blanket closer to you as you let yourself stay like that in the comfort of the bed. In the back of your head, you felt like you were forgetting something. Then it dawned upon you like a weekday morning after a late night’s sleep. You sat up abruptly and stayed like that for a couple minutes to let your brain return to normal from the sudden dizziness. 

You slowly got out of the bed and noticed that you were wearing an off-white lace full-sleeved midi nightgown. The back of your head hurt and you had a bandage wrapped around your head. Instinctively, you touched your head while looking around the beige and sage green themed bedroom — it was well-lit with candles and it didn’t have any windows so you couldn’t tell what hour of the day it was. The shock made you run into the bathroom attached to the room. In the mirror you saw yourself and thought no wonder your head felt so light — there was not a single strand of hair on your head. 

What the fuck! How could they?

You left the room to find Hoseok to get an explanation behind your shaved head, and you noticed that you had been in the room next to Jeongguk’s. The hallway was lit with fire torches, and through the window at the end of the hallway you could see that it was already night and the rain was still falling, although its vigour had lessened a lot from before.

You slowly walked into Jeongguk’s room. The floor was dry and in the light of the candles Jeongguk’s pale body looked livelier than he looked that afternoon. His breaths seemed more stable now. 

You sat near him and softly brushed his hair with your fingers and whispered, “Please wake up soon. I can’t do this without you.” 

You walked through the torch-lighted hallway to find Hoseok. You passed the living room and entered the right hallway. The very first room had its door open and it seemed like a study. You saw Lady Ruth in a dark green silk maxi nightgown half-lying on a dark brown wool sofa reading a thick book. 

You thought that it would be better to ask her about Hoseok’s whereabouts than wandering these colossal halls yourself. You knocked on the door to get her attention and she immediately looked at you and sat up, “Sowon, you are up! Please come in!” 

You entered the room and sat on one of the two single-seater sofas. 

The room was brown themed and smelt of old books and wood. Three of its walls, including the one that had the entrance, had ceiling-touching wooden shelves full of books. The fourth wall opposite to the entrance, was filled with framed photographs, a fireplace and an olive coloured small door at the far left that was smaller than any door you had seen so far in the house. It was almost head-to-head with Lady Ruth. 

“Why did you come all the way here by yourself? You should be taking a rest now. Hoseok would be upset if he sees you out of your bed.” She said with concern. 

“I was looking for him actually…” You murmured, unable to talk in your normal volume. 

“He went to his room a while back and said he will be down for dinner. Duri is still not done yet, it seems. Are you hungry? Can you wait a bit more?” 

“Yes.. I don’t mind..” You murmured again. 

You couldn’t figure out the strange nervousness that you felt and you noticed that you were fidgeting your fingers and your legs were shaking and the air sat heavy on your upper body as sweat droplets formed on your forehead. 

“I must say you don’t look all that bad with all your hair gone. When Hoseok suggested shaving your whole head to stitch the wound, saying that you would hate having a bald spot on your head I couldn’t really agree. After all, a lady's beauty is in her hair!” 

You were not really paying attention to what she was saying so you just smiled awkwardly and wiped the sweat on your forehead with a shaky hand. You couldn’t form an answer as you were completely taken over by the weirdness you felt in your body, and you felt strangely attracted towards the wall that had the small door. 

You stood up abruptly and asked, “Can I look at the photos on the wall?” 

“Sure. Go ahead!” 

Getting the permission you swiftly went over to the wall and slowly started going through the pictures. The pictures ranged from old sepia to black and white to evolving coloured ones to aesthetically edited high definition ones — it was as if you were going through the history of photography. The photos were taken in various parts of this very property and most of the pictures were of Lady Ruth, many were of her with a middle aged man that she introduced to you as her late husband, and a few had Duri with her in it. In one such photo your eyes stopped — it was comparatively small, almost the size of your face and it was the only photo with only Duri in it. In it he was looking at a mirror hung up on a wall — he looked much younger, probably in his 30s, and he was looking at his reflection with a smile as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing but he was happy nonetheless. The photo was taken from his back and a similar searing brand was clearly visible on his neck that you saw this afternoon on Seokga’s neck. The photograph was old - perhaps the oldest one here - so you had no way of determining the freshness of the wound. 

With a shaky breath you asked, “Wh- What’s behind this door?”

 Lady Ruth stared at the door for a moment and mumbled, “My lifeline.” Then she looked back at your puzzled face and said, “Let me give you a tour!” 

The door didn’t have a lock nor did it have a handle. Lady Ruth pushed it and it slid open swiftly. Upon crossing the threshold you came upon a scenery which made you feel more speechless than when you visited the Guggenheim museum for the first time. 

The wooden shelf that started from the immediate left wall of the door touched the ceiling and when you looked up, its height went on for at least twice the height of the ground floor ceiling. 

“Come.” Lady Ruth held your hand and you followed her spellbound. 

The shelf ran along the walls and continued in a circle till it couldn’t bend anymore. It was like a mosquito coil but quadrilateral. There were candle lanterns placed at regular intervals so it wasn’t that difficult to see things. The shelf was filled with two different shapes of glass boxes — rectangular and square — and they were innumerable. Each glass box — approximately two feet in length — was separated from the other by a thin wooden ply. 

“Wh-What are these?” You asked. 

“My collection of miniature places. I make these location miniatures from scratch and Duri brings the glass boxes from outside and I store them in here. I only create two places though. One is the Devil’s Crest and another one is the entire property of this manor.” 

“How many exactly are there? They seem countless!” You couldn’t help but express your bewilderment. 

“Not quite. There are exactly twenty-seven thousand six hundred and sixty-six worlds!” 

“Wow… I am stupefied to say the least!” You exclaimed, feeling your shoulders getting burdened by each step towards the interior. 

“I would say that I am proud of myself too. They really help me live.” She smiled and looked at her collection.

When you reached the centre of the room, the shelf ended and there was an ivory table on which an approximately 15 cm tall snowglobe was kept, and it was covered by a tall glass box which reminded you of the rose covered in glass in The Beauty And The Beast. 

It was the most breathtaking snowglobe that you had ever seen in your entire life. You went closer to it to take a good look and it made you gasp. Inside the place seemed way too familiar — it was the shortcut road that started from the junction, leaving the actual junction area out of it and ended right before reaching the Moore Estate. The woods surrounding it were in it as well, and what seemed like very tiny versions of a gas station, the Devil’s Crest turning and the entire property of the Balam Manor. What surprised you the most was that it was drizzling inside it just like it was outside. 

Lady Ruth could probably tell what you were thinking by your shocked expression so she said, “I know it seems like an unusual piece but it’s nothing really surprising. The snow globe has a mechanism that lets me set its weather inside and I like it when it matches.” 

“Can I touch it?” You asked while pointing at it.

Lady Ruth almost jumped at you and grabbed your hand and nervously laughed, “I would rather prefer if you don’t. You see, it was gifted to me by an extremely important someone and it’s very precious to me. It’s what inspired my hobby, ha ha. I don’t let anyone touch it. But you can look at the ones I made! Please.”

Her eyes were pleading you to move away from it. You didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so you glanced at it one last time and moved away to look at the ones on the shelf. 

The shelf had no space left for a new one so you said, “Seems like you have to make space for your future miniatures.”

“Not really. There are always some that end up as no joy for me and when they are discarded new ones fill that space!” 

“Oh…” You replied, pretending to understand fully what she said and went back to observing. 

The miniature boxes had tiny silver tags at top right corners of each of them and had numbers written on them which seemed like dates followed by letters with no space in between them. 

On the bottom shelf there was a miniature of the Devil Crest inside a rectangular glass box whose dimensions were 2ft×1ft×1ft. For some reason you felt attracted towards it, so you squatted down and looked at it intently. 

“Here.” Lady Ruth took out a lantern from its holder and handed it to you. 

“Thank you.” You replied showing a small smile and went back to observing.

The silver plate on its top left corner read: 21421002306JJ. 

It was a bluish dark kind of atmosphere inside as if it would dawn there soon. There was a straight road that ran lengthwise from one end to the other and its entirety was surrounded by woods on both sides that became denser the further it went from the road. 

On the right end of the road, placed at least two inches above its base, on the glass case was a neon exit sign. 

Right before reaching it the road took a turn and formed a circle of red colour. Something felt off about it so you leaned in closer to take a better look. Then you saw the pitch coloured road that was there from the starting but as it neared the circle it bent left slightly as if making room for the red road and ghostly moved forward towards the exit sign. 

The position of the roads were so close that if the roads were the same colour, one might think that the red road was the straight continuation and the pitch road was just another lane, or that the road just got wider. 

Then you noticed another weird thing — there was a car on the red road that stood facing the exit sign and it looked exactly like Jeongguk’s car. 

“Th- That’s Jeongguk’s car!” You blurted out and looked at Lady Ruth. 

“Hm? Oh yes!” Lady Ruth bent forward to look at the miniature and then looking at you she smiled, “Your boyfriend’s car gave me the idea. I think adding this detail puts more life into it! Don’t you think so?”

You nodded reluctantly. It’s making me sick, if anything. 

If you were in a bustling place then you would have thought you were hearing things, but the room was so quiet it could hardly be passed as a mistake; you clearly heard it - Jeongguk calling you. 

It was very faint but you were sure it was Jeongguk’s voice calling out, “Sowon!” 

Multiple times.

You stood up abruptly and exclaimed, “Did you hear that? Jeongguk’s calling me! He must be up! I must go at once!” 

You kept the lantern on the floor and ran out of the room.  

•••

Jeongguk wasn’t feeling himself. He felt detached from his body. His exhausted body was working under the directions of an adamant mind. A mind that felt itself going crazy and couldn’t register the tired body that was carrying it.  

How long had he been walking on this godforsaken road, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to reach an ending. The unchanging environment surrounding him clutched his throat but wanted him to go on still. 

He couldn’t remember how many times he had already passed his car. 

He didn’t know how many times he had broken down in the middle of the road.

He finally stopped to take a sip of water that he was rationing in case he had to stay longer. He sat on the back seat and drank one sip and lied down. 

His brain was starting to finally acknowledge the worn out aching body. And along with it a sense of hopelessness, that he was avoiding. 

Drops of tears glided down from the side of his eyes — some entered his ears and some detoured into his black hair. 

Just then, something unexpected happened - he heard your voice. 

It was as if you were talking to somebody not too far from him. And when you spoke his name, he heard it loud and clear. 

He sprang up and ran outside and called out your name, with all the strength in his body, “Sowon!” Multiple times. 

Jeongguk heard his name one more time and then everything went silent, again. 

“No no no no no. She can’t be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Jeongguk mumbled to himself, clutching his hair. 

“I must find her at once.” He knew full well that you weren’t on the road. The only option was the woods that he was avoiding until now. 

Without any hesitation, he ran into the woods. The hovering fog followed him. 

•••

As abruptly as you had left you came to an abrupt halt at the door of Jeongguk’s room. His taut body seemed loose as he was sitting on the bed, trying hard to do the same. You ran the short distance and hugged him. 

“Oh god! Thank you so much! You are up! How are you feeling, Gguk? Is there any pain?” You asked. 

He just smiled tiredly. 

“Let me call Hobi.” You tried to get up but Jeongguk held you in his hug. 

He softly sighed into the crook of your neck, “Let’s stay like this for a bit. I thought I won't be able to see you anymore.”

A slow discomfort crept up from your gut and spread its supple branches to the places Jeongguk’s body touched yours. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Your hardened stress was supposed to melt away from his touch instead of tightening like cooling stones. 

Despite the fire blazing at its full capacity in the fireplace, Jeongguk’s body was unusually cold to the touch. You couldn't figure out the reason for your discomfort, so you pulled yourself out from his grip and rubbed your hands up and down his cold arms over the thin fabric. 

“Oh my god! You are freezing! I have brought some warm clothes with me. Let me bring them to you.” You walked over to your haversack that had been abandoned by the couch since morning. You took out a white knit sweater that you had once borrowed from him. 

“What happened to your hair?” He asked in a raspy voice. 

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. A lot has happened since you got lost…” You sighed and started putting the sweater on him. 

“Really? Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it?” He said and you noticed his raspy voice getting raspier. 

Knowing your boyfriend, you thought it was weird for a worrywart like him to not ask you about how you were feeling yet, especially now that you were pregnant. Brushing it off as his sickness side effect, you quickly went to his backside to roll down the sweater on him properly that got tucked upwards, and while doing so, your eyes flickered momentarily on his neck. 

Your hands froze in their place. You felt like all your red warm blood had turned into white cold icy water seeing the same sizzling brand mark on his neck. Only one thought made itself loud and clear in your consciousness — you had to get away from the man sitting on the bed in front of you pretending to be your beloved. 

With trembling hands and shaking pupils you touched the silver water jug kept on a bedside stand near his head and tried to sound completely normal but failed to control the stutters completely, “Oh- oh my! G-Gguk, you must be thirsty! Huh? Oh n-no! There’s no water in it! Let me go and bring some water for you!” 

You hoped that whoever it was in the room didn’t notice the cold sweat on your forehead nor that you were trying to run away from it and hurried out of the room with the full jug in your hand. 

Outside, the torch-lit hallway in your eyes appeared to continue forever and so gargantuan that the darkness at the end of it felt like you were looking down in an endless well and you could fall down in it if you looked any further.  

Your legs felt weak and inside your head you felt a buzzing that made you nauseous. You dragged your body into the next room in which you were resting in the evening and locked the door after you. 

Slowly you climbed the bed to find some comfort. You wrapped yourself in the blanket and sat there staring blankly at nothing. 

Steadily enough your thoughts began to gain a coherent form and the buzzing started to die down. But even after that, you couldn’t make sense of what was happening around you. 

Why do Duri, the mechanic and that person have the same brand? Why did I feel so sick in that room? Why do I feel so trapped? If that isn’t Jeongguk then where is he? Why did Lady Ruth have Jeongguk’s car inside her miniature? 21421002306JJ… 2142/10/02… October 2nd - the day Jeongguk went missing… His last call was at 3:03am. Could 306 be the time when these people found him? Wait… JJ? Jeon Jeongguk? 

You felt your nerves shudder as your thoughts spiralled. I have to get out of here and find the real Jeongguk.

You slowly got out of the room and tiptoed along the hallway even though you were barefoot. There was luckily no one around when you slipped into the study. You couldn’t risk getting out of the main door and getting caught — you remembered the way the metal door made a loud creaking noise when Duri opened it this afternoon when you went to visit your father’s grave. 

At this point, you were beginning to doubt whether it was even your father’s grave. There’s something really fishy going on here. 

In the vast array of books, you weren’t sure if the blueprint of this house would even be kept, and even if it was, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Moreover, you had to look for it before someone walked in or looked for you. You frantically started scanning the bookshelves, you opened the cabinets underneath and looked in them while trying to avoid making the least sound but to no avail. It was indeed a needle inside a huge pile of hay. 

Tired, you decided to stop and think carefully. It helped, for your eyes landed on something anomalous - all the shelves had uniform partitions except one in the right wall whose one partition ran wider than others. You knocked on it lightly and figured out that the inside was hollow. You hurriedly checked and noticed that it had no opening from the front. You started to take out the books slowly from the shelf at your eye level that was at the right side of the partition - there was nothing. 

You kept the books in their place and instead of moving upwards or downwards, you decided to go to the left side of the partition and check. 

Yes! You found it! 

There was a thin rectangular line that said that it could be moved. You slowly pushed it and it slid open. Inside it was dark but not wanting to waste anymore time to bring a light source, you shoved your hand inside — not your best decision because you were instantly greeted with an unpleasant handshake of sticky cobwebs, and you definitely felt a few small things crawl by your hand. 

You shut your eyes and mouth tightly and began to fumble your hand around until it touched something that felt like a thin book. 

Bringing it out you cleaned the thick layer of dirt and crumpled cobwebs, that made itself a part of it, with your nightgown. 

You opened it and realised that it was not a book but a parchment paper that was so big that upon folding the way it was, it gave the impression of a book. 

When you fully unfolded the paper, you realised that you had found just the thing you needed. The blueprint which was a detailed drawing of all the floor plans and designs of the manor on its aging parchment paper could hardly be called a blueprint since it was nothing that you were used to seeing, but you decided to refer to it as the ‘blueprint’ anyways. It took up a large area of the floor and there was a browned photograph kept in the middle which in the spur of the moment you kept aside to look at the drawing instead. 

In the all-familiar ground floor plan, you found something that was unfamiliar to you. There was a built-in secret passage along the back wall of the entire ground floor whose left end led to the kitchen in the basement and a backdoor marked as “the exit” was built in the middle of it. It had two entrances marked —  one on the wall facing the room in which Jeongguk’s doppelganger was and another one was in the wall facing the master bedroom at the end of the right hallway. It was convenient, you thought. You just had to wait for everyone to retire for the night and then you could make your great escape.

At the top middle of it there were several things written which you assumed were its construction period, name of the head architect and the owners, respectively — 

1589-1596

Jaejoong Yi

Jaejoong Yi & Ruth Amelia Livingston Yi

What the fuck… 

You read it again and instinctively reached out for the photograph that you had kept aside earlier. The yellowing photograph showed two people standing in front of the main gate of the Balam Manor and they were smiling - one of them you could recognise from when Lady Ruth introduced to you earlier, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, her husband and the other one, you could recognise all too well because it was none other than Lady Ruth herself. Behind the photograph, there was a congratulatory message written that read, “Wishing all the happiness for your new beginnings. Much love, Rich Moore.” 

Answers began to fold themselves into more questions the more you sought them out. You couldn’t comprehend all the information laid before you. You thought you were in some kind of an elaborate prank video. Why was there a photo of Lady Ruth that’s supposedly taken in 1596 when you could interact with her now in 2142, exactly 546 years later? 

The flickering candle lights painted something ominous on the walls around you and you found it hard to breath. You wanted to get out of there as soon as possible but there was something that you must check before you go — a miniature labeled in your dad’s name. 

There was no handle on the olive coloured door as you had seen before so you tried to push it open but it didn’t budge. You looked for anything that could be indicative of an opening but there was none. 

You considered taking the pictures off the wall to look for some kind of key as they showed in movies but just then you heard footsteps outside. You hurried towards the door which you had mindfully closed after entering. 

You listened to the footsteps carefully and instantly recognised them as Hoseok's. 

You knew your best friend all too well to know that if you made any noise from behind in this darkness or simply call out his name he was gonna freak out and most probably would let out a pterodactyl shriek, hence alarming everyone present in the vicinity. He had a terrible distaste of darkness and the creatures that he thought resided in it. Now, it was making you wonder how he was even managing to live in this manor that nests this creepy darkness in it once the sun goes down.

You waited for his footsteps to fade enough to follow him without scaring him. Once you were sure he was far enough you got out of the room slowly and you saw his silhouette entering Jeongguk’s room, probably to check up on him. You increased your speed in order to stop him before he started to fuss over your disappearance. 

Once you were in front of the door your speed reduced to a halt and you hesitated to enter as the two people inside — one with his hair wrapped in towel ready for a hair commercial checking the pulse of the other one with a weak posture and uninviting aura — turned and stared at your paused body with an expression that asked ‘why aren’t you entering?’ 

A staring competition ensued which lasted less than a minute and whose ending was marked by Hoseok’s question, “What are you thinking so hard about standing there?” 

Startled, you entered the room as if you had to after his question and while walking towards Hoseok you asked him nervously, “How is he doing?” 

“Better than I expected. Why didn’t you call me as soon as he woke up?” He asked while sitting down on the chair that you had dragged a lot earlier nearer to the bed to sit. 

You stood right by your friend and answered, “I was going to but his voice was raspy so I went to bring some water.” 

Hoseok looked at your hands and commented, “But I don’t see any water.” 

“Ah…” Your voice trailed off as you brought your two hands forward and looked at them unbelievingly. Fuck! I was too careless.

“I… couldn’t find water in the dining room. Come help me find it.” You grabbed Hoseok’s hand and pulled him trying to get him up. 

And when he finally got up you practically dragged him out of the room with the force of pulling a loaded cart uphill. 

You stopped only when you reached the dining room. You looked behind you, and once you confirmed it’s only you two there you whispered, steering it loud enough to be considered as a serious matter, “Hoba, that’s not Jeongguk!” 

“What?” On his face you could clearly see his disbelief in the fact that you just told him what you did. 

“I am serious.” 

“Aha! I know you are trying to pull a prank on me!” He cheerfully ended his investigation behind your weird claims. 

“I am not. Hoba, please you have to believe me now.” You begged to be taken seriously. 

He stared at you for a few moments as if looking for sincerity in your words and once he found it he asked, “Why do you feel like that? I didn’t sense anything off though.” 

“I… I could just sense it. He makes me uncomfortable. My Jeongguk would never make me feel that way.” You said. 

Hoseok pretended to vomit and said, “Okay. Stop. I get it.” 

You slapped his arm and retorted, “You should see yourself when you talk about Ji-a!” 

He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. My bad. But seriously it must be just your injured head talking! Who else it would be other than Jeongguk in the flesh! You have seen him. I have seen him. He is exactly like we know him.” 

He was right. There was no visible evidence of him not being Jeongguk - except for the brand mark on his neck! 

“Wait! Hoba, there’s…” You got interrupted in the middle by Duri, who entered the room and with his signature bow, he said, “Your graces, dinner is ready to be served.” 

He then proceeded to pull two chairs one by one and waited until both of you sat down. Once he went out to bring the food you told Hoseok, still using the same hushed tone, “I have something important to tell you. Let’s talk after dinner in your room.” 

“Alright, ma’am. I also have something to ask you. By the way, aren’t you going to feed Jeongguk? You used to do that whenever he got sick.” Hoseok’s voice was back to normal volume. 

“Ah, right…” Your voice drooped. He is not Jeongguk though.

When Duri came back with the dishes Hoseok asked him, “Duri, have you prepared the soup that I asked you for Jeongguk?” 

“Yes, milord. Earlier I came here after delivering the soup to him. But…” He paused and after a quick glance at you he looked back at Hoseok, “He said that he’ll wait for milady to finish her dinner.” 

Ever since you hugged him, your mind was constantly telling you that he wasn’t Jeongguk and you should stop caring and stay as far as possible from him, but Duri’s last sentence put an uneasiness inside you like coarse sand between your toes, and your fingers hesitated to grab the chopsticks. 

Unable to clean away the sand, you stood up and said, “Duri, can you please put away my food for now? I will have them after feeding Jeongguk.” 

“Wait wait wait!” Hoseok stood up as well. “Have your dinner first. You have to take medicine. And Jeongguk will have to take meds too after dinner which I haven’t brought from my room. Let’s just finish our dinner quickly then you can feed him with all the love you want to give him, hm?” 

Duri probably noticed your hesitation so he said, “Milady, I have put his soup back in the kitchen and his grace said that he wasn’t feeling like eating yet, so you can enjoy your dinner peacefully.” 

You let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. You didn’t have any appetite but any excuse seemed better than seeing the man in that room right now. 

At this point, relief seemed to be a far-fetched dream as one fear after another caught up to you. Putting the first nibble inside your mouth, you asked Duri, “Duri, won’t Lady Ruth be joining us for dinner tonight?”  

After the discoveries of this evening you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your inner dread from her. 

“Her grace has retired for the evening. She told me to relay the message that she regrets not being able to be your host for dinner tonight as she has some urgent business to attend to. She hopes for your understanding.” Duri answered. 

“Ah! That’s completely fine! Please tell Lady Ruth to not worry about it all. Ha ha!” You didn’t expect to be spared the dread but you were thankful nonetheless. 

You finished all that you were served quite quickly and after taking the meds, you requested Hoseok, “Hoba, please sit with me while I feed him. I really don’t want to be alone right now. And when I am done feeding him, tell him that you have something urgent to discuss with me, okay?” 

You sat on the chair by the man’s bed and Hoseok sat on the couch. Duri brought in the soup and a small table that could be kept on the bed for convenience. 

You had only fed him two spoons when the man asked, “Babe, are you okay? Your hands are shaking!” 

“Oh?” You didn’t notice how much your hands were trembling as you were solely focused on feeding him so that you could leave the room as soon as possible.  

“Ah… It’s nothing. I am probably cold, wearing this thin nightgown and all. The fire isn’t helping that much I guess. Don’t worry. I have brought warm clothes for myself too. Once you finish eating I will wear it.” You smiled nervously and held another spoonful of soup in front of his mouth. 

Slowly — probably too slow for you — he finished the bowl and Duri came and took away both the bowl and the table as if he was just waiting for it outside. 

You wiped your hand with the wet washcloth that Duri had brought and he brought another one which you used to wipe Jeongguk’s mouth. 

After you were done, you put on the sweater that you had brought for yourself. You made the man lie on the bed and pulled the blanket over him, quite reluctantly so. 

Despite there being three people in the room, all of whom happen to be best of friends, an awkward silence roamed inside its walls, and the only sound that could be heard loud enough as if it was happening inside one’s body, was the crackling of fire in the fireplace.

You looked at Hoseok and squinted your eyes which signalled both annoyance and a reminder to do his part. Hoseok, who had apparently zoned out, came back to his senses and abruptly started talking like a wannabe actor giving an audition, “Wonwon, I have something to talk to you about. Come with me. Jeongguk, please don’t fall asleep. I’ll bring your meds right away.” 

You were in no position to criticise your best friend’s acting skills as you replied in the same amateur manner, “Oh, okay, Hoba. Let’s go. I’ll be right back, b-babe.” 

Once you were in Hoseok’s room on the first floor, you could take the breath long needed. You released your body on his soft king-sized bed with a thump. 

You looked around the maroon and gold themed room while lying down and said, “This room is huge! Probably twice the size of the room Jeongguk is in. Maybe even more! Ji-a is going to go absolute nuts over this space!” 

Hoseok smiled while going over to a big glass shelf blocking one of the windows completely. That modernish furniture was certainly a misfit in this room preserving its classic medieval aesthetic. 

Seeing that hopeful and shy smile on his face you couldn’t help but mumble, “But probably you won’t be able to live here after all.” 

“Hm? What was that?” Hoseok asked. And you replied with the typical, “Nothing.” 

“By the way, where are the workers for the renovation? I haven't seen anyone or heard anything since this morning.” You asked. 

“I gave them a few days off. Seeing Jeongguk’s condition, some silence would do him good.” Hoseok explained, to which you just replied with a ‘hmm.’

The illusion that was relief came to an end as almost instantaneously you felt the nauseousness appear like a wave inside you just like this afternoon. Asking for the direction of his bathroom, you ran and vomited all that you had eaten for dinner in his sink. It was a gruesome sight. 

“Wonwon? You okay in there?” You heard Hoseok asking from outside the door of the bathroom. 

“Yea- Yeah I am fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” You replied, and letting a heavy and slow sigh escape from your lungs, you started cleaning the sink.

After returning the sink to its previous state, you washed your face. Your head hung low as you stood there to take a breather and let the water droplets fall without wetting your dress. Your whole head and throat felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to drink a shit ton of water. 

You couldn’t understand why you were throwing up so much. If your pregnancy was the reason then you were fine yesterday even after barely eating anything and travelling the whole day. Then why was this happening today when you had full meals and ample rest? 

Wiping the water from your face with your hand you looked up and saw yourself in the mirror that was fitted right above the sink which you had completely blindsided until now. 

The reflection in the mirror looked more miserable than the reflection that you saw a couple or so hours ago. Your eyes were red and watery and you could see the stress taking form on your face clearly. 

I have to get out of here.

You got out of the bathroom and saw your best friend standing there with worry cemented on his face. You gave him a faint smile and tried to reassure him, “I am fine! It’s just pregnancy sickness. Nothing more. I’ll be fine after a good rest. But first take off that towel! You’ll ruin your already balding hair!” 

“I am not the bald one though.” Hoseok sing-songed the mockery with a smirk on his face and slightly grazed his hands over your bald head. 

“Why you!” You chased after already running away Hoseok who stopped near his bed and nearly started wheezing and falling down because he was laughing so hard. 

When you reached him he started saying, “Time-out, time-out,” with panicky hand gestures and squeaky voice - his face red as a tomato. 

You stopped and sat on the bed - laughing hard yourself that brought tears to your eyes. 

After both of you had calmed down, you instructed Hoseok to sit on the carpet near your feet, “Come, sit here. I’ll wipe your hair dry. Why did you even wash your hair at this dead hour of the night?”

“Ah! I went out to talk to the mechanic. He said that he’d leave for the city once the rain lets up and bring a tow. And on my way back I got poured on so I had to wash my hair.” He explained. 

“And let me guess, you forgot that you can’t use a hair dryer here and you kept the towel on and forgot about it too.” You unwrapped the towel and let his long brunette hair that went well past his shoulder blades fall freely on his back. It still kept droplets trapped between its locks, so you began to make small partings in his hair and wipe them thoroughly. 

You didn’t have to see it to know that your best friend was smiling sheepishly knowing full well that you had stepped on his deeds with right footing. 

You held his hair up to wipe the wetness off his upper neck. 

At the police academy they taught you how to not to trust even the most innocent looking person while investigating a crime. But they didn’t teach how to apply the same doubtful glance on your loved ones. 

Your hand paused and so did your whole body. The same brand mark was on his neck. You felt deceived. Helpless. And suddenly, alone. 

You gulped hard in an attempt to swallow the fear. 

Play it cool. Play it cool.

“Y- you were telling me you had something important to say.” You asked.

“Ah! Yes. I was putting your clothes to dry on the clothes rack and I found a note in your pocket with some kind of a riddle on it. What is it?” He asked.

Shit! You had totally forgotten about the fortune card! 

You felt your vision blur for a moment. And as abruptly it blurred, it became clear too. 

“Oh, that? I bought a fortune cookie on my way here and it was inside that cookie. Honestly, I was pretty disappointed to see a weird note instead of a real fortune.” You huffed in disappointment. 

“Just that? I thought you were on some treasure hunting shenanigan this time without telling me!” He pouted. 

“As if!” You scoffed — the little playful push dissipated halfway before reaching his back. 

“By the way, you said you have something important to tell me. What is it?” He asked after closing his eyes as you started back again to wipe his hair but this time more gently. 

Noticing how you weren’t answering, he quipped, “Come on! Stop zoning out.” 

“Huh? Ah yeah… Well, the thing is, Hoba, I discovered some really disturbing things today and I think you shouldn’t live here anymore. In fact, you should run away with me as I am planning to do so tonight.” Your hands stopped once again and your voice gained a serious tone. 

If you want to play this game, let’s play this game.

“What?” He exclaimed loudly and turned around to face you, which made it apparent how shocked he was. 

“Hoba… You have to listen to me very carefully.” You got down from the bed and sat in front of him on the carpet. 

“Do you remember that I told you that I went to get water for Jeongguk this evening but couldn’t find any?” 

He nodded.

“Actually, I didn’t go to bring water. I was in Lady Ruth’s study.” He gave you a ‘are you mad?’ look. And you instantaneously began to justify your action. 

“I know. I know this sounds like I was trespassing, which technically I was, but hear me out! There I found this manor’s map along with a photograph of Lady Ruth and her husband. And the strange part is that their photo and the day they entered this mansion was dated in the year 1596!” 

“You sure you saw it right?” He asked doubtfully. 

“Are you seriously questioning a detective if she saw it right? The audacity.” You faked taking offense. 

“You forgot to mention ‘private’.” He chirped back. 

“That doesn’t make me any less of a detective. I would say I would be better if anything. So stop turning the conversation into the wrong lane!” 

“Okay. Okay! I am sorry.” He laughed. “But seriously though, it could be Lady Ruth’s ancestor with the same name and face! Things like that happen sometimes.” 

“That’d be a far stretch if we consider a few things - firstly why isn’t there any other of her ancestors’ pictures in the manor? Secondly, why do both of their husbands, as Lady Ruth has introduced to me, look the same and have the same name? And thirdly, she herself told me that her husband used to call her ‘Balam’ and this manor is named after her, which she had made obvious a few times. What other proof do you need? Hoba, I am telling you there’s something really wrong with the people here! And both you and I have to get out of here. Tonight!” You took a long breath after your long explanation to convince him. 

“But Wonwon… all the things that you are saying are just theoretical. We don’t have solid proof! I have been living here for months now! And trust me, I haven’t seen anything out of place!” He looked at you as if you were trying to forcefully prove something that wasn’t even there. 

“Hoba…” Your voice mellowed down and strangely, even though he wasn’t your best friend, you felt disheartened. “This isn’t like you at all… What changed in the last months that you are trying to imply that I am in the wrong? You used to be my number one supporter!” 

“Wonwon…” He held your hand in an attempt to put balm on the bleeding wound in your heart. 

You softly tugged your hand out of his cold ones and sniffled hard to stop your tears from coming out, “Fine! You want proof? I’ll give you proof! You remember what I told you about Jeongguk, right? In her collection room, I saw a miniature that was dated the day Jeongguk went missing and it even has its initials and Jeongguk’s car in it! I may be going crazy, like you think, but I know too damn well that it takes more than a day to create something as detailed as that. Come with me to the collection room. And look for one with the code starting with 21311017 and ending with PY. That’d be my dad.” 

“Wha- Alright, let’s go!” He stood up and extended his hand to help you up but you ignored his waiting hand and stood up yourself. 

“Where did you keep my clothes?” You asked. 

“It’s in the bathroom of the room you were sleeping in. And your phone is in the drawer of the bedside table. You go first. I’ll see you in front of the study in ten minutes.” He replied solemnly and sighed a quick sigh. 

You didn’t say anything back. On your way back, the steps of the stairs were darker than when you ascended it with him. Your steps felt heavy and the stairs and the hallway seemed to go on forever.

Finally entering your room, you went straight to the bathroom. The bathroom was almost the size of a big bedroom in any high class apartment in the city, and you found another smaller room within it where there was a small fireplace and several clothes racks. 

You took your clothes and searched your pockets and let out a relieved sigh after finding the note in one of your pockets. 

You changed into your previous outfit and sat on your bed to read the note again.

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN

This time you could understand that it wasn’t a riddle rather a clear-cut instruction on what you have to do. 

Who is that old lady? And why is she helping me like this?

No matter what, you decided to follow the path that you saw as your only way to escape and your single shot at rescuing Jeongguk. 

You took out your phone from the drawer — it still had 15% battery but no reception yet — and kept it in the inside pocket of your jacket.

You inhaled and exhaled deeply and went to the man’s room. 

He was lying down in the exact position you had left him. His eyes were closed and he was taking slow and steady breaths. 

Your plan was to quietly take your haversack and get out of there. Before taking your haversack, you hesitated for a moment and contemplated whether you should take the sweater off of him since it was one of Jeongguk’s favourite ones and it made you sad seeing it on somebody else. 

Get it together, Sowon. It’s not the time to be materialistic.

You gave yourself soundless slaps on your cheeks and picked up the haversack.

You looked at the person lying on the bed one last time before turning to leave, but your eyes made contact with each other. His emotionless eyes were looking at you directly and that startled you. 

“O-oh Jeongguk! Did I wake you? I was just leaving! Rest up.” You laughed nervously. 

“Where are you going, babe?” He asked; his voice was groggy - the voice that had made your insides feel like jelly on many mornings. 

But tonight it made you sick. 

“I am just going to give Hoseok a few things that I brought with me. Why don’t you go back to sleep? It may take long.” Come on! Say ‘okay’.

“It’s fine. I’ll be waiting. I want to sleep with you by my side tonight.” He smiled. 

“But Jeongguk… You are sick!” You make me sick! 

“It’s not like we’ll be doing something strenuous! Plus the bed is so big… I’d feel lonely by myself. With you here, why should I sleep alone?” He smirked. And you thought if he was real Jeongguk you would be in his arms already.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” You gave him a stiff smile and got out of the room. 

The man pretending to be Hoseok was waiting for you outside of the study. When he noticed you with your haversack, he asked in bewilderment, “Are you already making a run for it?” 

“Hush! Not yet. But who knows when I have to. You should have been prepared beforehand as well.” You whispered and entered the study. 

The candles inside were halfway through their lives and the room was slightly darker than before. 

“I couldn’t open that door earlier. Can you?” You whispered pointing to the ominous olive coloured small door on the photo-cluttered wall. 

“I’ll give it a try.” He said and went straight to the door. 

With his slight pull the door slid open leaving your jaw to hit the floor. 

“Wow, Jung Hoseok! You are the mvp!” You praised him and gave him a light pat on his shoulder. 

He held your arm and turned you around to face him before you could cross the threshold, “Listen, if I don’t find what you told me then you are going straight to bed. I am not going to go along with your fantasies any longer. Understood?”

His sudden declaration of terms and conditions startled you but you just nodded. 

“Good! Also we must hurry! Duri will be here to change the candles before they run out completely! So you better hurry!” He whispered in an urgent tone and closed the door behind him after both of you got in. 

It was your second time seeing the colossal structure but it didn’t fail to make you feel insignificant and amazed yet again. This time though the added dimness poured black ashes inside your stomach and you felt nervous. 

You brought out the flashlight and walked ahead, “Hoba, I am gonna walk ahead and take a look at the miniature I saw earlier once more. You look for the one I told you.”

But the next second you paused and said, “Wait! On second thought, I am going to look for my dad’s miniature. I’ll make a sound once I find it. You stand guard here. Make a sound if someone comes.” 

“Wait! Wonwon, what are you planning to do if what you said turns out to be true?” He asked. Even in the dim candle light you could see his expression — he was concerned and was feeling lost. 

Nice acting.

You kept your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him perhaps, or maybe yourself, “We’ll figure something out… as we always have.” You tried to smile. 

You didn’t wait to see or hear his reaction and soon you were out of his sight, in the maze of shelves, towards the center. 

Once you reached the heart of the room, you exhaled long and took a few quick breaths as if preparing yourself for the next step. You indeed came to look at the miniature Jeongguk was supposed to be ‘in’. But that was only a part of a bigger plan. You glanced at the snowglobe inside the glass cover. The rain had stopped inside the snowglobe and it was basking in the shining full moon light. 

You quickly put your haversack on the floor and opened its mouth. You held the glass cover carefully and started lifting it. It was heavier and thicker than it looked. You had to be careful not to drop it. Keeping it on the table right beside the snow globe you quickly smuggled the snow globe inside your haversack. You slid the glass cover to the middle, since it was closer to the edge of the round table, in fear of knocking it over and making a noise loud enough to bring the whole mansion, i.e. just four other people, in this space. 

Putting on the haversack you flashed the light inside the never-changing 21421002306JJ miniature. Gguk, I promise I’ll save you.

You looked at the other miniatures of recent dates and found the one that you didn’t mention to him about — 214204161001JH carved on the silver tag of a miniature of Balam Manor. 

Hoba… 

With hurried steps you went to the outer wings of the structure where you hoped you would find a miniature with your dad’s initials. You felt grateful that everything was managed serially so you just had to scan through the years quickly. 

In the second wing from inside you found dates from the 2100s, and on the third rack from the bottom in one of the shelves — you couldn’t determine on which wall it was — you found what you were dreading until now - what if I can’t find it?

The 21311017333PY silver tag shone brightly as you looked up at it. 

You whistled a particular tone that you had always used as a signal for your best friend since childhood, but it came out rather weak since you were trying to keep the sadness at the border of your throat. 

He was by your side in an instant. He looked at the tag you were pointing at and gasped softly, “Oh my god… You were right. What should we do now?”

“Can… Can you lift me up, Hoba? I wanna take a look inside of it…” You softly whispered and looked at him with teary eyes. 

He didn’t say anything but just knelt down so you could climb on his shoulders. 

You quickly swiped off the tears, and keeping the haversack on the floor, you climbed on his shoulders. 

With wobbly steps he stood up. You chuckled at that and chirped a quick apology to him. 

The atmosphere inside the miniature was just as unmoving as Jeongguk’s. The woods were the same, the road was the same and the exit sign too was the same. There was a car in it as well. The only tiny difference in it was that it was your dad’s car that you had seen him drive off in for the last time. 

“Hoba, I am done.” You whispered a little loudly. 

He slowly lowered his wobbly body down and you got off. You got off and couldn’t get up from the floor. You wanted to ugly cry but all you could do was whimper while swallowing the sounds and bearing the pain inside your chest and throat. 

He sat down beside you and hugged you. You clutched on the sleeve of his sweater anchoring yourself and buried your face in his chest.  

The exhaustion that you were keeping at bay, trying not to let them overwhelm you, came crashing down on you again - taking you violently, drowning you mercilessly. But this time, you felt relief. You had found him. Now all that was left was rescuing him from that still, unnatural world controlled by evil. 

“Wonwon!” He whispered. “I think someone’s here. It’s probably Duri. We have to get out of here!” 

“What? But how? There’s only one way out!” You said sniffling as quietly as you could. 

He thought for a moment and said, “You wait here. I’ll distract Duri and once he is out of the way I will come and get you, alright?” 

You nodded. He gave you a reply-nod and went out. You swiftly and stealthily went behind him and hid by the door. As he closed the door behind him after getting out, you heard Duri’s voice, “Your grace, I believe I have already informed you that this space is off limits in her grace’s absence.” 

You heard his cheerful voice, “I am so sorry, Duri! It totally slipped my mind. It’s just so fascinating. I was going to return now anyways. By the way, before you change the candles here, can you change the ones in my room? I have some work to do! Hm? Pretty please?” 

You pictured Duri sighing and rolling his eyes in defeat, which you were sure wouldn’t be visible on his face. 

“Yes, your grace.” You heard Duri say. 

“I’ll be there in a sec!” He replied. 

A few seconds passed and he opened the door. 

You scrambled on your feet and quickly got out. 

“Listen!” He held you by your shoulders. “Stay in your room for now. I’ll come at midnight and we will make an escape through the living room window.” 

“But Hoba!” You said for no particular reason. 

“Don’t worry. I know Duri’s surveillance pattern. We will make it. Together!” He gave your shoulders a light shake as if to transfer his resolution into you. 

Taking your nod as a yes, he went to the first floor where he had sent Duri earlier. 

•••

You entered the room and saw Jeongguk sitting on his bed. 

“You sure took long. I thought you abandoned me.” Jeongguk said with a blank expression. 

You didn’t have any excuse ready. With a sheepish smile you went towards him. 

Strangely, you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all anymore. Rather you felt a very familiar feeling that you were so used to, that you were so craving for. 

Reaching him, you hugged him - his head on your belly. 

“I am sorry that I was gone for so long. We will be home soon.” You said softly and slowly ran your fingers through his soft curls. 

“No.” 

Jeongguk’s words confused you. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“As long as you have this I can’t go anywhere.” His voice sounded cruel. 

He put his hands on your belly, and your belly started growing, and in the blink of an eye it was the size of that of an eight month pregnant woman. 

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Jeongguk’s hands grew claws and he ripped your belly apart and yanked out a bloody lump of alive flesh. 

•••

You woke up with a startle. You didn’t realise when you had fallen asleep on the bed of your room while waiting to get out. 

You rubbed your face - it was covered in cold sweat. You touched your belly and felt relieved. 

You quickly checked for the time on your phone, desperately hoping it wasn’t midnight already and felt relieved that it was still forty-five minutes away.

You took out your desert eagle and the holster and tied it around your waist in case you had to use it.

Putting your haversack on your back, you slowly poked your head out of the room to check if there was anyone. 

Relieved to see the empty hallway, you got out. With soft steps you reached near the next room’s door and peeked inside. Jeongguk's doppelganger was lying down but you couldn’t figure out whether he was asleep or not. 

With similar soft steps you scurried and crossed his door and reached the end of the hallway. 

According to the blueprint, there was supposed to be a door leading to it, and the only possibility you saw was the 6 foot long and 4 foot wide painting of the waterfall that was fixed on the wall at the very end. 

You slowly started pushing it from one side but it didn’t budge. You tried the other side and got the same result. 

You felt panic slowly starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. You looked at the torchlit yet dark hallway and hoped no one came now. 

You looked up and down the painting, illuminating it with your flashlight. You began to feel its sides with your hands as far as it reached and looked for anything out of the ordinary. But there was none on either side. 

You sat down on the floor and began inspecting the underside of the frame, and there you found a groovy pattern made for four fingers. You put your fingers except the thumb in it and gave it a push upwards. It made a clicking sound and the painting slid upwards opening a cavity its size. 

You clenched your fist and pulled your elbow towards yourself as a victory celebration and stepped into the cavity. 

You entered and turned to your right. The long hallway stretching ahead was lit with smaller fire torches than the ones in the main hallway. The unwavering shadows underneath them had the impression of lurking entities waiting to pounce. You looked behind you and saw a dark and narrow passageway that, according to the blueprint, led to the kitchen outside. 

Logically, it was the shorter path to escape to the outside but there was also a bigger possibility of Duri being there. 

Your escapeway was lying right ahead in the middle of the hallway — a door where the staircase in the main building was. 

You saw a thick rope attached to the bottom of the painting from inside and its end was hung on an iron hook on the wall. You pulled the rope and closed the painting behind you, locking yourself inside the restricted passage. 

Carefully you trod ahead — fast enough to get there quickly, slow enough to not make any noise, your barefoot helped. 

The air in the hallway was dense and heavy with the smell of burning wax. The lights flickered subtly as you moved past each of them shifting the air. The more seconds you passed there, the more difficult it became for you to breathe properly. There was no visible outlet to let the air move freely and the years of trapped air latched onto your nose and lungs and was squeezing out more than you could take from it. 

Not being able to tolerate it anymore, you ran the last bit and took a longer breath once you reached the door. 

The garlic-like odour of phosphorus hit your nose sharply. You looked up and it became clear to you how the neon sign above the door was working when there wasn’t supposed to be any electricity in the manor. 

You should have immediately unlatched the door. You should have immediately walked out instead of staring at the shining bright green neon sign nailed above the door that said - The Exit. 

You should have made your escape before the voice so familiar to you could call you and say, “Wonwon, I told you we’ll make it together. So why are you leaving me behind?” 

Your body stiffened as you stared right at the door refusing to acknowledge the source of the sound. You could hear his footsteps approaching.  

You felt unnerved. Your eyes frantically looked for the latch. Once you found it, you dared to look at the direction of the dim hallway that you had crossed a while ago. You saw your best friend’s figure walking towards you. The monster lurking in the shadows turned out to be the wolf in grandma's skin. 

Keeping your shaking finger on the latch, you yelled knowing full well it’s of no use, your voice hoarse in fear, “Stop right there. I know you are not Jung Hoseok.” 

A sinister smile cut through the figure’s cheeks. 

A hot tear drop trickled down your cheeks as you tried to stand your ground. 

“Here I thought I was putting up a perfect act. But you fooled me. Anyways, I am glad I don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s annoying.” The figure said. 

His voice distorted and you witnessed the most horrifying scene unfold in front of your eyes. 

The slit that had occurred on the figure’s cheeks while smiling widened and you saw your best friend’s skin getting ripped apart - first the face, then the skull, then the full body in half through the middle - slowly, like a flimsy cloth. 

You desperately tried to open the hundreds of years old latch. Duri freed himself from Hoseok’s skin that fell on the ground like a wet rag and dissolved into Duri’s body like slime.

The skin on your palm started burning. 

Duri started running towards you and his body began to disfigure in a gruesome manner — his back hunched, his arms grew longer, crossing his knees, his legs bent like an animal and he grew claws on both hands and feet. His hairless body was grey in colour and there was pure cruelty in his glowing lidless eyes and lipless mouth where only long and sharp teeth were visible. 

Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else except for the impending danger and the latch that needed to be opened. 

The moment you fully unlocked the latch, you found yourself flying. Duri had grabbed your haversack and had flinged you to the opposite wall. 

Your side hit the wall and you fell on your back. You realised you’d have broken a few bones if you had been thrown any harder. Due to the impact, your flashlight broke, leaving shattered glass pieces on the floor. 

A series of coughs escaped your lungs and you sat up only to see that Duri was holding your haversack. 

No no no no no no. 

Panic spread across your body like a wildfire. If Duri got his hands on the snow globe then all of this would be for nothing. You quickly took out your gun and aimed at Duri. 

His face didn’t have the opportunity to show much expression but you could imagine that he was smirking mockingly at you while he said, “Your father didn’t teach you stealing is a bad thing?” 

He took out the snow globe. 

You gritted your teeth and aimed at his head and fired. It hit right above his temple, but to your horror, his skin absorbed the bullet as if you had just shot a viscous substance. 

“You need to do more than that to hurt me.” His distorted voice echoed in the hallway. 

You shot another round which hit his eye. 

You didn’t hope for much and were ready to shoot another round, but it seemed to have an effect on Duri. It took him a second to come near you and the next second you were grabbed by your collar too tightly to even breath. 

He smelt like swamps and rotten vegetables, which made breathing in his vicinity even more difficult for you. 

“Humans.” Duri growled. “You are all so fragile and insignificant, yet you stop at nothing to prove your dominance over things that you can’t control.” 

You coughed and struggled to get out of his clasp. 

Duri’s grip on your collar lightened but he didn’t let go. 

“You know what, your father probably thought of the same thing when he willingly entered the Devil’s Crest to rescue your uncle. Such a prideful little bastard. Leaving his family behind with the confidence that he will be able to get out. Aren’t you the same as him? Prideful, overconfident and rude.” Duri inched closer as his hurt dimmed eye began to regain its glow. 

“Do not dare to speak of my father with your stinky mouth.” You barked. 

At your retort, Duri laughed maniacally and let you go. 

“You have got some nerve. Do you think your nerves will save you from the repercussions of hurting my eye?” 

He took your hand and kept three silver tags on your palm that magically appeared in his big clawed hand. Those three tags belonged to Jeongguk, Hoseok and your father. 

You looked up at Duri and he said, “Choose one of them that you want to save. I’ll spare his life. Choose very carefully. Because the unchosen ones aren’t going to have the most merciful deaths.” He started singing ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ and placed his index finger on each silver tag with each word. 

You closed your eyes and took a sharp breath.

“Are you saying that my father is still alive?” You asked.

“Very much.” He replied. “Now tell me which two tags do you want to return?” 

“What if I don’t?” 

“Then one of them loses the chance to leave.” 

The silver tags in your palms suddenly felt like they weighed a ton. They wanted to drag you down and bury you under the earth. 

How were you supposed to make a choice that you had no right to make? How can you knowingly push someone to their demise? But…  

But how can you deny someone their one chance at escaping this hell?

You longed to see your father. 

Would I be able to see him if he gets to leave? You didn’t know. 

What if I couldn’t escape? What’s gonna happen when he gets home and sees mom in the arms of another man? How will he react when he will know that I haven’t returned home in two days? Will he spend the rest of his life searching for me just like I did for him?

Jeongguk… How will Jeongguk live after knowing that I went missing while searching for him? How will he live after losing both his love and child? 

A memory from a couple years ago hit your head. Both of you had gone on a foreign trip to New Zealand. On the second day, you were going to the Bay of Islands by bus. When you reached there, your keychain fell off and went under the seat while you were standing up to get out. You had told Jeongguk to go ahead and get the luggage from the bus bunker while you got the keychain. But the keychain had rolled off quite far. And the bus, not knowing you were still inside, had driven off as soon as both of your luggage was off of it. 

You managed to get off at the next stop just ten minutes away and take the return bus. But even though you had consoled Jeongguk over the phone that you were fine and you were returning, when you reached where he was, he hugged you so tightly as if you would disappear if he let you go. And his silent tears wetted your dress. He had always been such a worrywart. 

Would he be okay?  

You wondered how Hoseok was doing inside the cage called the Balam Manor. He was probably on the verge of losing his spirit. He had always been good under pressure but never good when he was lonely. 

How would Hoseok’s parents feel about losing their son? How would Jiwoo cope with losing her brother? How would Ji-a live with shattered dreams in an empty home? Can I face them after pushing Hobi to certain death? What about Jeongguk’s parents? Can I face them if I do not choose Jeongguk now? 

What would dad have done? He probably would have chosen the one with the better chance at a good life. And at this moment, it seems to be… 

You picked up Hoseok’s with your other hand and silently gave back Jeongguk’s and your father’s tags back to Duri. 

“That was fun. Though I was expecting a stream of tears, these few drops are good too. You are a smart one, aren’t you? Now you won’t have to go back and answer your boyfriend's family and your mom why you didn't choose their son and husband. Now sit here like a good girl until I come back.” Duri said and turned back with the snowglobe. The sigil on his neck was bright like burning coal.

“Are you really going to let Hoseok leave?” You shouted behind him. 

“Of course, since we need an empty space anyway for you. But I can’t guarantee if it’s Hoseok or his body that’s going to lea—” 

Duri couldn’t finish his sentence as you hit his neck with the fire torch that you had taken out of its place by flinging your haversack at its bottom. 

You emptied the rubbing alcohol bottle from the first aid kit on him that you had taken out from your haversack before flinging it. 

Duri screeched an ear piercing cry in pain as his head caught fire, and he tried to put it out by slapping his hands profusely on his head. 

Taking the opportunity, you grabbed the snowglobe that had fallen on the floor and ran for the door. 

Despite being in pain, Duri ran behind you to catch you, but you had already crossed the threshold of the exit. Judging by the fact that the snowglobe didn’t get a single scratch on it even after falling on the floor with such an impact, it could only mean that it needed even more brutal force to break. There should be a field past the door and if you could just enter the woods beyond it somehow, then you would be able to find enough time to break the snowglobe. 

You shut the door behind you and looked ahead. 

What?

You were back in the hallway that you had just ran out from a moment ago. You had entered through the door that you had just left through. 

You looked around yourself and found only yourself in that empty hallway. Duri wasn’t there. Then you noticed the fire torch that you had flinged a while ago — it was intact in its place. 

Your haversack wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. 

You looked back at the door. It had the same neon exit sign on top of it. 

Is this the missing exit sign from the Balam Manor miniatures?

If I go back through this door then Duri will surely catch me. I have no choice but to run inside the manor.

Without wasting any time, you ran towards the painting through which you had entered. But when you got out of it, you found yourself in complete darkness. You went back to the secret passageway and shot at one of the fire torch holders. It fell loose and the fire torch fell on the floor. You took it and reentered the mansion’s main hallway. You were taken aback upon noticing you were in the right hallway instead of the left one. 

But that wasn’t what surprised you the most. It seemed like you had entered a different mansion altogether. The interior was in ruins and was covered in years of dust, dirt and cobwebs. You slowly walked through the filth. You had nothing on yourself except the snowglobe and the gun. You must find an instrument to break the snowglobe soon. 

You came across rooms that you hadn’t seen before and it all seemed haphazardly placed. The paintings on the walls had lost all their glory to silverfishes and moths. Your feet left deep prints on the innumerable unsweeped layers of dust on the floor and your bare feet wiggled in them. 

After walking for a few minutes, you reached where the living room was supposed to be, but there was just an empty space and a rectangular opening in the floor through which a staircase went further downstairs. 

Is that the basement? 

You noticed a faint light coming from inside it. Conflicted on whether you should go check out the source or not, you stopped short on your track. 

It could very much be Duri or… a survivor. 

You decided that you would just take a peek and run back if you sensed any danger. 

With careful steps you descended the stairs.  You ended up in a well-lit and short hallway through whose middleway there was an arch-like structure that led to another hallroom with no door. 

You saw a figure kneeling on the floor in a defeated position with his head hanging low. 

His outfit, his short hair was all too familiar to you. 

You kept the snowglobe near the arch just in case and approached him cautiously. 

His bare neck had no branding on them. 

You gasped in a struggle to breathe as tears welled up in your eyes and you called out- 

“Hoba?” 

— © 2024 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. Reposting or modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.

[usmsgutterson]

you’re laying waste to halloween- give me a trope or an AU (soulmates, best friends to lovers, etc.)  and a character, and I’ll write a fic for it that’ll be 1-8000 words in length. (you can let me know how long you want the fic to be, and if you want it on the longer side, the more specific you get about details and settings and specifics about the AU, the better!)

best friends to lovers with kaz?? maybe they grew up together and go through everything side by side and we just see their relationship grow deeper and deeper until their practically married

To The End- Kaz Brekker

Okay! Hi! First off, I'm so sorry that this took ages!! I wanted to have it written and out by Wednesday of last week but then my brain decided to nitpick the way that I'd written it by that time to high fucking hell. A storm hit late friday and we had a power outage as well, so I only had the chance to get this done at around 9:30 as of saturday, and it's being posted about three-ish hours later!! I hope that the length of this fic (a bit over 7000 words) makes up for how late this is :)

I did take it in a bit of a different direction than what you'd requested. and if you want me to rewrite, please go ahead and let me know, I'll definitely do so!

I do have Kaz and the reader touch in this fic, but that’s at the end of the fic and it’s after Kaz has worked on his touch aversion. 

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of homelessness and a few mentions that the reader grew up homeless, depictions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, mentions of crimes such as arson and theft, and a mention of cheating, as well as a few mentions of water and the way that it behaves in relation to Kaz's trauma

SEVENTEEN

As Kaz’s gaze moved to the water, head inclined to it with his exhaustion, he couldn’t help but notice your footsteps. They were one of many sounds on the boat as the sun rose and people woke with the knowledge that the shores of Ketterdam were barely fifteen minutes off, but Kaz had been able to recognize your footsteps for eight years by that point. It was habitual, and at seventeen, there was no undoing it.

The heist you’d gotten back from was one that quite literally took a night and a morning. As the boat approached Ketterdam shores, there was forty-five minutes left to sunrise, at minimum. Everyone had slept through the day to compensate, and while Kaz had tried, he’d gotten four hours and called it a night.

“You were out here when I left,” you said as you joined him, standing on his left. You rested a cup of coffee onto the boat railing, and Kaz took it, the two of you moving like clockwork. “Tell me that you slept, Brekker. Even for a minute.”

“Four hours. More than I’ve gotten since we left.”

He looked at you, watching you shrug as he put the coffee mug on the railing. You took it, holding the warm mug as you spoke.

“I can’t judge,” you said. “Barely got enough of it myself, but I always get antsy on the returning trips. Trouble always awaits.” You took a sip of the coffee, placing it on the railing. Kaz took it, and when you moved, resting your back against the railing and allowing it to face the water, your eyes on his as you moved.

“Back in Ketterdam,” you said. “I’ve missed it here.” It’d been a long few weeks, to say the least of it. After the Ice Court, you’d pulled a heist in The Wandering Isle, having gotten the information through a contact you had there.

“We all have,” Kaz said. “You, especially, it seems. We’ll get the money upon our arrival?”

You glanced at shore, nodding as a grin pricked the edges of your lips. “I see the contact. They’re ready to make the exchange, if a bit antsy about it.”

“Fourteen million kruge on their person, I can imagine one would be a bit startled by it, especially so close to the Barrel,” Kaz answered. “Worth it haul, I would say. Especially when you consider the amount of jewelry, but never again will I travel so far as the Wandering Isle for a heist.”

You turned your gaze to him, smiling at him as you did. “You would,” you quipped, and damnit, you were right. For the right price, Kaz was entirely sure that he would be willing to go to any small corner of the world, even if it took him months to manage to get there.

The two of you stood, side by side, as the boat docked. Kaz finished his coffee, and shortly thereafter, the seven of you—yourself, plus Kaz, Inej, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, and Wylan—were off the boat. You shook hands with your contact, they bid a good day, and while the seven of you headed toward the Crow Club to split the rewards, your contact moved toward the warehouse district and Sixth Harbor, where a boat waited to take them to the Wandering Isle.

As you all arrived at the Crow Club, heading toward a booth at the back, greetings were tossed at you as Rotty clapped you on the shoulder, victorious smile on his face as he joined up.

“Alls well and good?” He asked.

“The heist went off with—” Nina stopped, scooting in next to you in the U-shaped booth. “Well, fewer hitches than the Ice Court.” Matthias followed Nina, then Jesper and Wylan. Inej and Kaz were the last ones in the booth, Kaz sitting at one end while you sat at the other.

“Well and good, Rotty,” you gave him a grin. “Seriously. Don’t worry too much about it.” With the words, Rotty walked away, heading into a loud conversation with a few of the club regulars.

“So, when’s the next job?” Jesper asked. Inej snorted.

“We’ve just gotten back,” she noted. Kaz watched as you waved a waiter over, ordering drinks and food for the table. “Are you so anxious to commit another international crime? Are the two we’ve managed in the past six months not enough?”

Jesper didn’t answer, merely pressing a kiss to Wylans head, purposefully ignoring the jab. Later, Nina and Inej sparked a conversation that took the attention of the whole table. When food and drinks came, the chatter only continued. There was so much of it, in fact, that it allowed you to slip away without it being noticed by anyone else.

Except for Kaz, of course. Kaz had known you eight years, and in those eight years, he’d made a habit out of noticing.

He let Inej know he’d see her, Nina, Matthias, Wylan and Jesper back at the Slat, leaving the briefcase in Inejs care before heading out, leaving through a back door and making sure his cane wasn’t heard as he walked. Nobody would notice someone they couldn’t hear, and having nobody aside from the Crows know that Kaz had left would be better for the club, anyway. Kaz’s presence was intimidating, one that most were terrified of, and when they assumed he was around, it kept the patrons of the club from cheating, or assuming that an employee wouldn’t notice and alert Kaz to it.

He let his cane be heard as he left the Crow Club, rounding the building and being careful to duck out of view from any windows. He checked the Slat, with no luck. He checked Wylan and Jespers place, not finding you there, either.

It hit him suddenly; he’d seen you leave the booth, not the building. He would’ve known if you’d left the building. As much as Kaz enjoyed your company, you had your predictable moments. Kaz could often count on you to be sitting on rooftops, enjoying the sounds of the wind as it blew past your ears.

He went into the Crow Club once more, making his way up to the roof, and—yeah. You stood, facing the direction of the breeze. Your back was to him.

Wordlessly, Kaz approached, standing to your right without saying anything. He didn’t object to look down, merely looked at the Ketterdam skyline from the vantage point provided by the roof.

“Hi,” you said after a moment. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“I found you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you said. When Kaz turned his head to look at you, he saw that you were almost smiling. “You always manage to, Brekker. Have you started doubting yourself?”

“Eight years as your closest friend? This last one spent—well—” As your partner? As a couple? Kaz couldn’t figure out how to say it. “No. At this point, in regards to you, doubt is not a word in my vocabulary.”

You did smile that time.

“Good to know.”

Silence lapsed between you two, your eyes looking over the skyline of Ketterdam, dotted with buildings before giving way to the water, the shadowy outlines of boats as they docked and left the harbor. Sunset had started, dousing the sky in pastel blues, purples, yellows and oranges, and still, even as beautiful as it was, Kaz found that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” You asked, eyes still on the skyline.

“Yeah,” Kaz agreed, nodding even though you wouldn’t notice it.

“Seriously, Kaz. It’s fucking gorgeous,” you said. “I come up to the roof for this view, normally late enough that I go unnoticed, but it’s wonderful to have someone to share this with.”

Kaz nodded again, eyes still not having moved to the skyline. “It’s incredible, actually,” he said, eyes only watching your expression.

When you turned to look at him, Kaz quickly brought his eyes to the skyline, fighting off the urge to grin as he did. He could feel your eyes as you watched him, felt it as they moved to the ground and back to him again.

“I have to agree with your words,” you said after a moment. “Incredible really does describe this view perfectly.” But you were still staring at him, still watching his features as he watched the skyline, noticed boats as they came into Ketterdam or left it.

Silences between the two of you were comfortable. They’d always been comfortable, easy and not difficult like silences often were with others.

“We should get back inside,” Kaz said as the darkness took the sky over. “They’ve noticed our absences by now, I guarantee it.”

You gave him a grin, the two of you heading back into the Crow Club together as you did.

-

The following morning, Kaz woke to the sound of the rain. He pressed his head into the pillow, kept his eyes closed and took in the smell of coffee and the sound of your voice as you hummed an old Ravkan tune and it carried through his office, past the small archway leading to his room, and finally met his ears.

Kaz sat up, running a hand through his hair before grabbing his cane and moving throughout the room. First, to grab clothes and a towel, then to shower. Once he was done and dressed, his hair in the process of air drying, he found himself in his office.

“You’re in quite the chipper mood,” he noted as he watched you take the teabag out of the mug you’d plopped it into. You’d set the coffee on his desk, and when Kaz took a sip of it, he noted that it was almost cold. “What’s got you so giddy?”

“I guess I woke up on the right side of the worlds thinnest mattress,” you joked. Kaz leaned back in his chair, reviewing plans he’d worked on the night before, for a heist in the Zelver District. “I don’t know why I woke up like this. Maybe I’m just happy to be back? I genuinely don’t know.”

“Well, either way, we’ve got another job next week,” Kaz said. “Zelver District. Ten thousand.”

“Crew?”

“Us and the rest of the crows, as normal,” Kaz said. “Try to relax today.”

You took your mug with both hands, flinching as you registered the heat that the cup was radiating with the boiled water still inside it, though you didn’t adjust your grip. You merely set it on the windowsill and climbed up, taking it back into your hands and appreciating the warmth that spread to them as you did.  

“Relaxing is my every intent,” you said. “How’d you sleep?”

“About as well as you, though for less time,” he took another sip of the coffee, resting the mug near the corner of his desk. “No major jobs til the next heist. We need to lay low for a bit.”

“I don’t hate the idea of that,” you said. “I’m content to stay in here and read for a bit, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” Kaz said. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, Y/N.”

“Thanks, love,” Kaz forced his gaze to the papers in front of him, the scrawls of the plan he’d set in motion early next week, executing it with you and the rest of the crows later on. He tried not to think of the nickname too much, of the implications that came with it, tried not to blush as he tried not to think.

Eventually, when the coffee you’d set out for him had been long made, your tea long drank and the mugs rinsed and set back onto the small table where they were kept, Kaz heard the sound of the downpour, falling asleep in his chair whilst you fell asleep sitting on the windowsill.

NINETEEN

“Hey,” You greeted as you walked up to Kaz. He passed you a tea as you passed him a coffee. You’d known each other for ten years by then. Ten years of knowing glances, of walking side by side, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

The pair of you walked back to the Crow Club, not talking at all. Ten years, Kaz noted. Ten years and the silences were still more comfortable than half the beds in the Slat.

You walked into the Crow Club, and it was like your attention had been commanded with your mere presence. You greeted several people with swift nods before yourself and Kaz found a table near the back, Kaz sitting his cane against the back of his chair.

You drank tea and listened to Kaz’s updates, telling him a few stories from your meeting with the triumvirate in Ravka in regards to a jewel heist. You told Kaz all that they’d told you to relay to him, and he told himself he would work on it later, knowing himself well enough to know that he’d remember every single detail you’d offered.

When Jesper, Wylan, Inej, Matthias and Nina joined you, pulling up chairs and ordering waffles, Jesper and Nina were grinning.

“So?” Nina asked.

“Next fall,” you said. “Fifty-six thousand kruge. Not much, but a lot, when considering it’s coming out of the pocket of a country that’s long been in debt.”

“They’re pulling themselves out, bit by bit,” Jesper said. “Paying back their loans. Ravka is getting back on it’s feet.”

“Nikolai assumes they’ll be out of debt completely within the next two decades,” you said. “Seems like a long time, but it’s really not, all things considered. Two decades to get out of debt they’ve been drowning in for more than two generations? I would’ve assumed they had it done before any of us hit thirty.”

“Anything from Kuwei?”

“He’s well,” you said. “Apparently he’s dating a Tidemaker who he met while on a mission in the Wandering Isle. I don’t really know, he spoke rather quickly, as he was trying to get to Davids quarters to offer an assist with something relating to fire.”

“Good on him, then,” Jesper said.

Nina ordered waters, popping a toffee into her mouth as the waiter walked off. When the waters came, you all thanked the waiter. Kaz watched you ignore the flirtations directed at you, felt anger come up from somewhere within him, though he quickly repressed it.

“So, next fall?”

“Fifty six thousand?”

“Who’s on the crew?”

“Everyone here,” you said, gesturing around the table. “Annika could be a very wise addition to the team for this one, but whether or not we’ll ask her onto the team is something that Kaz and I have yet to discuss.”

“Making decisions as a team now?”

“We’ve been doing it this way on all major jobs?” Kaz found himself stating. “The Ice Court, the heist in the Zelver District—”

“Oh, you mean the one that almost resulted in seven arrests?”

“Don’t act as though we didn’t make it away in time, Jes,” you said. “There’s a reason that you said almost. We made it out in time, evaded the stadwatch, and here we are.”

“Well, even so, it’s neat,” Nina said, giving you and Kaz both a smile. “I never thought that Kaz would have it in him to consult anyone else. It’s wonderful to know that such a skill exists in his arsenal.”

“I mean, in fairness, they’re not just his partner, they’re his best friend,” Wylan offered. “It makes sense that he’d go to them for a second opinion.”

You took a sip of your water, and Kaz watched you lean back in your chair, content to let a conversation take the table over. You loved your contented silences, he knew. You met his gaze, and for a moment, a small, almost nonexistent moment in time, Kaz wished he had the strength to reach across the table and take your hand in his.

The game he played with his touch aversion was a game of give and take. It was good days, bad days, days wherein there was simply nothing, an oddball-ish kind of in between wherein nothing took steps forwards or backwards, merely just stayed in place, caught in something like a stand still.

“I was thinking about going to Ravka before the next big thing,” you said. Kaz had known Ravka was on your mind. You’d needed something of a break, to put it simply. A break from heists, from crime. You’d needed time to lay on a bed that was better than just half decent. Since you’d mentioned it, Kaz had been debating going with you, leaving the Slat and the Crow Club in the care of either Inej or Annika. “Take a bit of a rest.”

“Ravka is always lovely in October,” it was close to fall. August was coming to an end.

“Leaving the Slat in the hands of Annika for a bit?” Jesper asked.

“That’s currently up for internal debate,” Kaz said. “Weighing it out, but if you can’t find me by this time two months from now, you know why.” Jesper cheers’d his glass against Kaz’s, grinning as he did.

“You really do look like you could use a bit of a vacation,” Nina said. “Maybe use the time to get a proper haircut, hm?”

Kaz merely offered a shrug as he brought the glass of water to his lips, meeting Ninas gaze as he did.

“Never.”

Nina laughed, leaning back in her chair, and Kaz’s gaze drifted back to you.

You met his gaze, offered him a grin, silently cheers’d your glass against his. Kaz watched you become enveloped in the conversation, content to remain quiet as he did.

-

“There’s something odd about the two of you,” Nina was saying to you a few weeks later. The two of you were walking along Sixth Harbor, having finished a job in the warehouse district and on the way to fifth, where you’d rejoin Kaz and Matthias for the last part of the job before you and Kaz headed off on a boat to Ravka, where you’d relax and see the sights for the following two weeks. “I mean—not odd, necessarily. Everything about the two of you makes a plenty good bit of sense, but—” she stopped herself.

“But?”

“I’m a Heartrender,” she said. “I register heartbeats around me, oftentimes without meaning to. Every heartbeat is unique, a sound similar to the others but also distinctly different. Kaz’s heartbeat is loud. It’s always been loud, and the one thing I’ve noticed with him, is that the second he looks at you, it gets faster than I’ve ever heard it. Even if it’s for a moment in time, a split second glance that nobody notices, the two beats that happen while he watches you are quicker than the two before and the two after. It happens every single time, too. Always.”

You looked at the ground, feeling your cheeks grow warm as you heard Ninas words.

“Your heartbeat does, too,” Nina continued. “I noticed it when I’d first met you and Kaz when we were sixteen. You’d been standing a few feet away, but every time you’d look at him, your heart would start racing in an instant. I don’t know if you were in love with him then, but if you weren’t and if I was wrong, my ears have certainly fooled me.”

You crossed into Fifth Harbor as she spoke, and as you did, you caught sight of Kaz and Matthias. They were both standing, eyes on the harbor as they engaged in conversation.

“There it goes again,” Nina said, laughing slightly. She draped an arm over your shoulders, grinning as you finally registered your own heartbeat. Nina had been correct, your heart was going fifty miles a minute. She watched Kaz turn his head, meeting your gaze in the process.

“And, there goes his!” she said, laughing a bit more. “Lovesick idiots, the two of you are.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. As you approached, Kaz and Matthias moved to meet you halfway.

As you looked at Kaz, you couldn’t help but grin, because Nina was right.

Fuck, did you love Kaz Brekker.

TWENTY-ONE

Fall in Ketterdam was always cold. Over time, yourself and Kaz had grown to call it pre-winter rather than fall, as the closer winter drew, the colder Ketterdam got. By the end of October, temperatures dropped to the negatives at least once every few weeks, often finding a spot in the colder side of the middle ground.

As Kaz walked into the Crow Club, cup of tea in hand, he placed it on the table at which you sat, meeting with a member of the Black Tips to negotiate the ownership of a building before it escalated to the point of a war. He didn’t look at you as he joined Inej at the table she’d chosen, though he knew you were due to join them any minute. A bit of guesswork and bluffing on your part would have the Black Tips allowing the building to come into complete Dregs ownership, and within days, the building would be ready to open.

“How’re things going with the meet?” Inej asked as Kaz sat down.

“Seemed like it was going well, but we’ll find out in a matter of minutes,” Kaz said.

“Have they told you what they want to do with the building yet?”

“They’re turning it into a cheap diner for Barrel residents only,” Kaz said. “ID needs to be provided in order to eat there, unless someone living on the streets is brought in, and the cooks are required to make extra so as to have enough to feed a few of the people living on the streets throughout the city.”

“An anti-tourist establishment?” Inej asked. “That’s incredible.”

Kaz merely shrugged at that. “They lived on the streets once,” he said. “They don’t want to become a landlord, though, so this was the next best thing. For Barrel residents, no meal costs more than five kruge, and the homeless get them for free. They’ve set up an initiative, too. They’re buying out a few of the old warehouses in the warehouse district and paying the people on the streets to help get them fixed up. The Merchant Council is regarding them as one would regard a criminal less and less these days. I read recently that more jobs have opened up in the financial district and they’re paying for transportation there from the Barrel. More rooms in the Slat have opened up, and we’re letting people in until they can get on their feet without being a member of the Dregs being on that list of requirements. All per my loves request, of course.”  

“Ninas right about you, you lovesick fool,” Inej said teasingly. “It’s nice, though. I didn’t think you the type to be capable of being lovesick for anyone.”

“I’m not lovesick,” Kaz denied. “It’s a smart business plan, and if any of them decide they don’t like working for the banks or the merchants or whoever they end up working for, there’re jobs open most everywhere in the Barrel and the Zelver District. It just depends on which gangs territory they work in.”

Inej just gave Kaz a grin as you approached the table, sitting down next to Kaz as you sipped your tea, a victorious kind of glint in your eyes.

“The property is mine, Geels will be dead by tonight, and everything is already set in motion.”

“What information did you get on him?”

“Geels is having an affair with the girlfriend of the guy I met, something I found out this morning. I let him know and he gave me the property in a second before thanking me for telling him. I did it out of obligation. I don’t care if they’re a rival gang, nobody gets to cheat and get away with it.”

“Geels will come after you for that.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll do the opposite,” you said. “He’ll crawl into some hole in the world and never come out of it again.”

“If he doesn’t do such, I’ve got your six,” Kaz said. You grinned, meeting his gaze as he spoke, and Kaz felt his heartbeat grow a bit quicker, like Nina had often teased him about.

“For that, I have no doubt,” you said. “You’ve always had my six, and I’ll always have yours. To the end, Brekker.”

“To the end,” he responded, standing up as he spoke the words. “I have to meet with a member of the Merchant council in relation to a contract, and I’ll be late if I’m not heading out now. No mourners.”

“No funerals.” With the words, Kaz turned and walked out of the Crow Club

-

Kaz came home with a slight grin on his face, and it only widened as he saw you.

“Hi,” he said. You were standing, back pressed against the wall as you read through some plans for a heist that was to happen the following week. “The deal is in for the property that you’re turning into a shelter. Eliot Vales son is working for you, so he didn’t need any convincing. Pretty much just asked me to pull out the contract and a pen, signed it, and then treated me to a glass of wine and a few bottles from his personal cellar as a thanks for all the help you’ve given his son.”

“Eliot Vale is the guy you were meeting with?” You asked, eyes turning from the paper. “Goodness! I could’ve gone to that meeting with you, love. Will asked me to send along a happy update to his father.”

“Send along a letter,” Kaz suggested. “I’ll be able to help you fix up the drywall in the building over the weekend. The restaurant opens when?”

“The beginning of November, so long as I can get it in shape by then,” you said. “Provided that I work on the shelter just as much, it’s likely that they’ll open on the same day.”

“And the warehouse project?”

“It’s going a lot better than I expected,” you said. “I’ve met with the council and asked them to give me a hundred thousand to contribute to the wages of the people I’ve hired. I think it was because of Eliot that my request was approved.”

“You really are too good for this place,” Kaz said. You leaned over and tapped the papers against the desk, straightening them so that they made a neat pile, before placing them back into the binder you’d taken them from and closing the rungs.

“I love the life I live now,” you said. “I love doing what I do. Petty crimes, arson, theft, all of it, yeah. It’s among my favorite things about living here, but I grew up where so many others are now, on the streets. I hate seeing so many people going through the same. They need help, and I don’t care how many items I’ve stolen, how many places I’ve set on fire. If nobody on the Council will give it to them, I will. I don’t even care that they’re giving me the money I need to increase the wages a bit. They wouldn’t be doing so if Eliot had never been introduced to the council, if it wasn’t him to take Van Ecks place.”

Your dedication was more than impressive. It was admirable.

“Kaz, you understand it, too, right? I can’t keep letting them sweep the homeless under the rug like it’s nothing. I refuse to do so.”

“I get it,” Kaz nodded. “I kill for a cause, you live for one. We’re opposites that way.”

You nodded, the truth to the words settling in the quiet of the room.

TWENTY-THREE

You laughed a bit as you corrected another person who’d greeted you upon your entrance into the Crow Club. You sat next to Kaz, who’d been on one end of the U-Shaped booth, with you on the other, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, Inej and Nina  sat between the two of you.

“The marriage rumor has gotten too far out of hand,” you spoke as you sat. Nina slid you the brandy she’d ordered for you, and you took a sip, enjoying the way that the sweet bitterness slid down your throat. “I’ve been addressed as Mx. Brekker nine times today! I’m being referred to as such in letters from the bloody Ravkan king!”

“Are we due in for another heist down there?” Jesper asked. “Been a bit since the last one, hasn’t it?”

“Something about a dress of jewels or something?—it’s a long story, Kaz and I will explain it when he’s sent along more context,” you said. “I’m at the point wherein I’m completely ready to stop correcting people.”

“You two are common law at this point,” Wylan said pointedly. “Ketterdam law says that a couple is in a common law marriage if they’ve lived together more than two years, and you two have shared the third floor for three years now.”

“If that means I can’t correct people anymore, I’m fine with it,” you said. “I’m too sick of having to do so to continue on, anyway. If Kaz is fine with it, so am I.”

Kaz shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said.

“How’re things with the shelter?”

“They’re going incredibly. There’s fifty occupants now, where there used to be ten times as many. Zoya mentioned putting one in Ravka with my assistance on the project, and I wrote to her recently to see about creating a space for Grisha who’re on the run from angry slavers, setting up something at Fifth Harbor to direct them to Ravka. I told her I’d need her help with that, and I was hoping to get you on the project?” You turned to Nina, who was beaming.

“Yeah,” she said. “Always happy to help the cause. Anything you need.”

“Repairs need to be made at the restaurant, right?”

“A few minor things. The storm we had last week blew through a few windows that never got closed. I’m installing the lights and fixing up some patchy drywall this week,” you said. “I’ll close the diner for a night or two, deep clean it and give it a fresh coat of paint like it deserves.”

“I can install the lights,” Matthias offered.

“Wylan and I can help with the painting and Kaz can definitely sweep a floor or two.” Jesper offered.

“Inej and I will come around to keep you lot company,”

You grinned. “That sounds wonderful. Thanks, guys.”

“We love you, Y/N,” Nina said.

“Yeah,” Inej added. “We do love you, a bloody lot, especially Kaz.”

“Any from Will?” Kaz asked.

“A letter,” you said. “He’s in Ravka working with the royals for now. He’s just been promoted to communications liaison between Ravka, Ketterdam, Shu Han, Fjerda, Novyi Zem and The Wandering Isle. His boyfriend recently proposed to him, and they’ve bought a place close to the palaces with some of the money Will had been setting aside when he got his paychecks. I promised we’d pop in for a visit whenever it was we next found ourselves there, so around the time of the next heist.” With the words, you stood, giving Kaz a grin as you walked out, heading to the diner to make a list of all that needed fixing as a result of the storm.

-

By midnight, something of a miracle had happened. The walls had been painted, the floors swept and then mopped. Lights to replace the broken ones had been twisted into their sockets. The counters had been wiped down, the ovens and stovetops cleaned and then cleaned again to be sure that no dirt had been left behind. Cabinets had been dusted and wiped down.

As Kaz looked at the time, he realized it was just after midnight. Matthias hauled in another bag of flour as you put a lid on a container full of it. Matthias opened the bag as you grabbed the last container, pouring the flour into it. Matthias passed the bag to Kaz once it was emptied, who put it into a bin and placed the filled container into the cabinet where the flour was kept.

The seven of you walked out of your restaurant, heading to the Barrel with relative silence, at first.

Then, the rain, on a relatively clear night in Ketterdam, began. At once, everyone turned to look at one another, yours and Kaz’s gaze meeting while Ninas gaze met Inej and Matthias, Jespers gaze met Wylans.

“I hate Ketterdam,” Matthias said.

“I love it,” you said. “I met Kaz when the weather was like this. I’ve loved it as long as I can really bother to remember.”

“Meeting Kaz is as far back as you can bother to remember anything?” Matthias asked. You shrugged, bare hand brushing against Kaz’s as you stepped forward, face tilting toward the sky as your arms extended. Kaz paused, expecting the water to start rushing toward his ankles, only to find that it did, for a single moment.

“Shit, sorry!” You said, meeting Kaz’s gaze.

He shook his head, waiting still for the water to react. “It was an accident. You’re fine, Y/N.”

For a single moment, the water rose.

But then? After that?

The water receded.

It stopped.

You tilted your head to the sky, and, almost completely infatuated, Kaz watched.

“When I met him, I went through a bit of a butterfly effect. Seeing him and his brother as they walked past me on the way to meet someone, it got me right here. I’m grateful for that, so yeah. Meeting Kaz Brekker is, in fact, as far back as I can be bothered to remember.”

Kaz gave you a grin, feeling his heart grow lighter.

You were the love of his life.

Well, and truly, you were.

TWENTY-FIVE

Kaz swallowed thickly as his fingertips met yours. He watched your hand, watched his own, as he willed the waters to a distance, moved his fingertips down until suddenly, your palm was against his. He could grab your wrist if he moved just a bit more, hold your hand just as some part of him had been wanting to for eight years.

“Saints,” he said, unable to think of anything else to say. He moved his hand, grabbed your wrist lightly. When he looked up, feeling the burn of your gaze, he just nodded, and slowly, carefully, you did the same.

“Saints indeed,” you said.

Kaz stared, almost unable to believe it.

He’d started working on his touch aversion shortly after the last Ravkan heist, and it’d taken him two years to get to that, a lot of trial and error, steps forward and backward, giving and taking. It was a gut wrenching, sometimes painful process, but as he held your wrist, felt the cool feeling of the ring on your finger against his own, he wasn’t in pain.

For the first time in a long time, the touch wasn’t making him want to vomit, wasn’t reeling in the waters, flooding every single one of his senses like it so often did. He could only stare, shocked, unsure of what to do next.

“Where do we go from here?”

“I’ll make that the choice of the one with the touch aversion,” you said. Kaz held your wrist for another minute. Maybe it was two, maybe three or even five, but still, somehow, it felt like it’d been bare seconds.

He let go of your hand, willed himself to look at you, really look at you.

You looked genuinely thrilled.

“Hi,” he said, almost breathless.

“Hey,” you grinned.

Kaz, completely unsure whether he was making the right call, lifted a hand to your face, cupping the side of it. He waited for the water, waited for it to flood and pool at his ankles as it always seemed to, ruining even the moments that felt more than perfect.

“This is terrifying,” Kaz said. “I love it.”

“I love you, Brekker,” you said.

“I love you too,” he responded.

That night was the same as many other nights were. It always started with Kaz trying to hold your wrist, trying to get used to letting you hold his. Some nights, Kaz couldn’t even stand the way that your fingertips felt against his own, sometimes he needed to break when your palms met, other times he just couldn’t do It, but more and more, it seemed, you progressed passed that. Kaz felt ready to try something different, something more.

And then, much like it always had to, the water pooled in, and like clockwork, you let go of Kaz’s wrist and when he let go of yours, you stepped back, went through the bedroom to the office, got started on a coffee while Kaz gripped his cane, got the waters back to bay. You passed him the coffee, holding the mug by the handle where Kaz grabbed the body, the both of you operating carefully so as to make sure there was no accidental brushing of hands.

Kaz would apologize. You would tell him he didn’t need to, that you understood and were okay with things as they were. Kaz hated himself those nights, hated to think that you’d grown used to the fact that, up to that point, Kaz had only ever been capable of loving you from a distance, loving you with his back pressed against walls and doorways.

-

Inej, and Kaz had been walking through the Barrel, heading back to the Slat. “Are the rumors true?” Inej had asked at some point. “Y/N with a ring spotted on their finger and again with one on a chain while they bartended. You, with a piece of silver around your neck, one that many think has a ring attached to it?”

“It happened at the start of September,” Kaz said. “I should’ve told you, I know.”

“You could’ve written, but I understand why it slipped your mind,” Inej said. “Proposals, engagements, in our respective lines of work? There often isn’t time to celebrate them.”

“Please, Inej,” Kaz said as he registered that glint in her eye. “Don’t tell me you planned a party.”

“Nina did,” she said. “And, even then, it’s not a party. It’s dinner at the Crow Club to celebrate.”

“Thank the saints, then.”

“Don’t start hitting me with that bullshit,” Inej said. “I had to talk Nina down from a party in one of the most extravagant spots in the Financial District. You’re lucky I even managed that, but I do have the capability to be pushed towards wanting to tell her you’ve changed your mind.”

“I will pay you a thousand kruge to do the opposite.”

Inej laughed, and Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

“You’ve changed quite a bit in the past eight years,” Inej said a while later, when the Slat had been maybe eighty more steps off. “For the better, of course. I like this version of you.”

“I’m still who I was,” Kaz said.

“People have seen you and Y/N in the past few months, hands interlaced as you talked and walked about the streets,” Inej said. “I’m not saying that you’re not the same murderous criminal that you’ve always been, Brekker. If anything, I actually think you’ve gotten more prone to violence in these past few months. I’m saying that you’re not the same person you were when your relationship had just begun. I’m saying that you’ve become a better person because of them.”

“I love them wholeheartedly,” it was the first time that Kaz had allowed any kind of a statement to be said to anyone except for you. “I became a better man because I needed to. They just gave me a reason to want to do it, and I’m grateful for that.”

“You should be,” Inej said. “You should let them know as much, anyway.”

“I’m grateful for you too, Mrs. Ghafa,” nine years of friendship, of unexpected camaraderie, and that was where the two of them ended up. Talking as they walked to the Slat, preparing for another heist like so many others they’d done before. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“Any time, Kaz,” she said. “C’mon. I have to get into an argument with Jesper, Nina, Wylan and Matthias about who’s officiating the wedding.” Kaz looked at the ground as he smiled to himself.

He’d done it. He’d proposed. He’d proposed and you two were going to get married at a date you’d not yet decided, though you’d both agreed it had to be at some point throughout October.

As Kaz walked into the Slat, such knowledge was almost mystifying. He’d gotten himself exactly where he’d hoped, but simultaneously never expected to be,

TWENTY-SEVEN

Kaz’s bare hand cupped your face, the touch almost feather light, but you knew he was there. You could feel it, feel his skin against yours. When his thumb glided along your cheek, you felt lighter than a fucking feather.

His hand had been there, in that same spot, for maybe ten minutes, one hand against your waist, his gaze unwavering.

It was funny, really. Every time you looked at Kaz, you were almost convinced he was factory made, nothing more than a severely attractive robot who’d been sent to Ketterdam to commit crime and brood. It just seemed like there was no way for someone so attractive to be allowed to exist.

“I wonder often how I got so lucky as to meet you,” you said. “I don’t understand it, Brekker. I never have, and I think I’m alarmingly content with the fact that I probably never will.”

“I often think the same thing,” Kaz said. “I look at myself, knowing all that I’ve killed, everything that I’ve sacrificed for the utmost selfish reasons, and I get confused as to why I was allowed to have you still be apart of my life. I wondered it after my first kill, when we first joined the Dregs, when you almost died in the Ice Court.”

He took another step forward, pressed his forehead against yours, watching as your eyes closed before he closed his own, and waited for the water.

It seemed, though, on that day, the water would not make an appearance.

It seemed that Kaz had negotiated a sort of peace with it, at least for that moment. The water had long grown sick of the games they played together, had given Kaz at least a day of happiness, one wherein he made more progress than the day before and allowed himself to enjoy it.

“I wonder often why the universe allowed me someone so good,” he said. “I have spent many nights thinking that I don’t deserve you, Y/N. Not for all that I am, all that I have been.”

His words were met with silence, and for that, he was glad. He was sure he wouldn’t know how to respond had you said something in turn.

“Loving you has been the greatest thing that I’ve had the privilege of happening to me,” Kaz said. “I love you wholeheartedly, Y/N. I always have, and I know that I always will.”

“I would love you in death,” you said.

Kaz opened his eyes, separated only an inch from you. Your eyes opened shortly thereafter and your gazes met. Kaz was overwhelmingly in love with you. He’d been overwhelmingly in love as long as he could care to remember.

“I catch myself wondering how a man so beautiful as you are is allowed to exist from time to time.” Kaz laughed.

“I am not beautiful,” he said.

“You’re saintly.”  

“This, coming from the one who is often the most ethereal person in the room?”

“Often?” You asked.

“Always,” Kaz laughed. “Always the most ethereal person in the room, love. I apologize for my having misspoken.”

“I love you, Mr. Brekker.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Kaz said, allowing his eyes to close. He paused, took a deep breath in and grounded himself a bit. “To the end.”

Kaz had never felt so content, as when he stood there with you, hand holding yours as yours was against his face, arm wrapped around your waist and forehead pressed to yours.

Often, outside of moments like that, ones where the water had receded and allowed him moments wherein he was so content he thought he was going to melt, he still had to lean his back against walls and doorways, still had to cast loving glances from a bit further of a distance.

There was a difference, though. Two years earlier, when Inej had said he’d changed, she’d been right. She’d absolutely been correct, as she most often was, it was just that Kaz had changed in more than the ways she’d described.

At seventeen, though he’d been in a relationship with you, there was still the thought in his mind that love was a weakness, one that could get someone killed, one that could result in a terrible kind of heartbreak.

At twenty-seven, married to you and more than happy in such marriage, he knew that his beliefs on love had changed completely, for at twenty-seven, he did not view love as weakness. He rather thought it the smart option to view it as strength.

[jenuinely-speaking]

Delvation

The blend of two words, Delve; to dig up and study, and Causation; the event where a permanent effect takes place.

Hit some snags on my main story, so taking a break to write a one-shot that's been swimming rent free in me noggin' for the past month. I'm halfway done with it, so I might actually post it later tonight! In the meantime, here's a segment with the boys as a little preview:

Note: Everyone I write is aged up to be adults, unless stated otherwise. Universe: Bayverse Setting: New York City Tunnels, New York (guys are 30) Warnings: Swearing, grammar mistakes ---++---++---++ Turtles ++---++---++---

A relaxing, slow and mindless day—thank the Universe and Pizza Supreme both – Donatello was able to get some much needed work done. He had a lot of updates he needed to make on the both of their vehicles, and Raphael wanted his help on completing his latest portion on the latest motorbike he'd been working on for the last six months. He had planned to spend the entire day, par meals and their scheduled two hour training periods, shell deep in their large garage. Music blaring, drills going, sparks flying, grease and oil cased until he was in much need of a shower.

He had planned that.

What he got instead was, at hour three, his silent border alarms went off on his wrist watch. Without hesitation but with many, many cuss-words stringing abound beneath his beak, he bee-lined it to his computers.

He'd been watching the group since, perhaps the last forty or so minutes; humans that were delving the tunnels. Looked like they were kids, five of them with the eldest possibly college age. But thankfully, they showed to be well-verse in protection and inspection of their surroundings; all wearing PM2.5 masks, the two leads sporting tactical night vision goggles with grade-A flexibility, a bonus in his books, and one of the guys in the middle with a night vision camera. This wasn't their first tunnel to explore.

“Any new things happening with the group?”

Don split his attention for a second to see his elder brother walk in, blue mask rested around his neck as he walked in with a small plate of donuts in one hand and two mugs in the other. Sweet, sweet Galileo, what a savior.

Just as the snack had been placed on a nearby table, Don grabbed a jelly donut and took an immediate large bite. The heavenly thankful sound he made was closer to a churr than a sigh when the grape jelly touched his tongue, but the black coffee made it all the better.

“No; but the young woman that's with them is funny.” he murmured through his bite and went back to his desk to continue surveying the said group.

“Funny?” Leo appeared standing next to him, the second mug in hand. "Funny, how?" His tone conveyed a blend of suspicion and curiosity as he looked at the screens that showcased the group, currently having stopped to laugh about something.

Don gave a nod towards the screens showing the kids through a bite that finished off the donut, “mmhm.” His smile peaked through his chewing and sip of coffee that gave his snack that delicious finish before he sighed, satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. “She made a joke about Brown Noise during their discussion about tinnitus. Apparently one of the boys' ears have been ringing, and she thought it was a perfect opportunity.” A chortle from his elder brother had him grinning; he knew Leo would at least get a kick out of the science joke, like he had.

“Are any of them related?” Leo leaned against the computer desk with a balanced arm while he sipped his coffee, his sapphire eyes taking detailed notes of the spy camera screens. He blinked when one of the screens zoomed in on two individuals; the tallest boy with a designed high buzz cut and an athletic body that screamed “sports jock” and the one girl in the group with wavy hair set in a high tail. Though, Don claims she's a young woman that's at least in her mid-twenties, based on her height and voice. Leo wasn't sure about that. “These two?” He raised a brow ridge. Even with them wearing PM2.5 masks and dexterous night vision goggles, he could tell they did not look anything alike.

“Yeah,” Don supplied and pointed his cursor on both, “after she made the joke, the boys were talking about how this kid, Kayden, and his family always make the others laugh with science jokes.” With a shrug he clicked the screen back to its original position, “not sure how they are related, but they are according to that admission.”

Leo nodded in acknowledgment, “any luck finding out who those two are?” He knew Don had a hard time locating their identities, unlike the other three boys, who were without facial obscuring goggles. When he saw the cursor move to another screen that was sifting through a picture-label directory at an unseeable speed, he blinked and raised a questioning brow ridge back at his grinning little brother.

“When Kayden's name came up, I started sifting through the boys' online schoolbooks.” His grin faltered as he looked on at the screen next to it with ten pictures of boys with the same name, varying spellings, displayed. When another popped up, his frown deepened, “it's a popular name, to say the least.”

All Leo could do is hum in agreement as yet another boy's image with provided basic information popped up on the growing list. So far, none of the listed boys looked like they could be the one in their tunnels, based on hair style alone.

Both tensed when the parameter alarms went off once more, only this time it wasn't the silent pings, but a short blaring.

Donatello shot up to attention with a slam of his now empty mug. With a few clicks, the alarm was shut off and he immediately went into the camera system to see where it was triggered.

“What asshole mutant decided to pick a fight today?” Raph grumbled as he jogged into the labs, a well-used towel draped around his girthy neck as he wiped it and his bare forehead from sweat.

“Not sure. Donnie's looking into it,” Leo's sights flickered to their baby brother screeching his skateboard to a halt at the threshold and kicked it up before entering.

“Yo, those kids alright?” Mikey sounded more concerned than the rest of them as he stood on Donatello's other side of the computer station. “They didn't stumble on Leatherhead, did they?”

Shit, Leo didn't even think about that. Looking back up at the screen, his eyes widened at seeing the now highlighted spy cam box that showcased the mutant parameter trigger. It was the same spy cam screen showcasing the kids standing by the water.

The kids had stopped at some point to look at the water, something having caught their attention. They seemed to be frozen, all five looking tense with anticipation for something to happen. When Don clicked to increase the video size and began to mess with the settings, Leo couldn't help but feel that he and his brothers were now reflecting the human group on the screen: tense, coiled, and sweating with sparking anticipation.

A separate screen popped up, highlighting a zoomed area where one of the humans was already looking towards. When Don enhanced the settings for a sharper, clearer look at what was in the water, all four turtles sharply inhaled.

“Shit.” Don frantically stood from his chair and by passed his brothers to grab his gear.

“Dojo. Now!” Leo clipped, and he and his two other brothers ran full speed to get their weapons.

Not even seconds later, all four were running down the tunnels towards the one that held the human group.

“Donnie! Fastest route, now!”

He was three steps ahead of Leo as he yelled “this way!” and flipped onto his shell after a sharp turn; they were taking the fastest short cut through the river tunnels.

“How long 'till we get to the kids, Brain?” Raph hollered through the rush of the water.

“Any way we can get eyes on them!?” Yeah, the brothers could sympathize with Mikey on that one.

Don held up his wrist to double check their trajectory and time on his projected screen, “less than a minute!” He looked back towards his brothers, “Sorry, Mike—not gonna be able to hold eyes on them with this water spray.”

“Awe man.”

“I want all of you primed,” Leo interjected, “Donnie, focus on any that are injured—get them out of there immediately. Mikey, help him with either the injured or protection, preferably the latter. Raph, you're with me. We're going to keep that sonuvabitch off of them.” A loud crick sounded over the water spray of their fast travel as Raph flexed his neck, “with pleasure.”