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what-the--curtains · 3 years

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Not a Piece of Art

Part 1/4 - A Grudge Like No Other

(Javier Peña x f!reader)

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Summary: You’re tasked with an impossible mission and an even more impossible partner to complete it with.

Authors note: I have never not once seen narcos all I know if based on other fics I’ve read so pls be kind but let me know if anything’s wildly out of character! Also I’m aware forensics wasn’t a solid discipline (especially DNA fingerprinting) but we’re gonna pretend it is. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged (or untagged) 😊

Tw: Mentions of fake parental death, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.1k

Tagged list: @agingerindenial @diogodxlot

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The morning sun radiates down on your shoulders as you lock the door to your apartment complex behind you. Despite the early hour it was already far too hot, but at least the humidity wouldn’t kick in until the afternoon. You’d been working in Colombia for a few months now, but the heat wasn’t something you’d ever get used to. You weren’t complaining, most days you preferred it to the frigid temperatures that painted your childhood. The frost bitten noses, wool socks and thick snow falls coating tree branches seemed all but a distant memory now. You’d settled on Columbia after your long time best friend Connie convinced you to take the universities offer. She had recently made the move down south and was eager to have you there with her.

She’d told you about the job and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had marched down to the university herself and dropped off your resume. She’d flown up to Brown and helped you pack up your life and then unpack it after your arrival to the terraced apartment Connie had picked out for you both to live in. It was a decent size and the balcony was south facing which gave you all day access to the sun. When you weren't working you spent your time out there soaking up the sun and watering the small garden you had been tending to since your arrival. Your days were primarily spent at the university working out the finer details of the forensics lab you were hired to set up. Your PhD in forensic anthropology has left you with various laboratory based skills, including DNA analysis, making you a coveted asset to the campus. Whilst in school you had also completed an art certificate which came in handy when facial reconstructions were needed.

After everything was in place you began running samples, processing unidentified remains by working on dental ID’s and facial reconstructions, as well as testing for drug residue. Despite being run by the University your job wasn’t as research based as you would have hoped with your work often falling under the DEA’s jurisdiction. You weren't involved in their day to day protocols. You mainly just ran the tests, or identified bodies recovered from the crime scene only conversing with them when it was absolutely necessary. Police work wasn’t in your wheelhouse, and it wasn’t a profession you supported or believed in.

Many faces passed through your workspace all demanding your utmost attention claiming their projects to be the most important. One frequent flyer through the lab was Steve Murphy, who Connie had met down in Miami a few years back. His relationship to your friend was the only reason you had bothered to make an effort with him. A friendship was established between the two of you faster than you had expected, due in part to his easy southern charm, but mainly because he and Connie evidently had feelings for eachother. You always found it easier to get along with men who weren't trying to get into your pants which was, unfortunately, a frequent occurrence in the male dominated discipline you worked in. There was only one flaw you could attribute to Steve, his work wife, the other half of the DEAs “dynamic duo”, agent Javier Peña. You’d never been formally introduced to the man, but his reputation preceded him. His was a face that also made frequent appearances in your lab but you'd never spoken more than three words to each other which was, probably for the best. You had what some might deem a confrontational personality and from what you understood Peña was, to put it nicely, an asshole.

He always came in sporting a more casual look and sunglasses which he kept on despite being indoors, a habit that drove you up the wall. He’d tap the file on the glass to get your attention always making you walk the five extra steps to get to him. You didn’t bother to look up when he passed the beige folders to you just grabbed the file from his hands and added it to the pile on your desk. He’d started attaching yellow sticky notes with “put a rush on” scrawled across them in impatient handwriting, as if his case was more important than the remains you were currently working on identifying. Not talking was a strategic move on your part, you’d heard he was quite the charmer when he needed something done, and you weren't going to let him get away with that. You ran this lab, not Javier Peña. Was your dismissal of him warranted? Maybe not, but your gut instinct was usually right and the rumour mill had painted Peña in a very specific manner. You weren't about to let yet another hot headed alpha male who took “too much male energy” to an entirely new level into your life.

Unfortunately, your knack for avoiding him became nearly impossible when you were called out to work on a crime scene. Despite your refusal to work in the field, the remains couldn’t be moved so you had to go to them. The site was just far enough away that a daily commute would have been tedious so you, along with the dynamic duo and your forensic team were booked into a nearby hotel. You weren't sure what you'd done in your past life to piss off the gods but somehow you’d ended up sandwiched between Steve and Peña. Steve wasn’t the issue, apart from the TV which you’d hear blare spanish dubbed reruns of Miami Vice between 4 and 8 PM, he was a quiet, considerate neighbour. Peña, on the other hand, was neither considerate or quiet particularly during the late hours of the night while you were trying to sleep. Sharing a wall with the agent proved to be an issue, so much so that by the third day just looking at him filled you with such intense rage that you'd given yourself lockjaw.

Every night without fail you laid awake as the exaggerated, bordering on ridiculous, moans coming from whoever he'd enticed into bed that night reverberated through your shared wall. You'd tried it all, earplugs, pillows so forcefully wrapped around your head you were essentially smothering yourself, but the sounds still permeated through the plaster and into your head. On the fourth night when you heard the talking start you knew what you had to do. You furiously wriggle free from your sheets and make your way out into the hallway. You walk one door over and inhale deeply before aggressively pounding your fist on the door.

“Hey” you say, through gritted teeth.

“Hey?” a slightly disheveled Steve murmurs eyes squirting into the hallway’s bright lights as his arms cross clumsily over his bare chest.

“Look I hate to ask but can I sleep on your couch, the walls are thin and...”

“And Peña has a thing for loud women '' he finishes for you, shoulders relaxing as he opens the door up for you “surprised you lasted this long, come in i'll grab you some pillows”

“Thanks for letting me sleep here, I think I may have killed him in the field tomorrow if I didn't get at least an hour of sleep. Also this isn’t some tactic to get you to bed so you can stop trying to cover your modesty” You say wiping your eyes, as Steve drops his arms to his side laughing.

“I know, believe me, besides i'm sure you're aware I’m only interested in one person.” So he did have a thing for Connie.

“You should go for it, I think she'd say yes” you offer, even in your sleep deprived state you were still a pretty solid wingwoman.

“You think?” His eyes light up, further cementing your belief that Steve, despite being friends with Peña, was a good guy.

“Thanks” you murmur as he hands you some pillows and a light sheet. It's not long before the AC’s quiet hum draws you into a deep sleep.

The alarm blaring out from Steve’s room pulls you from your dreaming state, groaning as you squeeze a pillow over your head. Why was it that you always felt worse after getting a good night's sleep? You briefly doze off again only waking as the smell of burnt toast convinces your brain that either a fire has started, or you were having a stroke.

“Tryna burn this place down?” you mumble, relaxing back into the couch cushions as you watch Steve scrape the burnt bits off into the garbage before buttering it and taking a bite.

“You think you got enough sleep to not kill my partner this morning?” he asks between mouthfuls.

“No, but I did get enough to realize if I killed him in the field there'd be witnesses” you remark pouring coffee into a cracked mug. “Thank you for letting me sleep here “

“Anytime, though Javi should be the one thanking me considering I basically saved his life. Lucky were leaving today or I’d have to put him into protective custody.”

“And I'll never have to hear him ever again” you say suddenly feeling a bit better. You were glad for Steve being so accommodating to your needs, especially considering he didn't really know you that well. “Well I should go get ready for the day ahead what it's supposed to be out?”

“A balmy 40” Steve offers, as he washes your cup up in the sink.

“Wow I should have packed my snow pants when I moved down here.” you dead pan, the delivery causing Steve to snort as you exit the room. As you exit, Javier opens his door kissing the woman he’d spent the night with one last time watching as she strides off down the hallway. You don’t see him, but he sees you. Specifically, he sees you leaving his partner's room, and in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, he raised his eyebrows. Good for Steve from what he’d heard half the department had been trying to get your attention to no avail. Your head was always buried in paperwork and your ears were always donning headphones blocking out small talk, maybe he should take a page from your book. He didn’t say anything to Steve in the field, but he did watch you interact with one another. Paying specific attention to how you'd made Steve laugh while photographing the murder weapon. Javi watched as you meticulously gathered up a few finger bones that he'd overheard you saying would be used for DNA fingerprinting. He'd tried to talk to you a few times this trip, but the second he'd stepped in your direction he noticed your jaw clench and your body tense up, not wanting to upset you he decided it was best to back off. After getting what you need you packed up your things and headed back home, with no intentions of ever having to interact with Peña for more than 5 minutes ever again.

Several months later

Your lab was now contracted out full time by the DEA which meant you still got to do research but you didn’t have to teach any teenagers which was quite frankly a dream. Unfortunately, the contract meant you'd now be spending time in two male-dominated fields. The boys club offered little that would qualify as genuine friendship. Turns out the ones brave enough to approach you were only nice to you because they wanted to sleep with you. Something you’d found out after overhearing a less than true story about you from one of the guy’s you’d hooked up with. After that you’d stopped sleeping where you work and started looking elsewhere. Your few short lived romances were mainly found in dive bars only going home with people that had been thoroughly vetted (and vaguely threatened) by yourself, Connie and Steve. Who was now a relatively permanent fixture in your life after finally asking Connie out, and you really didn’t mind it. He was good to Connie and he never minded being excluded when you needed a girls' night without him. You also assumed the decrease in misogynistic talk amongst the agents was Steves doing, you made a mental note to thank him later, as you took another swig of the beer you’d been nursing for the past hour.

Steve was still inseparable from Peña and where he went Javi was sure to follow. Your inability to not become enraged by him meant you often found yourself leaving the room as soon as he showed up, subsequently cutting your Connie time in half. Devastating both you and her.

“You know he’s not really as insufferable as he acts” Connie states, Javi was due to show up any minute which meant it was just about time for you to leave.

“ You're not gonna sell me on this” you say, chewing on a stale nacho chip from food you’d ordered hours ago.

“Seriously, he's almost nice sometimes” your pointed look tells her to drop it. Connie was nothing if not resilient and you were constantly amazed by her. You don’t know how she worked as a nurse. You had a hard enough time with the dead, how she also dealt with the living as well was beyond you. She was a quantifiable saint which was probably why she saw the good in Peña.

“Remind me to never make you mad” Steve says.

“No one holds a grudge quite like her” Connie exclaims

“Awe you say the sweetest things about me” you retort after finishing the last of your beer.

“Alright well I’ve got an early morning shift so we should be heading out, tell Javi I say hi” Connie says kissing Steve before the two of you exit the bar.

“Are you really going to keep up this affront against Javi?” Connie asks, interlinking your arms together as you exit the bar.

“Yes, now please and can we stop talking about Peña even thinking about him gets me riled up”

“I thought you said you hated him” she teases causing you to roll your eyes.

“Please don't make me gag” you say pulling a face that causes you both to break into a giggle fit.

“What up her ass? Seriously, am I infectious or something?” Javi asks, slumping down across from Steve who's filling out paperwork at his desk.

“Well considering your history, probability is pretty high” Steve quips back earning him a thwack to the head with a folder you’d dropped on Peña’s desk earlier that morning.

“You know her, what's her deal, why does she hate me?”

“Everyone hates you Javi, it’s a fundamental part of your personality” Steve laughs.

Javier usually wasn’t one to concern himself with how others perceived him, but his work frequently overligned with yours and he figured his life would be made infinitely easier if he could get into your good books. Sure, at first his intrigue in getting to know you was purely physical. He knew looks aren't everything, but for what he wanted, they played a fundamental part. He wasn’t the only person to have noticed you the day you showed up, all eyes were on you as you walked through the DEA embassy for the first time. Your arrival had sparked a competitive energy amongst the men with the agents often vying over who got the honour of dropping off case files to you. A few were apparently even so lucky to have actually spent the night, at least that's what he’d overheard some agents proclaiming loudly, making him doubt their validity.

He’d cracked down on what some would call “locker room talk” when he thought you and Steve were sleeping together, after seeing you leave his room early that one morning. Though if Steve had been spending nights with you he’d never brought it up to Javi, and after he started dating Connie there never seemed a right time to ask about you, so he let it go. He’d gotten more proactive with stopping it once you’d been hired on full time. He’d upped his guard when he’d caught one trying to cop a feel of your ass the day you had been called in on your day off. You’d come in wearing a skirt shorter than what would be considered workplace appropriate gaining you more attention than usual. He noticed the guys hand drop down low, but any contact was stopped when Javi smashed the guys arm back into the wall behind him. In most cases a move like that would have earned him a swift punch to the face but a simple raise of his eyebrows was enough to get the pervert to sit back down.

Despite the scene playing out a few feet from you, you never noticed carrying on about your day as if nothing had happened, headphones on, paperwork in your arms and various scrawlings across your hand, reminders of meetings he knew you'd be late to anyways. He assumes your chronic lateness was a tactic to spend as little time around him as possible. Your hatred for him was palpable, he wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. He'd noticed how you would stand in meetings when the only seat available was next to him. It was starting to get to his ego. He wanted to know what he possibly could have done to be treated like the scum of the earth by you. He’d heard from Connie that you didn’t like cops, but you got on fine with Steve. Your lives continued on with minimal interaction until the day you were called into the head of the DEA’s office.

“Office now!” your boss shouts from the door. Fuck. What have you done now?

“Hey you need something?” you ask, lips parted and forehead wrinkled, feeling like a child who’d just been called to the principal's office. Your head snaps to the left when you feel eyes boring into you, eyes belonging to Peña. He shifts around in the chair to escape your violent gaze. You turn to Steve who's gazing up at the ceiling.

“I have the dental results here for the missing persons from the case last week, it’s a match, I know it's late but...”

“It's not that,” he gestures his hand to the chair beside Peña and you sit, placing the documents down on the table. Javi cranes his neck slightly, eyes darting over the various statistics strewn across the page surprised you were able to piece it all together.

“You have an art degree right?”

“I have an art certificate” you correct

“and you paint”

“A bit”

“She was featured in local galleries back in the States” Steve pipes up.

“ Good, we need you to go undercover” you snort before laughing aloud. Your amusement quickly fades when you realize no one else was laughing with you.

“Wait you're serious? You want me... to go undercover? I'm not an agent, I can’t use a gun, I don’t think I've even held one before” you say, tearing through all the excuses you could think of.

“You can shoot a bow and arrow,” Steve pipes up.

“Ya very different instrument Steve, also does Connie tell you everything about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You won’t need a gun anyways, you'll have a trained agent with you at all times.” Your boss reassures.

“No. No way! Im sorry but this… this is beyond the scope of my work and my skill set” you assert, not budging.

“You’ve been to crime scenes before, you’ve been in dangerous scenarios, excavated mass graves, we need you you’re the only one who can help with this”

“Why? You have multiple agents out there who would kill to go undercover, why me?” you push

“ Your background, and relative anonymity. There's been an increase in art dealing amongst the sicarios.”

“So what? Maybe they just really like art.” you offer

“Does anyone really like art” Peña pipes up

“ Yes, the whole world actually” you shoot back, successfully shutting him up.

“We think they're using convincing fakes to smuggle drugs without suspicion” Steve offered, helping to clear up the situation.

“Okay... then hire an art expert to go in and see if the paintings are real”

“We need you to test for residue on the paintings, and to recreate one in time for the next move”

“Okay im good, but I am not good enough to recreate a painting worth thousands of dollars.”

“From what I’ve seen you are,” Steve says further cementing your fate.

“What if I say no?” you ask, exhaling deeply.

“Then you're fired” Javier pipes up, once again causing your head to turn to him.

“And who, pray tell, made you judge, jury and executioner” you spit “last time I check Javier Peña wasn’t the one signing my paychecks”

“No, but I am, and you will do this” Your boss's backing of Peñas statement makes the smirk on his face even more aggravating.

“Fine, but just know I will be personally mentioning you all in my will so everyone knows exactly who got me killed, and I'm gonna want a raise, more vacation time and a new piece of lab equipment if I make it out alive. ”

“Fine” you smile feeling slightly vindicated.

“So what's my story? Who am I to have a million dollar painting in my possession?” you ask, as your boss pulls up a document on his computer.

“You’ll go by Melanie Alverez nee Smith, you were born in London England to parents Maria and Calvin who passed in a car accident four weeks after your nineteenth birthday”

“Shit” you mutter, thinking about your own parents who were very much alive.

“You dropped out of Oxford where you were undertaking a degree in chemistry and moved to New York where you began painting. You were a struggling artist for the first two years but received funding to attend Julliard. After graduation your first major piece was accepted by a local gallery and put up for auction. It sold for 10,000$. The buyer wanted to meet you after seeing your photo. He’d sent thousands of flowers to your gallery before showing up and asking you on a date.

“Must be nice” you murmur

“After a whirlwind romance you eloped and moved down to Columbia where you continue to work as an artist.”

“Alright easy enough, short live romance is a good call that can be used to explain why we don’t know certain information about each other.”

“You'll be staying here” A huge spanish style house appears on the screen. Its prestige was only overshadowed by the mansion looming over it from across the private beach. Must be the target's house, you think.

“It was built by the target, he lives there with his fourth wife. He’s rich, sources claims from drug smuggling, they think he may even have direct links to Escobar

“Like, as in Pablo?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Apparently he’s his art dealer. We need you to go in and see what he knows, if it's not enough then test the paintings in their homes”

“And if they trace?”

“You'll give them the fake implemented with a tracking device so we can target its route.”

“Okay well I'd say easy enough but the threat of being murdered isn’t lost on me. Who's my husband anyways? Obviously he’s rich but did he tragically fall down the stairs and die, did I kill him?” you ask, smiling as Steve laughs.

“What?” you say looking up

“What...” you say as Steve refuses to meet your eyes as he chokes on his laugh.

“Well you haven’t killed him yet but I give it a week.” He responds.

“Who's my husband” you ask, again suddenly afraid and very aware that there were two men in this room, and one was currently laughing at you.

“Your lucky day sweetheart.” Your head turns comically slow to face Javi, the effect only causes Steve to snicker more.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you whisper.

“This mission is anything, but a joke.” your boss interjects “If we can trace the arts movement it brings us one step closer to catching Escobar. I don’t know why there's animosity between you two and frankly I do not care. You two must work together. If you are to succeed you have to be believable. Study up on each others aliases the target hasn’t made it this far without being killed by being stupid. We’ve tried to get to him before with no success, he will be on high alert. You two will have to convince him, and his wife, that you’re sincere.”

#javi x reader #javi x you #javi x y/n #Peña x reader #Peña x you #javier pena x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos fanfic #agent peña x reader #agent Peña x you #not a piece of art #part 1

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btsmosphere · 3 years

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Blessing and a Curse | PJM

~summary: You are the unlukiest person you know. Park Jimin seems to be the exception to the rule. But when strange dreams start haunting you, Jimin begins to piece together the events that have followed you your whole life...

~word count: 12.7k (anyone know if this is too long for a oneshot haha)

~college!au, magic!au, fluff, angst

~Warnings: nightmares, house fire, knife injury and blood, mentioned homophobia/biphobia, swearing

~a/n: happy (almost) halloween! welcome to my new oneshot, I really hope you enjoy it! -if you’re worried about the warnings, all except the nightmares happen near the end and are probably skippable, but if you might be triggered then please be on the safe side and save this for later 💜this story isn’t primarily about those things, it’s about jimin and yn being cute hehe

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

She is: you can see it in the way her mouth moves, but she is articulating without sound.

Your ears are plugged with water, you can hear it in the way it rumbles. Maybe that same water is what is drowning out everything else, blurring the edges of this scene. Yes, the room is dark, but surely something is in the shadows.

Why would she be here alone?

There is a fire: of that you are sure. Nothing else would light the lady’s face in a scarlet glow, deepening her wrinkles until they seem carved of wood. Only her continued movement shatters this illusion.

In the glimmering light, her eyebrows sink in the middle, fixing you with a stare.

She is approaching.

Her eyes are all you can see, a flame visible within them and they rush to you. The heat of fire is no longer merely imagined. No, you feel it crawling over you as you watch her mouth move without sound.

It can’t be water around you, because you can’t move. Fire can’t survive in water. But here it is, pinning you down, smothering you.

Maybe you are dying.

She is talking.

The woman with age-worn skin is looking at you. Only one face is visible in the darkness of the room.

The room was still dark. Something was different, you thought vaguely as you blinked.

And then suddenly, everything was different.

No face is visible.

You can hear: you cough, and the sound of it reaching your ears startles you. No water, then.

More evidence of this is the fact you can see, even in the dark, the glow that fights its way around your curtain from the street lamp outside illuminating your bedroom. You can move.

You certainly aren’t dying.

That’s a relief.

Morning comes, the streetlamp has turned off and you pay no mind to the dream hovering just out of your memory’s reach. Plenty like that have come before, and plenty will follow.

Anyway, it’s just a dream.

Now, you are more preoccupied with checking and double checking your bag. Your laptop, notebooks and folders are in there. First aid kit, check. Pencil case, check. Five memory sticks, check.

On your way to campus, you dodged a ladder leaning against a house and walked right into the path of a van splashing muddy water up your jeans. Sighing, you pulled out some tissues to dry it off as best you could, backing into a wall to get out of the splash zone again.

Of course, you backed into a pile of dog poo.

Scowling, you scraped the bottom of your shoe furiously against the pavement and hurried on.

Today was one of the rare occasions when Yoongi had arrived before you. On any normal Monday morning, he would slink in after about half an hour into class, but there he sat in the entrance hall, looking blearily round at you and licking his lips as he set his coffee down.

However, your attention was drawn away by the boy sitting with him.

Park Jimin.

As you slid into the third seat at the table, you widened your eyes at Yoongi, hoping to convey your panic.

“Hey, I was just going to grab a coffee, would you like one?” Jimin smiled at you, standing.

You swallowed, quickly turning back to him.

“Oh-um, er, no, I- it’s okay. Thank you.”

“Okay,” he smiled sweetly again and walked across to the little bar across the space.

“God, just let him buy you a coffee,” Yoongi groaned, “or do you really expect anything to happen if you never say yes?”

“They always give me shit coffee here,” you sighed, glancing back at Jimin waiting in the queue.

“You say that about everywhere,” Yoongi said. He let his head fall into his hand so it covered half his face.

“That’s because it’s true!” you protested, but he had heard it before. “What are you doing here anyway? You look half asleep.”

“Jimin dragged me,” he mumbled into his palm.

“Woe is you,” you laughed, slumping back on your seat and swinging your feet. You had given up tipping your chair long ago.

When Jimin came back, it was only to scoop up his bag before heading off to his class. That was the most you ever seemed to talk to him, as much as you would like to get to know him more. Being flatmates with your closest friend in your department saw him at plenty of the same parties, but you were too scared to approach him.

Something would go wrong.

With you, it always did. Yoongi said you were just a pessimist, which held a lot of weight coming from him.

Class went smoothly. A pen had leaked in your pencil case, and promptly ran out of ink when you tried to use it, but other than that, you came out unscathed.

It wasn’t until that afternoon that the wind picked up.

After a long day of classes, you parted ways with Yoongi to go to the library, while he left for basketball practise. Tugging your scarf tighter around you, you fought against the weather on the short walk between buildings.

On reaching your refuge, you tiptoed through the rows of books to the study area. Luckily, one last spot was left by the window, where you could see the grey clouds rolling by, the odd leaf whisking past and the branches tugged by the wind.

Smile spreading over your face, you marched towards it, setting your things down. But the moment you sat, the chair’s back leg buckled, a snap resounding through the silent space and drawing glares from the other students.

Mentally cursing, you pulled yourself up and settled for the most hidden table you could find. Sure, you could handle the dust and the flickering light in this corner.

To be fair, you did get a good amount of studying done, satisfied by the time you pulled on your scarf again and set off home.

The few trees dotted around campus creaked in the gale when you passed them. Head down against the wind, you pressed on, not looking up until you heard a familiar voice. What they were saying wasn’t quite audible, but you would recognise it anywhere. Maybe your little crush was getting a little out of hand.

Looking around, you saw Jimin with a couple of friends coming out of the gym across the courtyard.

Okay, he hadn’t seen you yet. Maybe he wasn’t coming this way?

No such luck.

Their voices drew closer, so you picked up the pace, digging your face deeper into the wool around your neck. Park Jimin was behind you, no big deal. Just don’t embarrass yourself.

But the moment you took a deep breath, a scraping sound came from above you. Frowning, you looked up distractedly. There it came again, a gravelly noise somewhere overhead. This time, though, it didn’t stop, only growing louder, and there-!

A shape, sliding off the roof, right over your head. In the blink of an eye, you scrambled to move, but your feet were caught and you tripped, inelegantly face-planting the ground as a smashing sound deafened you.

A stinging pain flared in your calf.

“Oh my god! Y/N?”

From your front-seat view of the floor, you groaned, taking a moment to close your eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Inhaling, you finally pushed yourself up to sit just as Jimin rushed up to you, his two friends close behind. Forcing a grimace, you tried to ignore your burning face as he knelt down, discarding his bag.

There, right beside your leg, lay a cracked roof tile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bending your leg to get a closer look. The source of the pain showed itself; your jeans were torn, a deep graze on your skin underneath where the tile must have caught you.

Beside you, Jimin’s hands hovered, twitching as he debated what to do. He watched as you twisted your ankle experimentally and winced.

“You should go to the doctor,” he told you. He was right, too. At least there was one on campus that you could hopefully reach on an injured leg-

“I’ll take you, come on,” he pushed his bag into his friend’s arms and threw yours over his own shoulder. Before you could utter a word, his shoulder was under your arm, helping you stand.

“Thank you,” you spluttered, “I-I think it should be fine though-“

Right on cue, you stood on you bad foot, which instantly gave way as you choked back a cry.

“It’s just twisted!” you exclaimed, though your full weight was pretty much weighing down on Jimin.

“Best to get it checked,” one of his friends chimed in, clapping you on the shoulder as he set off walking in the direction of the health centre.

Sighing, you gave in and allowed Jimin to help as you hobbled next to him.

“That’s Hoseok,” he said, smiling again, “and that’s Tae.”

Holding up a hand, Tae bobbed his head at you with a grin.

“Hi,” you panted.

It was likely that your attempt to return a smile failed, with the bugging pain in your ankle. Either way, Tae had turned back around now, walking beside Hoseok just ahead of you two. Before long, you had resorted to hopping. It wasn’t efficient.

“Would it be better…” Jimin said, “I mean, I could- I think I should carry you.”

Managing a weak smile, you slowed beside him. Maybe you didn’t have to go far, but it felt like a marathon at the moment.

Eyes creasing in his own smile, Jimin gently let go of your arm and stepped in front of you, crouching to let you put your arms around his neck. Surely he would be able to feel your heart hammering at your ribs, pressed up against his back like this?

If he did, he didn’t let on.

Sliding his arms behind your knees, he scooped you up and you were off at a much more reasonable speed this time.

“Tae!” he yelled.

When the black-haired boy turned around, Jimin tossed him your bag.

By some miracle, you heart had chilled out by the time you entered the doctor’s reception. Maybe a short trip on someone’s back had healing effects in itself.

You were handed an ice pack and some paperwork and told to wait. Taehyung and Hoseok said they would leave you to it, but Jimin assured you he could stay. And who were you to turn him down? This wasn’t coffee.

The silence was companiable as you sat side by side, Jimin sitting forward, elbows on his thighs while you put your feet up on a chair he had dragged over. He didn’t speak until you had nearly finished writing.

“Maybe you could sue the college,” he joked, gently nudging you with his elbow.

Laughing, you signed off the last box quickly before setting the form down and giving him your full attention.

“Thanks for staying, you didn’t have to,” you squeezed out a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, “I’m just glad you’re not more hurt. It was crazy, what happened.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time that’s happened to me,” you admitted. A small laugh brushed by your lips.

At your words, Jimin turned to you fully, bringing his chin off his hands. For a moment he only stared with his eyebrows raised, smile faltering, unsure if you were kidding.

“You’re being serious?”

You grimaced.

“A roof tile fell on you? More than once?”

“What are the chances, right?” you sighed, “But yeah. I’m definitely the most accident-prone person I know.”

“At least you managed to get out of the way… I thought it was going to hit your head or something,” Jimin looked genuinely terrified. You were sure your heart melted as he said this with his big eyes and such sincerity.

“If by getting out of the way you mean falling on my face,” you smiled softly.

Thankfully, he saw the funny side and laughed along with you, shaking his head and sitting back. You were glad the worry had left his face.

Only one other person sat in the waiting room, a mother holding a small baby, who now turned around to glare at the pair of you, although were only laughing quietly. Either way, you both closed your mouths, noticing her child was asleep.

A screaming baby was not something you wanted to add to this situation.

“So… what do you study?” you muttered after the woman turned back around in her chair.

“Protective magic,” Jimin dazzled you again with his smile, “it’s my second year now.”

“Same,” you replied, “well, as in, I’m in second year too, but I’m not gifted. I’m doing literature.”

“With Yoongi, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course you knew that,” you laughed, but you were cringing inside. Time to change topic. “But, umm, what’s your favourite part of your course?”

Magic was definitely fascinating to you, even though you weren’t gifted with powers and therefore were unable to study it. Less than half the population had magic, so it was just your luck to be in the boring majority.

“I’m enjoying studying curses,” Jimin was saying, “last year was mainly the basics, warding and stuff like that, so it’s nice to do something more interesting.”

“It sounds really cool,” you agreed, “I’m so jealous, I didn’t get any of my first-choice modules.”

Just as Jimin opened his mouth to respond, a doctor called your name.

“Ah,” Jimin stood, raising his hand to alert the doctor you were there as you struggled to your feet. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“If that’s okay?”

Gladly accepting his arm for the second time that day, you let Jimin help you over to the doctor and followed her down the hallway to her office. As she checked you over, Jimin sat patiently behind you. Your frequent glances at him were definitely less surreptitious than you intended, but he didn’t seem to mind, smiling reassuringly when you caught his eye.

In the end, she bandaged up the graze and ordered you to avoid using your ankle as much as you could for a couple of days. You had just avoided spraining it, so it would be fine.

“How are you getting home?” she asked you, not looking at you as she typed up her notes.

“Oh, uh-“ you stuttered. You hadn’t thought of that. Walking all the way home would be too far when you could barely make the walk from the waiting room.

“-I’m driving her,” Jimin spoke.

Snapping your mouth shut, you stared round at him.

“Excellent,” the doctor smiled before you could say anything. She spun back to you in her chair, “that should be all. Remember to rest it, I’m sure your friend will help you out.”

Quietly smiling and thanking her, you hobbled out beside Jimin. Outside the door, he lifted you onto his back again for the short walk to the parking lot.

By car, your house was barely ten minutes away, but you chatted some more to Jimin. As he reached your street and you pointed out where he could stop, you were startled by how fast it seemed. You found yourself not wanting him to leave.

Who knew that completely embarrassing yourself in front of your crush could end up to be a good thing?

To your delight, he insisted on piggy-backing you up the stairs as well, somehow not even breaking a sweat, and waited with you at the door as you slid the key in.

“KOOK!” you yelled as you pushed the door open, but to your surprise, he had already left his room and was walking down the hall towards you.

On seeing Jimin next to you, arm around your waist, he stopped abruptly and his eyes widened. But then his eyes travelled down to your leg, bandage poking from the bottom of your jeans, and he relaxed.

“This is Jimin,” you offered, hopping over the threshold as Kook approached again, quick to slide his arm around your other side.

“Hi,” he nodded at Jimin, “thanks.”

Jimin, who let you go as it became clear Kook could take it from here, handed over your bag as well.

“Good to meet you,” he beamed, “see you, Y/N.”

From your position propped up against your roommate, you waved at him. Too soon he was gone, door falling shut behind him.

“is that the Jimin?” Jungkook stage-whispered.

“Yes…” you sighed, hiding your face in his shoulder and ignoring his excited eyes.

“Come on,” you felt the rumble of his laughter through you as he pushed you off him and pulled you down the corridor, “Jin-hyung! Y/N hurt herself again!”

“Kook…” you grumbled in vain.

The moment he dropped you ungracefully onto the sofa, Jin hurried in, already clutching a first aid bag. Seeing his concerned face, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s okay, I already went to the doctor.”

“Aish,” he moaned, “how do you manage to get hurt so much?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you whined, “really.”

You met his eyes as he ditched the medical kit by the sofa. Sighing, he gave you a smile which you returned. You knew he worried too much.

“She was probably distracted,” Jungkook piped up from behind the kitchen counter which divided your space. The warning look you shot him wasn’t enough to quiet him though, you could see the mischievous grin on his face.

“Jeon Jungkook-” you hissed.

“-making doe-eyes at Jim- ow!”

“Y/N!” Jin cried, snatching you and Jungkook’s attention, “give me that.”

Marching across the space, he scooped up the book you had launched at the younger boy and tucked it under his arm. Then a smile slid onto his face, letting the two of you relax. He wasn’t really mad.

“So Jimin?” he grinned.

Shoving a cushion over your face, you groaned, Jin’s laughter loud in your ears.

Yoongi offered to drive you into college before you had even told him you were injured. Jimin must have told him what happened when he got home.

What you didn’t expect was to see your saviour again this early in the morning. You looked a mess in all honesty, hair messy and most lazy clothes shoved on to accommodate your bandaged leg. Sleep hadn’t been on your side last night, and the dream had come again, but until now you didn’t care.

Now, as Jimin gave up shotgun for you with a radiant smile, you regretted your lie in.

“Are you definitely okay to walk?” he eyed you worriedly as you limped over to them.

After the inevitable teasing last night, Jin and Jungkook had cooked for you and let you pick a film so you could keep you leg up with ice. As a result it did feel much better, and you told him as much.

“I’m glad,” Jimin smiled.

You were too busy smiling back to catch Yoongi rolling his eyes.

The room was dark… the old woman was looking at you…

As the fire danced and flickered below her, she spoke to you, but you were still deaf to her words.

Come to think of it, she looked like she was shouting.

Had you upset her?

A hand entered your vision, the woman’s hand, gnarled with age and dappled with firelight.

She was reaching out…

No.

She was pointing at you.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Your whole body jolted as a foot hit your leg. It took a moment for the pain to even register as you blinked, head falling off the hand it rested on.

As you looked up, opening your mouth to complain, your eyes met with Yoongi’s. He had a strange expression on his face.

Frowning, you looked around. The lecture was still going on.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “didn’t sleep well.”

Turning away from Yoongi, you found a group of boys behind you quickly tearing their eyes away. Their snickering whispers followed you even when you turned your back on them. But though you hunched over your work, fully intent on achieving tunnel-vision to your notebook, Yoongi didn’t share your intention.

“Hey,” he murmured, digging his knee into your leg until you acknowledged him. You were greeted with the same piercing stare from before. “You okay?”

Shoulders slumping, you sighed.

“Yeah…”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks Yoongi,” you rolled your eyes at his bluntness, “just tired-“

“You were dreaming,” he informed you.

You blinked.

“Sorry?”

“You were kind of… twitching,” he grimaced, “that’s why they were laughing at you. Was it a nightmare?”

Blankly staring back at him, you tried to recall your dream. Once you were awake, it always left your mind like sand through a sieve, but when you thought about it…

“It’s just a dream I keep having,” you shook your head, “it’s why I couldn’t get much sleep last night.”

His eyebrows creased, but the sudden commotion that rumbled into life around you told you class was over. And you had missed most of it. Just your luck.

Sluggishly, you packed your things away. Just as you slung your bag over one shoulder, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Slipping it out as you pushed your chair in with your thigh, you saw two messages from Yoongi.

Pictures of his lecture notes.

Fondly smiling, you looked to your friend as he shut his book and slid his own things into his bag.

As usual, Yoongi walked with you after classes were done. Except today, when you parted ways, he made you promise to meet him in time to drive home. Usually you would spend longer in the library, but you could easily check out something to work on at home.

Yoongi’s earlier lecture notes mentioned some extra reading, so you decided to go and find the books to make up for being unconscious during the class itself.

Heading towards the classics section once you were inside, you heard Jimin before you saw him.

A loud thump made you wince, evidently the sound of a fallen book. Unable to help your curiosity, you leaned around the corner to the aisle it came from.

There, Jimin’s blond hair was just visible over a mound of books balanced in his arms, some tucked under his elbows, and a couple more trapped between his hip and the bookshelves.

“Jimin?”

You were already striding towards him, hurriedly grabbing for the books in the most precarious position.

“Thank you,” a muffled voice reached your ears as Jimin was finally able to step away from the shelf without fear of dropping any more.

“Um… what are you doing?” you asked incredulously as you hastily shoved the books onto a shelf, soon reaching out to start dismantling the pile in his arms.

“I had spare credits,” he spoke as you removed the books that blocked out his face, “so I’ve ended up taking Mythology of Magic. I thought I should do some reading…”

Laughing, you turned over the book in your hand. Woozle the Warlock and other stories.

“And you didn’t want to be any more selective?”

As you tugged the books from under his arm, Jimin looked down at his shuffling feet.

“I’ve never had to read fiction for my course, so I don’t really know where to start.”

“Well, I took that module last year,” you smiled, “trust me, there are a few books Professor Bang really relies on, but other than that there aren’t too many you should know.”

“Really?”

Jimin’s eyes were so hopeful. His smile had returned, and you were happy you could give him a positive answer.

“Would you like me to help you?” you ventured.

His enthusiastic nod made your heart leap.

“Right, well-“ you turned to the shelves to scan for the books you needed, absently pushing a couple more books onto a random shelf. Jimin followed suit, now having his hands free enough to make use of them.

“Jimin?”

The book you had just laid eyes on was lost as you jumped around, finding one of the librarians at the end of the shelves.

“Joon! Y/N’s gonna help me with Mythology!” Jimin greeted the man enthusiastically, but his eagerness was not returned.

“What’s going on?” the man called Joon asked.

Guiltily glancing at the shelves Jimin had pillaged, it became clear they were nowhere near orderly anymore.

“Jimin, this is going to take me ages, you know I have a date tonight!” Joon was busy complaining.

“Sorry Joon,” Jimin sighed, “do you want me to sort it?”

“Please. I’ll come and check you’re doing it right in a while,” Joon agreed, “Y/N will just have to help you later.”

“Sorry,” you piped up, looking at Jimin, “Yoongi’s giving me a lift home.”

“Then you can come to ours!” Joon startled you by clapping his hands together. He looked thrilled, but you were still confused.

“Ah, sorry Y/N,” Jimin said, “this is Namjoon. He lives with me and Yoongi.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you,” you said.

“You too,” Namjoon smiled, “I best get back to work.”

Before he left, he sent a dimpled smirk over to Jimin.

“Do you want some help?” you asked Jimin, the two of you staring at the mess of books, a couple still lying on the floor.

“No, please go and sit down,” he told you, “the doctor told you to rest.”

He was right, so you gave in.

Later on, you glanced at the clock. You didn’t want to be late for Yoongi when he was being so nice to you. Fifteen minutes were left, luckily, so you turned back to your work.

Next time you checked, fifteen minutes were left.

Wait.

That was the same as last time!

Now you thought about it, it might have said the same time when you checked it before that too.

Oh no.

Scrambling for your phone, you saw you were already more than five minutes late. As quick as humanly possible, you rammed everything into your bag and fled. You still had to check out Jimin’s books, so you dashed across to the machines to take them out.

Toe tapping on the ground, you waited behind the guy already using the last monitor, praying Yoongi wouldn’t be mad. You decided to send him a quick text.

You: On my way, sorry :)

Yoongi: Be quick

Just then, the man in front of you turned around, setting off briskly away from the station with coffee in hand. There was only one problem. You were in the way.

He crashed into you before you had even looked up, and warm liquid was already seeping through your top.

In your shock, your phone fell from your hand, straight into the puddle of coffee on the floor. Both of you just stood there for a second, mouths agape.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you garbled, at the same moment as he pushed past you, muttering something about standing in the way. Perfect.

Looking down at the bundle of books in your arms, it was clear they were ruined. Coffee was dripping off them, the edges of the pages already brown. Taking a breath, you bent down to retrieve your phone, not bothering to check it just yet. You had to get to Yoongi first.

In the end, you checked the books out anyway, knowing you might be able to tell your tragic tale to your new acquaintance Namjoon, thinking perhaps he could get you out of a fine.

Stepping outside, you were soon greeted with Jimin coming around the corner.

“Y/N! Yoongi sent me to go and fetch you- what happened?” he had stopped in his tracks. You didn’t have to be a genius to know your top was ruined, coffee clinging uncomfortably to your skin from the saturated fabric.

“Some guy spilled coffee on me,” you explained, carrying on towards the parking lot, “and my phone, and the books…”

Looking to the side to check he was following, you jumped. Jimin’s head had disappeared into his sweater as he pulled it over his head, shirt riding up as he did so. When he emerged you snapped your head away.

You tried to reject the hoodie as he held it out to you, knowing you would soak it through with coffee as well, but he insisted. It was black after all, it wouldn’t show up, and people were staring at you. Since you usually left campus later, it was busier than you were accustomed to.

Eventually taking the proffered jumper, you basked in its softness, thanking him with a smile.

Since you went home to study with Jimin, Jungkook and Jin had been insufferable, knowing about your crush. You told them they were lucky you loved them already, or you would kick them out.

Not if they kicked you out first, they said.

You laughed and told them you could just move in with Jimin. Needless to say, that made it worse.

In all fairness, you spent a lot of time with Jimin now. You regretted being too scared to ever talk to him before, since you actually got on really well. Helping him study had been fun, and you had been over more times since then, for studying but also for dinner and movie nights that Namjoon and Yoongi loved to crash.

You discovered all of them wanted to go to the Halloween festival, just like you.

October was halfway done, and that meant the excitement was well and truly underway. Every year on the weekend of Halloween, there was a festival just outside the city with music, haunted houses, campfires and ghost stories. And, of course, plenty of beer. Everyone wanted to go.

That week, you sat down with your own flatmates to put your names in for the festival. Due to its popularity among students, the festival always picked its attendees at random.

Since things were going well with Jimin, you had shed your pessimistic mindset a little. Maybe things didn’t always go wrong when you were around.

But then you didn’t get tickets.

And of course, Jungkook and Jin did.

You were more disappointed than you were when the same thing happened last year. For once, you had actually had your hopes up.

At least they were as sad about it as you. And it meant they went out on a dedicated shopping trip to get you a load of candy; it made both parties feel a bit better about you being left alone at the weekend.

When you had last spoken to Jimin about the festival, you found out he had gone last year. The next time you saw him after the bad news came at the weekend, you walked into uni to find him alone at the table you usually shared with Yoongi.

“Hey,” he smiled, “Yoongi’s just getting coffee.”

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. You were quite happy to have Jimin to yourself for the moment.

It was only when Yoongi came back with two coffees that you sensed something was up. He never bought coffee for other people. Eyebrows furrowed, you watched as he set one down in front of Jimin.

Eager to take a sip, neither boy noticed you staring at them with something akin to horror until they rose from the rims of their cups.

“What’s going on?” you demanded when you caught Jimin’s eye.

“Sympathy coffee,” Jimin chuckled, “I didn’t get Halloween tickets.”

“Oh no, that sucks,” you sighed, “I didn’t either.”

“Hey, that could be good!” Jimin placed his drink down, “we could do something on Halloween instead?”

“Okay!” you agreed, “movies or something?”

“Great, let’s do it,” Jimin grinned, “beats sitting inside getting jealous of Joon and Yoongi.”

And so it was agreed, and you found yourself walking over to Jimin’s house on Halloween. Any other Saturday night, the city’s streets would be thrumming with life, groups of students holding each other up as they stumbled out, already drunk.

Today, though, it seemed like the entire student population was on the other side of town except you.

Mind wandering to your friends, you wondered how the festival was. Next year was your final chance to go. You hoped you could. They would probably be trekking through the horror maze, before dark so Jin wouldn’t get too scared. Or maybe Jungkook had got out his guitar for the campfire circle. You wondered what kinds of sugary food they would fill themselves with.

It was a nice evening for whatever was going on, being unusually warm for this time of year. You hadn’t even needed a coat to go out.

Jin’s cooking was sorely missed especially; you were something of a disaster on your own given your clumsiness. You swore you did exactly what the recipe said, but every time without fail, something went wrong.

Reaching Jimin’s, you happily let thoughts of what you were missing slide. Your bad luck had afforded you good fortune this time around, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Inside, you emptied all the snacks you had brought out of your bag and stared at the mountain you had collectively built on the coffee table.

“I guess we had better get started,” you laughed.

“We’re never going to eat all that!” Jimin laughed, flopping down on the sofa.

Sitting as well, you picked up your first chocolate and sent him a smirk.

“Challenge accepted.”

As anyone could have predicted, you failed the challenge. Before the first film had even ended, you slumped against Jimin with a groan, stomach threatening to burst. His melodic laugh filled your ears. You only groaned more, staring at the empty wrappers surrounding you before closing your eyes.

What you didn’t expect was for Jimin to reach his arm around you.

Eyes snapping open again, you saw his hands pulling your blanket up, but his arm didn’t move away. Well, perhaps your optimistic eating habits had landed you something good, after all.

The film ended, but you didn’t move away. Nor did he push you off.

“What next?” he looked down at you.

You found yourself a lot closer to his face than you were prepared for when you looked up at him, head pulling away from its place on his shoulder.

“Horror film?” you suggested with a small smile once you had recovered.

He threw his head back and laughed, but he did pick up the remote and start scrolling through the horror films.

“This should be fun,” he smiled, shaking his head slightly.

It was.

Well, maybe not the ghosts and blood and murderers and jumpscares.

But it sure was fun when Jimin clutched you in both of his arms, or when you pressed closer to him to hide your face away in his chest. When he screamed and grabbed at you, hiding his face away in the top of your head, you swore your heart stopped for a moment.

“We are not watching a horror film next time,” Jimin decreed afterwards, “or ever again!”

“Next Halloween?” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes.

“Maybe.”

Your grin wasn’t because he agreed with you. It was because he thought you would be with each other again next Halloween.

Reluctantly, the two of you untangled yourselves from the blankets. On your way out, you told him to keep the candy, and that you could never look at another one again.

“Sure,” he smirked, “text me when you get home okay.”

“Will do, thanks.”

After a beat, you stepped back through the doorway and gave him a quick hug. Wrapping his arms around you in return, he laughed.

“Don’t have nightmares!”

“No promises!” you laughed, waving at him as you walked away.

By this time it was dark, but your route back was along main roads, so you weren’t worried. However, you had barely reached the end of Jimin’s road before you felt flecks of drizzle dotting your face.

You picked up the pace, but there was still a while to go. You were never going to outrun the rain.

It wasn’t the first time you had been caught out by a storm, but it made it no more enjoyable. Halfway home, the rain was hammering down, stinging your cheeks with the force it fell. The sky above was a solid mass of cloud, regularly disturbed by thunder.

You were most certainly alone on the streets now, everyone having retreated inside. You just had to push on a little longer, and then you could have a hot shower and warm up in your pyjamas with a hot chocolate.

Cursing yourself for not bringing a coat earlier, you hugged yourself as you marched against the rain which was now dripping down your face, hair plastered to your cheeks.

On reaching your apartment, you broke into a run. Stopping outside the door, you fished for your keys in your pocket.

Nothing.

Chest tightening, you quickly pushed your hand into your other pocket. Your phone was still there, but no keys. Quickly, you patted your jeans to no success. Your bag was just as empty. Where were your keys?

Ever since the coffee incident in the library, your phone had never been quite the same, but you nearly cried in relief when you clicked the power button and it flashed on.

Leaning your head over to shield it from the worst of the rain, although you were also dripping onto it, your cold fingers fumbled to your contacts until you reached Jimin. No one else you knew was in the city.

Pressing call, you held the device to your ear, dial tone beeping over the drumming of the rain.

The tone cut off, and you waited to hear Jimin’s voice.

But it didn’t come.

“Hello?” you spoke.

No reply.

On pulling the phone from your ear, you stared at a dark screen. This time, when you pressed the power button, it was unresponsive.

Great.

Begrudgingly turning around, you sighed heavily. You fingers were already draining themselves of feeling, every inch of your jumper soaked.

But then, a couple of streets further, you spotted something glittering by the pavement. Your keyring!

Dashing towards it, you didn’t care when your fingers scraped against the cold metal of a drain, grabbing your keys as soon as you could. But when you held them up, you could only stare.

You were definitely the unluckiest person you knew.

The keyring charm itself was intact, but the same could not be said for the mangled metal that hung off it, which had been snapped. No key remained.

Looking back to the ground where you had collected it, you could only see dark tarmac. No key. And below the drain your keyring had been lying on was a torrent of rushing water from the storm.

You were well and truly fucked, only one option left.

Your third journey that night down the roads to Jimin’s was significantly less enjoyable than before. Even your shoes were soaked now and you were shivering from head to toe. It really wasn’t the way you wanted Jimin to see you, looking like a rat that had crawled up from the gutter, but you had nowhere else to go.

Finally reaching Jimin’s road, you were surprised to see his door fly open when you were still halfway down the street, spilling yellow light into the dark. You frowned even more when you saw him step out, wrapped in a raincoat, practically tripping down his own steps before looking around.

Closer now, you were able to catch his attention as you approached. He only stared at you, his adorable face the very picture of shock, before he ran up to you.

“Y/N oh my god! The moment this storm started I got worried, and when I saw a missed call from you I didn’t know what to do! What happened? Are you alright?”

“C-cold,” you said through chattering teeth.

“Shit, yeah, let’s get you back inside,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. If only you could feel where his hand held yours.

Just across the threshold, you held back, knowing you were already soaking the ground.

“Y/N, you’re freezing, please come in,” Jimin pulled you into the living room, not that you could resist when you felt the warmth of his house greet you.

Realising you hadn’t even removed your shoes, you bent to undo your waterlogged laces, but your fingers were uncooperative.

“Here,” Jimin knelt too. You watched as his fingers deftly released your laces, and you let him slide your shoes off. His face was flushed, slightly damp too from his short trip outside.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, sitting back and reaching for you jumper.

Together, you peeled the garment off you, heavy with water.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he said firmly, “you’re staying here.”

Beyond the window, the rain had not let up.

“Okay.”

Making quick work of the rest of your clothes in the bathroom, you left them in a pile on the shower floor. Jimin had luckily left a towel on the radiator. Wrapped up in the warm fluff, you barely wanted to move, but eventually Jimin’s clothes, folded on the floor, tempted you enough.

Emerging fully dressed in the too-big clothes, you found Jimin stumbling down the stairs. Or rather, a moving pile of blankets.

“Any better?” his eyes peeked over the top, making it impossible for you not to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Following him into the living room, you stepped over the wet patches you had created as Jimin dropped the blankets onto the sofa.

“So what happened?” he clambered into the makeshift nest, patting the blankets beside him for you to follow suit.

“My keys found their way down a storm drain,” you sighed, “but I didn’t notice until I got home. And then my phone gave up.”

You let out a dry laugh. It really was ridiculous how the world seemed to be against you.

“Would hot chocolate make it better?”

Your eyes and mouth grew simultaneously and Jimin laughed loudly, head flopping back and soft hair falling away from his face. Anyone would have thought he had just given you a bag of lottery winnings by the way you looked at him.

“Yes, I take it?” he giggled.

Maybe the world was against you, but Jimin was the one thing that made everything better. Sitting next to him surrounded by blankets and sipping cocoa could only be made better if you weren’t just sitting next to him.

As if to prove his place as your personal saviour, Jimin soon snuggled closer to you.

After a few minutes of his head on your shoulder, your arm around him, you whispered into his hair.

“Maybe tonight was lucky in the end.”

“Hmm?” he twisted to look at you and your heart softened even more when you saw his eyes were barely open. Smiling giddily, you pulled back to look at him.

“I just always thought bad things happened to me. But it’s not so bad ending up here with you.”

A hand scrubbed over his face in an effort to wake up a little more. Embarrassment already began to encroach as you watched his mouth opening and closing. Had you said too much?

And then he shuffled closer, all those thoughts dissipating like dandelion seeds as his hand brushed your cheek. His lips lay in a peaceful smile, and you couldn’t take your eyes away as he silently shuffled closer.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sound barely leaving your mouth.

Then his lips met yours.

It wasn’t forceful, quite the opposite. The kind of kiss that made you lean in for more, sweet and lingering, erasing any memory of what existed outside of it. Now his soft touch felt so real, so present and so… Jimin.

Hands ghosted across skin, hungry but tentative.

Time got lost around you as you gave in, indulging in each other until you lay on top of him, breathless as you paused. His eyes were smiling. He was always smiling.

Unable to believe Park Jimin kissed you, wanted you too, you stared at him, trying to soak it all in.

Another laugh passed his lips, joy overflowing. His arms tightened around your waist, squeezing you tightly against his chest, and a kiss was pressed to your forehead.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You had to look back at his face then, just to check those words had actually passed his lips.

“Yes!”

The room was familiar, even though it was dark. Nothing could be seen but you knew you had been here before.

The woman had not moved. Was she still angry?

For the first time, the fire shows itself as more than just a glimmer lighting the wisened face. No, it is there, bright and dancing.

Taunting.

You can’t look away but it burns your eyes. That is not all it burns.

The woman’s hand reaches out, engulfed in the fire, and suddenly your silence bursts.

The fire is deafening, cracking like a monster walking on bones, roaring in its pain. Maybe the darkness is the smoke. It gets in your eyes, but you still can’t look away, can’t blink, and beyond the red beast, the woman in still there, voice finally loud and strong, surfacing in the brief moments through the blazing fire.

You can’t understand her.

But you understand she is not a friend. You know from the way her hand rises from the fire unscathed. She must be a friend to the fire, but the fire is hurting you.

You can’t move.

You can’t look away.

Smoke is in your lungs, fire clings to your skin.

You can’t scream but you need to, you need to get out of here, but no one knows you’re here, you don’t even know where here is, or how you got here, but it hurts, and she only wants to hurt you more, and-

Someone is shouting but it’s not her this time and it cuts through the fire. Then it stops and you fall back, darkness and blinding fire side by side-

“Y/N!”

Hands on your shoulder. The room is dark. Where is the smoke? Breath judders in and out of your throat. You cough. The hands draw back. The fire is gone too.

A dim light flicks on and Jimin looks at you. Propped on his elbow, he looks down at you where you lie on the pillow, other hand coming up to stroke down your face. You were used to waking up like this, alone, but now he was there and all you wanted was his warmth.

When you dived towards him, he folded you in his arms, holding you close as you breathed in his safety.

“You okay?” he spoke into the stillness.

At first, you nodded into his chest. Then you thought he might want a bit more detail about why you had woken him in the middle of the night, so you lifted your head. Nose-to-nose on the pillow, you explained.

“It’s this dream I keep having,” you whispered, “I always forget about it after, but it keeps coming back. It was… different, today.”

“What happens in the dream?” a delicate crease formed between Jimin eyebrows.

“I’m in a dark room…” your eyes wandered to the air by his ear as you tried to picture it, “there’s this woman there. And she’s always saying something, but I can never hear. And there’s a fire. Today she made the fire grow, and I could hear her for once, but I still didn’t understand what she was saying.”

“Strange…” he murmured.

“I know,” you sighed, shuffling closer to him under the duvet, “but let’s go back to sleep.”

“Not until I kiss you better,” he smirked, voice still husky with sleep as he rolled you over and planted more perfect kisses to your lips.

Quickly circling your arms and legs around him, you eagerly reciprocated. Your bodies fit together so well, both defying sleep as the kisses continued between your smiling mouths until the dream was well and truly gone from your mind.

In the morning, your phone seemed to have resurrected itself from where it was charging at the wall, and it decided to announce this loudly to Jimin’s entire apartment. Both stirring at the same time when the ringtone blasted across the room, you extricated yourselves from each other.

Jimin reached across for his own phone, groaning when he saw that it was already eleven and promptly flopping back onto the bed. You, on the other hand, abandoned the comfort of the warm bed in favour of making whoever was calling shut up.

However, just as you reached your phone, it fell silent anyway.

Opening it and scrolling through the notifications, you found it was Jungkook who had phoned. You had used Jimin’s phone to text them in the end yesterday, and they said they would come back from the festival early to let you in, so you supposed he was back.

Taking it off charge, you opened Jungkook’s messages, of which there were several from last night.

Before you could read them, though, Jimin’s ringtone started up. Looking up, you admired his muscular back as he twisted to pick it up.

“It’s Jin,” he frowned, looking to you.

Sitting back on the bed, you just shrugged.

“Hello?” Jimin greeted.

He was leaning back on one arm, but as he listened to whatever Jin was saying, he sat forwards, face growing serious.

“O-okay, yeah,” he said.

Startling you, he pushed the covers aside and pulled his wardrobe open, one hand still occupied with the phone. When he had pulled out a random pair of jeans and a shirt, he turned to you. He crossed the room rapidly, holding out the phone for you to take.

You stared between his face and the phone, then shook yourself and hurriedly took it.

“Jin?”

“Y/N, we just got back… I think you should probably come here.”

“Okay, we can come soon, what’s going on?”

“Um, well…” for a moment your heart froze as he paused, fearing what might be wrong. Jungkook could be heard faintly in the background.

“Are you still there? Jin?”

“There was a fire.”

Now it was your turn to be silent. You were aware that your boyfriend was undressing right behind you, but all you could do was sit still.

“What?” you choked.

“Listen, don’t worry, it’s going to be okay-“

“How bad?”

Another pause from Jin, and you knew he didn’t want to say.

“Most of the apartment is fine, it’s just your room…” you heard the soft creak of your sofa as he sat heavily, “just come here, okay? We’ll sort something out.”

“Y-yeah. See you soon.”

Shakily, you stood. Jimin was fully dressed, car keys already in hand.

It was exactly like Jin had said, but that still didn’t make it any better.

You knocked on the door, greeted with a lingering hug from Jin. He always gave those kind of hugs, like he was trying to hold you together with his own arms. From the outside, your place looked the same, but you could already see black streaks on the wall as you looked down the corridor, where Jungkook nervously licked and bit his lip alternately.

Yoongi and Namjoon were also there, trying very hard to blend into the wall. They took the first chance they could to join Jimin by the door as you stepped past them all towards your room.

Black seeped around the edges of your door. You felt numb as you pushed against it, swinging it open to reveal an unrecognisable space. Everything was completely ravaged by the fire, curtains hanging from the pole in rags, dark debris covering the floor and furniture stained darker than it was ever meant to be.

Your feet disturbed the dust of what was once yours, carrying you further into the wreckage.

Until a hand landed on your shoulder, you simply stood, paralysed. But then Jimin was next to you and you broke into his arms.

“The firefighters were here this morning when we got back,” Jin said, “they told us a candle set fire to your curtain and it started from there.”

You nodded.

That’s all you had been doing for a while since the lot of you had camped out in the living room back at Jimin’s. You had been huddled against him ever since as your flatmates made calls to the landlord, insurance, repair services and so on.

It wasn’t too severely damaged.

That’s what the general consensus was, and you could go back to living there after a couple of days unless any complications were found as they cleaned up the house. But for you, it was different. It was your stuff that had burned.

Even the photos in the hallway that burned, the only victims of the flames that had escaped your room, were all of you. For the thousandth time, you questioned if someone out there really hated you so much.

At least your friends didn’t.

They hadn’t expected anything of you, letting you stay silent and sorting everything out. Now that all anyone could do was wait, a lazy day was declared and the blankets made a return appearance.

Jimin invited his friends Tae and Hoseok, who were apparently also friends with his flatmates, and Jin went shopping with Namjoon, insisting on cooking later.

You had to admit, being surrounded by Jimin and your friends did lift your spirits. Taehyung and Jungkook had instantly hit it off, goofing around as crap TV played in the background. All the sweets you had failed to eat the night before came in especially useful for such a big group.

Jin’s food was excellent as always, and you had recovered enough by dinner time to notice something different about your friend.

“Did you see my messages last night?” Jungkook whispered, digging his elbow into you. You squealed, but he shushed you, looking around at the others.

It was getting dark, and you had all piled together for a film (not horror).

When the others’ eyes left you, you glared at your youngest friend.

“I didn’t. What is it?”

Beside you, Jimin’s arm tightened around your waist as he leaned forwards, resting his chin on your shoulder to hear Jungkook too.

“Yeah Kook, what is it?” he chuckled.

“Jin-hyung was on date!” Kook’s big eyes sparkled with excitement as you sat forward with a start, evicting Jimin from his spot on your shoulder.

“What?!” you whisper-shouted.

“I know!”

Spluttering for something to say, you grabbed Kook’s hands as you both bounced up and down on the sofa, Jimin hiding laughter behind his hand at the two of you.

“Who was it? How did you find out? Did he like them? Ohmygod!” you rambled.

Jungkook laughed, but supressed it quickly, smile full to bursting as he leaned forwards, barely containing himself.

“Namjoon-hyung,” he whispered.

Now Jimin’s eyes bulged from his head along with you.

“Oh my god.”

Satisfied with your reactions, Jungkook giggled as you and Jimin exchanged looks.

“Hush, you lot. And I would be careful – Jin and I are not the only ones who seem to have got up to something this weekend.”

Three pairs of wide eyes turned towards Namjoon, who was right beside Jungkook. He simply snorted a laugh, dimples making an appearance as he turned back to the film without another word.

You stayed quiet after that.

Jimin had to admit, your pessimism seemed to be justified.

From a roof tile falling on you, people spilling coffee on you, your keys vanishing mysteriously on the very night your apartment caught fire, unlucky would be an understatement. Now he sat in the library, mind drifting back to all the time he had known you.

The first time you had come round to study, he remembered staring in surprise at all your memory sticks. You kept so many on you, as well as saving your work onto enough clouds to make a storm, on top of keeping notes on paper.

Perhaps you weren’t just disorganised as you claimed. In fact, you seemed extremely organised, but you insisted your documents went missing all the time.

He placed down another book on the growing pile beside him, pulling the next one out.

When he had taken you back to your room after the fire, he sadly placed a row of charred pot plants in a bin bag. They were all dead anyway, you had said, I can never keep them alive.

Yoongi had come to the library too, under the guise of studying. If studying consisted of forcing Namjoon to let him into the staff room for unlimited coffee, then he was being very productive.

But when Jimin confessed his fears, Yoongi had also told him about you dreaming in class.

Only a few passing paragraphs had struck him as relevant so far in his quest for research, and the sky was already dimming outside. Only a couple more books sat on his left side, the books he hadn’t read yet. Sighing in defeat, he placed yet another book across to the right and pulled the largest tome yet over to him.

This one didn’t look like it had been touched in years, leather binding groaning as he heaved it open, coughing at the dust that spewed from its pages. But finally, he saw something promising in the contents.

Turning the yellowed pages, he reached his destination, instantly knowing from the illustrations that this was it. A full moon, just like the one outside the library window. A wilted plant. A spider-web of swirling black smoke.

Eyes devouring the words on the page, he eventually sat back. For a moment, he looked at the thin air in front of him, swallowing hard.

Then he sprung into action, pulling out his phone and snapping photos of the book. It shut heavily in another cloud of dust, and then it was away on the shelf and Jimin’s thumb was hovering over your contact as he rushed to his flatmates at the desk.

“I’ve found it!”

Namjoon mumbled something that sounded a lot like finally as Yoongi turned away from him towards Jimin. He was already calling you, wanting to meet up to share his findings.

The ringtone stopped, and he opened his mouth to greet you, only for your voicemail to speak first.

Brow creasing, he pulled his phone away and hung up, pressing call again.

Nothing.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, but Jimin was looking past him. The moon hung so innocently in the sky, but Jimin’s veins were turning to ice.

“We have to go. Now.”

The week following such an eventful Halloween had been a blur. You were pretty sure tonight was the first time you had been alone since that night.

Jungkook was at home with his family for his brother’s birthday, Jin working late at the restaurant.

Jimin had been working in the library all day with his flatmates too, leaving you at your newly repaired house all by yourself. As per a yearly tradition, Jin had salvaged some pumpkins from his work that were due to be thrown out when pumpkin pie left the menu, but you were the only one around to carve them at the moment.

But you were bored. And there were plenty, too many if you were honest, and you were always terrible, so it wouldn’t hurt to practise before Jimin had to witness your shocking pumpkin art skills.

And this was how you ended up in the middle of a storm of pumpkin innards in your kitchen, wonky face leering from the unfortunate vegetable behind you as you looked around at the mess.

Having already slipped over once on the orange goo, you decided cleaning up took priority over improving your artistry. Setting the knife down, you bent down and scooped up the largest clump, a few seeds falling from your hands as you shuffled over to the bin on your knees.

Pushing your hair behind your ear and leaving a sticky orange clump while you were at it, you leaned across to another patch, right at the base of the counter.

But as you stretched out your fingers, a shape fell down your vision. Before you could even blink, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your arm as metal clattered to the tile.

Recoiling, you were met with bright red. The knife that had leapt from the side was the sharpest one in the kitchen, Jin’s pride and joy. Where it had hit your arm, aided by gravity, it had easily sliced into your skin which now spewed blood at an alarming rate as you jumped up, eyes glued to the injury.

Bandages. Clean it. Stop the blood.

Minor first aid had been drilled into your head since you were younger, given all the scrapes and bruises you accumulated. But now, as red spattered onto your kitchen floor, you couldn’t seem to remember the order to do things.

Where were the bandages anyway?

No, clean it. Yes.

Ripping your eyes away, you clutched the edge of the sink as you stuck your arm under running water. It burned like fire into your cut.

Snatching your arm back, you watched the pale red splash up the edges of the sink, now falling onto the counter too. Shit. Clamping your other hand over the injury, you squeezed it and hissed in pain just as the room wobbled around you.

Scratch all this. You needed to lie down.

Eyes set on the sofa, you stepped towards it, but you never made it that far.

In the brightness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

Fire blazes all around her, throwing her face into light, nearly erasing the wrinkles that cling to her.

She is louder than the fire, words you do not recognise spilling from her lips. You’ve heard this kind of thing before, though, and you know she is gifted. Her words carry the distinct sound of the language of magic.

Though you do not understand it, you know she is not a friend.

But her words change.

Within the hostile words, there is one you know. A name.

But it isn’t yours. Why are you here if she wants Eunji? Eunji is your grandmother’s name.

Before you can ask, the fire stops burning. Silence returns.

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. She is lit by moonlight.

“Why are we in such a hurry anyway?” Yoongi eyed his friend in the passenger seat as he chewed his lip, looking back at his phone for the third time in a minute.

“Something bad might have happened.”

Resurfacing from his blank phone screen, Jimin watched the light turn to green, relieved when Yoongi pulled away much too fast.

When they pulled up outside your building, Jimin had already thrown his seatbelt off, jumping out before Yoongi had even turned the car off. Frowning, he followed his friend as he ran to the door, nearly beating it down with the force of his knocks.

No one answered.

He had thought you could be just napping, missing the phone calls. Letting your phone die was a special talent of yours, anyway.

But no one could sleep through the racket Jimin was making.

Joining Jimin at the door, he looked around. Since you had been locked out, Jin had given in and had a spare key made to ‘save you from yourself’. Picking up a pot plant from the doorstep, Yoongi revealed the key, which Jimin instantly dived for.

“Y/N?” Jimin was running up the hallway.

Yoongi heard him gasp before he had reached the corner himself, but it made him speed up.

It was a good thing Jimin had panicked. Because there you were, out cold on the kitchen floor, blood flowing from your arm and a knife stained red lying nearby.

Yoongi already had his phone to his ear as Jimin crashed to his knees next to you, crying out your name and pulling you onto his knees. No response came. Looking wildly around him, he grabbed for a towel, rolling it up and pressing it into your arm where the blood still seeped out.

He barely heard Yoongi talking behind him as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, free hand cupping your face, running his thumb shakily across your cheekbone.

The paramedics didn’t arrive for too long. Then he blinked and they were everywhere, hands pulling him back away from you. You got lost in the water warping his vision.

But you would be okay.

That was what they said, but he could barely believe it when he walked into your hospital room at last, greeted with your eyes, awake and alive. Your sheepish smile, embarrassed at another mishap.

It felt like air had entered his lungs for the first time since it all left him when he had seen you on the floor some hours ago.

“Thank god,” he choked when his face was finally pressed into your hair, arms holding so tight you weren’t sure you would ever escape. Not that you would complain about that.

His lips found yours desperately, telling you how much he cared, how much he worried. Eyes fluttering shut, you returned the embrace, reveling in the feeling.

A cough startled you apart.

“Get a room,” Jin complained. It didn’t quite have the same effect when his smile wouldn’t leave his face.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we are in a room,” you retorted.

Nonetheless, Jimin stepped back and let Jin hug you. Yoongi followed not far behind with a carrier of coffee for everyone. Jungkook had already called you, just before they all arrived, promising bucketloads of junk food when he came back.

“I thought I banned you from my good knives,” Jin fixed you with a stare as he sat down.

You avoided his gaze.

“The others weren’t strong enough for the pumpkin,” you muttered, aware of how stupid it sounded.

He just sighed.

“I’m just glad Jimin turned up when he did,” Jin squeezed Jimin’s knee, “how did you know to come anyway?”

“Well…” Jimin shuffled in his seat, “I sort of found something out…”

Looking to the other occupants in the room, you found their gazes just as blank as yours.

“What do you mean?”

Tugging his chair a little closer, Jimin reached out for your hand, enclosing it in his.

“I was doing some research. We all know you’re clumsy, unlucky and bad things happen to you a lot-“

“Thanks Jimin,” you said drily, eyebrows climbing your face.

“No, no! I still l- you know what I mean,” he sighed after you burst out laughing at his panic, “no, but seriously Y/N, I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I study curses, and all the signs are there. Dreams, bad luck, unlikely accidents. I found a book, there was this illustration about a particular curse, it matched the scorch marks from the fire at your place exactly. It’s an old curse, elders used it to wish ill fortune on a family line, and it relies on moon magic. And tonight was a full moon, and this happened, so…”

Staring back at your boyfriend, you were glad for the grounding presence of his hand. You hadn’t understood all of what he said, not knowing anything about magic yourself, but it was clear what he thought.

You were cursed.

“But-but my family aren’t cursed,” you spoke quietly, “you said it was a family curse-”

“A family line curse,” he explained, “it only affects one person, but it’s a curse bestowed on someone else in your family. Sometimes people want to hurt a loved one of the one they curse, not the enemy themselves.”

“That’s horrible,” you whispered.

“I know,” Jimin said, “and that’s why we need to break it. I’m sure I’m right about this, it all fits. I can show you the book I found, if you want.”

Nodding, you looked at your lap.

“How do we break it?”

“That’s a little more tricky…” Jimin admitted, pushing a hand through his hair, “we need to find out who cast it in the first place. That way we can unwork exactly what was done, since it’s a highly personal curse.”

“My grandma,” you muttered.

“Sorry?”

“I think it was my grandma.”

You eyes met Jimin’s. Greeted with his full attention, you took a breath and elaborated.

“I had another dream… or, at least, I think it was a dream. It was while I was passed out. It was the same as before, but, well, it was quite different actually. But the woman, she definitely said my grandma’s name.”

“Then you’re probably right,” Jimin squeezed your hand, “shall we give her a call?”

As the dial tone bleeped in your ear, you looked around at your friends. Although Yoongi had dozed off in his chair, Jin was giving you an encouraging smile. When your eyes met, he gave you a thumbs up. Grinning, you leaned back into Jimin’s arms where he sat on the bed behind you.

“Hello?” your grandpa’s voice finally greeted you.

“Oh, hi, grandpa, it’s me,” you smiled.

“Hello sweetie! How are you?” he asked, “your dad told us you had an accident today.”

“Yes, I’m fine thank you. I was wondering if I could talk to grandma?”

“Ah, sorry love, she’s out at the moment. Bad luck.”

Not funny grandpa. Bad luck was the exact thing you were trying to shake off.

“Okay,” you sighed, “maybe she could phone me when she gets back?”

“Hold on,” your grandpa’s voice grew more distant. In the distance, a door clicked. “I think that’s her now. I’ll get her.”

Suddenly, his yell of ‘EUNJIII!’ made you jump, hurriedly jerking away from your phone.

“Hello dear?” your grandma’s voice crackled across and you deemed it safe to return the device to your ear.

“Hi grandma. I have something I have to ask you.”

“Of course,” you could practically hear her smiling, but you felt yourself growing hot. How were you meant to breach such a subject?

“Um, were you ever, I mean, how-“ a deep breath, “are you cursed?”

Wow. Real tactful, you scolded yourself mentally.

“Oh!” you grandma laughed on the other line, “I see, dear. Any reason you’re asking.”

“Um, just, that, maybe, I might be sort of… cursed, too,” you winced.

“I mean, you are quite unlucky…” she gave an awkward laugh, but offered nothing more.

“Grandma,” you begged, “please tell me.”

She sighed.

“Okay. Yes, I was cursed. I never believed it though, but ever since you came along, I started to see the truth. Your grandpa knows all this too, but I never thought it would be so bad.”

“But we can break it grandma,” you encouraged, “it can be broken if we know why it was cast in the first place.”

“You can really break it?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“I’m so sorry, I never knew anything about all this magic, I just thought… well, I can tell you what happened.

“Y/N, the thing is... I’m bisexual. And when I was your age, I had a girlfriend. When her mother found out, she was very angry. Back then, people weren’t accepting like they are now, and she wouldn’t tolerate us being together. They were from a community of magic and she blamed me for ‘leading her daughter astray’, and tried to curse me, saying I would feel her pain when I had a daughter of my own.”

“Oh,” you breathed. That made sense. Your grandma only had one child, your father. So… “I’m the next daughter in the family.”

“Yes, my dear,” your grandma sighed, “so you see why I never believed her. She was just a hateful old woman, and when your dad was fine, I thought the curse wasn’t real. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s okay, grandma,” you told her, “I still love you very much. We will break it. Thank you for telling me.”

Magic in real life was nothing like what you had seen on TV. Well, you were doing a different kind, you supposed.

Jimin had a massive book on the floor in front of him, a row of dried plants beside him. Eyeing them, you took deep breaths. Jimin’s explanation hadn’t really made sense to you, so you just planned to go with whatever the process was.

You had understood one thing, however.

“Homophobic piece of shit curse,” you grumbled, picking aggressively at the floorboards. “This would be so much better if I had to kiss a girl, just to stick it to that woman.”

Smile tugging at his lips, Jimin looked up at you.

“Do you not want to kiss me?”

“Of course I want to kiss you, idiot,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m just saying.”

Chuckling, Jimin bent back over his book.

“Well, I think we’re ready. Then you never have to kiss me again.”

“No, Jimin!” you gasped, “I want to kiss you plenty!”

“Come here then,” he laughed.

Giggling, you walked to him and knelt in front of him, returning to the gorgeous familiarity of his kiss, his hands tantalising on your waist.

“Okay,” he panted, eventually drawing back, “that was a good practise. Time to do it for real. Are you ready?”

Nodding, you climbed off him and sat, mirroring his position cross-legged on the floor. At his reassuring smile, you closed your eyes.

You felt his soft palm rest on your forehead, and he murmured something. Though it was incomprehensible to you, it did stir something in you. Though your eyes were closed, your retinas seemed flooded with golden light, while something churned low in your stomach.

The hand stayed in place as the scent of lavender engulfed you, one of the plants Jimin had prepared. He spoke again.

Suddenly, the light flashed and disappeared, the world sinking into darkness.

One face is visible.

You know her, you have been here before, and she is still talking.

But now the smoke in the room is visible, light grey tendrils rising from burning lavender. There is no fire. The woman’s voice changes then.

The language of magic continues, but Jimin’s voice is sounding through the room, and another smell meets you, a herb you do not know.

You stay there for a while. Although you do not move, you are sure you could if you wanted. You aren’t in danger here anymore.

Her hand raises. She has done that before, but this time there is no threat. You are sure of it. You know it from the way light pools in her palm, warm, innocent, inviting.

You cannot look away.

Maybe you are floating. Something is pulling at you, and suddenly you gasp, tasting the herbs in the air. It feels like something is moving inside you. You clutch your chest, feeling something curling around your heart, fighting, and then it is rising and you are choking on it.

Maybe you are dying.

Gasping and spluttering, you find no air. But something finds you. A kiss like home, sweet against your lips, and when they pull away, air spills in.

A whisper by your ears, so close the breath moves your hair.

“Open your eyes.”

The room is light, and one face is visible. Jimin smiles.

“It worked!”

Tackling your boyfriend to the floor in a hug, you press your face into his chest. You couldn’t believe it. It was really gone!

“How do you feel?” he laughed.

“Great! Amazing! Perfect!” you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, “I could do anything! I can have plants without killing them now, right! Jin might let me in the kitchen! Oh my god, I’m going to win a video game against Jungkook!”

Ecstatic, you watched Jimin laughing hysterically under you, joy written all over his face. It suited him.

Maybe now the curse was gone, you could do anything, but there was one thing you wanted more than all that.

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

Please please please reblog if you liked it, sharing my work really helps me out! Thank you for reading💜

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haberdashing · 3 years

Text

A Name For You

Jon and Martin encounter their counterparts in the dimension they’ve found themselves in... and discover some significant differences between their pairs.

on AO3

This world wasn’t all that different from the one Jon and Martin had started out in, all things considered.

London was still there, for one, and Jon and Martin had managed to eke out a living there soon enough, even if the jobs they’d managed to find without any paperwork to their names weren’t quite as white-collar as the ones they’d held before. (At least these jobs didn’t come with the occupational hazard of being stalked by or becoming eldritch monstrosities... any Fear-hunting the pair of them were doing now was strictly extracurricular in nature.)

Just the same, however, it came as something of a shock when Jon and Martin caught a glimpse of themselves in a local park.

Jon and Martin exchanged a look and a few hushed words, unsure whether to approach the pair or simply linger and watch. This other Jon and Martin seemed close as well, holding hands as they meandered through the park. Jon noted with some amusement that his double was wearing a band shirt he himself had given away some years back, while Martin’s double was wearing a soft green jumper that Jon had stolen for his own use more than once during their time in the safehouse.

Soon enough, the conundrum of whether to approach their doubles was solved for Jon and Martin, as the other pair ended up walking over to them before the two of them had decided whether to do the same.

Jon caught the tail end of what sounded like a protest from the other him: “-bad idea, really, don’t you think?”

“Oh come on.” The other Martin said with a smile before looking away from his partner and towards Jon and Martin. “After all, how often do we come across a pair of people that look just like the two of us?”

Martin bit his lip for a moment, clearly considering his response carefully, but Jon decided to just plunge ahead.

“Actually, we don’t just look like the two of you. We are the two of you.”

Their doubles both made curious expressions at that, but it was Martin’s who finally said, “What d’you mean?”

“As you’ve probably guessed, my name is Jonathan Sims-”

“-and I’m Martin Blackwood-”

“And we’re both versions of yourselves from another dimension. The situation is... rather complicated, but rest assured that we’re doing all we can to keep this world safe.”

“That’s really not as reassuring as you seem to think,” the other Jon said, “Especially given all those scars you’ve got, I certainly hope I don’t end up the same way-”

“Hey, that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!” Martin’s words made Jon’s heart flutter a little--even after all this time, after all they had been through together, hearing Martin affirm their relationship so clearly made him emotional every time. “And I for one think he looks wonderful as he is.”

The other Martin made a show of looking over Jon. “The scars aren’t bad-looking, it’s true. I think my boyfriend here just meant he doesn’t want to go through whatever caused them in the first place.”

Jon let out a dark, bitter laugh at that. “You’re right, he really doesn’t want to go through all that. I would know.”

The other Jon glanced between Jon and Martin for a long moment before speaking up. “So you’re saying that you’re us, but from another world?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“A world where I went with the name Jonathan, of all names?”

Jon blinked rapidly for a moment, not having expected that reply. “...what’s wrong with the name Jonathan?”

“Nothing really, it’s just... it’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

“I like that about it. And I put a lot of thought into that name, I’ll have you know. It’s not likely to raise any eyebrows, there’s a few different nicknames you can get from it-”

“It was my- your- our father’s middle name, too, wasn’t it?”

Jon nodded. “I thought that family connection was a bit fitting. Why, what did you go with?”

Jon’s counterpart broke eye contact, his hands shaking slightly. “Well, I, I didn’t put as much thought into it as you seem to have done, I just wanted to pick something and be done with it-”

A smile worked its way onto Jon’s face. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not, really! It’s... Jason. The name’s Jason Sims.”

“You’re right, that’s not as bad as I’d thought based on your protestations there.” Jon hesitated for a moment. “Jason as in of the golden fleece, or Jason from that mediocre thriller novel I read when I was twelve?”

Jon could see Jason’s face color at the mention of the novel. “...a little bit of both, honestly.”

Jon tilted his head to the side as he considered this. “...could be worse, I suppose.”

“Thanks for the ringing endorsement there.”

“While we’re talking about this...” Martin’s counterpart leaned forward slightly, looking Martin in the eye. “You kept the family name, huh?”

“Yeah, I did. Thought about ditching it, but... well, nothing else felt right. And Mum was peeved enough about it without me ditching my second name as well as my first. Guessing you didn’t, then?”

Martin’s counterpart shook his head. “I didn’t change it entirely, but I didn’t want it to be quite the same, to be traceable to... well, to all the family I’d rather not think about. Went with Woods, in the end.”

“Martin Woods? I do like the sound of that.”

“Oh, no, I went with Mark actually, though Martin was a close second. So it’s Mark Woods.”

Martin looked at Mark with wide eyes. “If I had to guess names my other self would go by, I’m not sure I ever would have guessed Mark Woods.”

“Well, if I’d heard of one ‘Martin Blackwood’ out of the blue I’d figure it was just some distant cousin I’d never met, so.” Mark shrugged. “Suppose the feeling’s mutual.”

“But you believe us, then?”

Jason and Mark exchanged a long glance before both nodding.

“I think if you were trying to prank us or pull the wool over our eyes in some way, you would know enough to use our actual names along the way.”

Martin snorted. “You’re not wrong there.”

“So, we have a lot to talk about, obviously, but first things first...” Jon let out a long breath before speaking up again. “That novel was not nearly good enough to name yourself after its protagonist! And that Jason isn’t even that interesting of a character--what were you thinking?”

“Look, Nan asked me about it when I was in the middle of the book, and I might have panicked a little-”

Both Martin and Mark giggled a bit at that, and as Jason continued to explain his decision-making process, the smile on Jon’s face just grew wider and wider.

#tma #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #jonmartin #jmart #personal #my writing

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peggyrose19 · 3 years

Text

Exile

This is an idea I got a while back and just now finally had the energy/time to sit and write it! I had a really fun time with it actually, it may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Inspired by Taylor Swift and Bon Iver’s song Exile. Bet you can guess what’s coming :)

It’s angst! My favorite. This song gives me very big war era Wolfstar vibes, so of course that’s what you’re getting. This is a period of time between them I’ve never explored before so it was really fun to figure out their interactions and how they’d act around each other. Y’know, based off the approximately three nuggets of canon and ten million pieces of fanon I’ve consumed.

I am doing a part 2 to this. That will be up at some point probably.

cw: blood and death mentions

Remus couldn’t recall the exact moment everything changed. In fact, he wasn’t sure there even was one. But he could remember the day he realized, the day everything crumbled around him in shards on the floor. Everything was fine until it wasn’t and by then only he was left to pick up the pieces.

He woke up alone the morning before the October full moon. 1981. The war had gotten nasty by then. So many people were gone, were terrified to even leave their houses. Nothing was the same anymore.

That morning when Remus awoke was a cold one. Typical for October, but Remus was always cold. He reached out a hand; the other side of the bed had gone cold too. Shit. Frowning, Remus sat up. Shivering in the cool air, he climbed out of bed, wincing at the ice cold floor. He pulled a jumper on as he headed for the kitchen, following the smell of coffee through the narrow hallway.

“Sirius?” he called out, entering the dim-light kitchen and looking around. The dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen. “Sirius?”

A fresh pot of coffee sat on the counter, a mug and a piece of paper beside it. Remus read the note first, stomach sinking. He recognized Sirius’ messy scrawl. Got called out for a quick mission, I’ll be back for dinner. Left the coffee for you. Love you.

He sighed. “Of course.”

With a resolute breath, Remus poured himself a mug from the spelled-warm pot and got started on his work for the day.

It was becoming a common occurrence these days, waking to an empty bed or being called away himself. It seemed something was always happening, another disaster, another death. They rarely made it through a whole night undisturbed now. Remus was so tired. He kept hoping and waiting for a moment of peace, a moment of rest, but it never seemed to come. War didn’t sleep.

When Sirius got home that night it was after dinner.

“Where have you been?” Remus asked when the door had safely been shut behind him and Sirius was shedding off his coat. Exhaustion hung in his face, his body. His grey eyes were dull, lacking the playful light they’d always held at school.

“Mission,” he replied tiredly, crossing to join Remus on the couch. It was a sad, threadbare thing but it was theirs. “You know I can’t say anything, certainly not here.” He plopped down with a sigh, leaning into Remus, and that’s when Remus knew just how tough the day had been for him.

“You alright, love?” he asked quietly, running a soft hand through his dark locks.

“No,” Sirius answered honestly, voice raw. He buried his face in Remus’ shoulder, the soft wool of his jumper warm and comforting.

Remus sighed and held him closer. They’d done this so many times. Comforting each other, holding each other tight as their world destroyed itself around them. Nothing ever seemed to get better. Nothing seemed to help.

“D’you want to talk about it?” he asked. As usual, Sirius shook his head. He never wanted to talk about it. Remus was never sure if he couldn’t or if he refused to. “How ‘bout a movie?” he offered instead.

“Alright.”

Silently, Remus switched the tv on, turning it to their usual channel, and let it play, volume low. Sirius huddled closer, pulling the blankets over them both, eyes downcast.

“Pads?” Remus asked after a while. Sirius shifted.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to be here tomorrow night?”

Sirius looked up. “Of course. I would never leave you alone like that.”

“Promise?”

As Sirius looked at him, eyes bright and fierce, Remus felt like he was a kid again, looking up at his best friend as he vowed to never leave. He was back in their dorm room, curtains pulled tight around his bed as Sirius sat beside him and reassured him everything would be okay, promising to be there in the morning.

“I promise,” he vowed, echoing the words of so many years ago.

It eased his heart, to hear the words again, to know that no matter what else happened, Sirius would always be by his side. That much at least would never change.

Remus waited impatiently in the forest, knowing what was about to happen. It had been spelled with numerous muggle-repelling charms and protective measures, but they did nothing to ease the churning in his gut. That couldn’t be helped by anything. He was used to that by now.

As the sun fell lower in the sky, the forest darkening around him, Remus felt worse and worse. It was nearly time. So where was Sirius?

“Remus? Remus!” the panicked voice broke through the haze in his mind. The first thing he registered was the warm ground beneath him and a heavy weight above him.

“Sirius?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m here.” Remus willed his eyes open, taking in the hazy outline of Sirius leaning over him. Beyond him the sky was pink, trees reaching tall. It was dawn. Sirius sighed in relief. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Remus grunted, forcing himself into a seating position. Sirius followed, tracking his movement carefully. “You weren’t here last night.”

Regret filled Sirius’ gaze. “I know, I’m sorry. I was called out on-”

“Another mission, yeah.”

Bitterness crept into his voice as he pushed himself to his feet, Sirius helping him up. “You promised.”

Sirius sighed, running a rough hand over his face. “I know, I’m sorry. There was… there was nothing I could do. I’m so sorry Moons.”

In that moment Remus couldn’t help but feel resentful. Towards Dumbledore, towards Voldemort and his Death Eaters, even towards Sirius. And suddenly he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t stand before this man he loved so much and just pretend everything was okay. He didn’t have it in him anymore.

“I’m going home.”

Without another word, Remus brushed off Sirius’ hand and Apparated, knowing it was stupid and doing it anyways. It was pure stubbornness that got him to the front door of their flat in one piece. His whole body ached, only made worse by the journey, but he didn’t have it in him to care. He just staggered to the bathroom and turned the shower on, stripping off his torn clothes and stepping in before the water even warmed.

It was ice cold against his skin but he welcomed the bite, sharpening his senses and washing away the drowsiness. The water grew warmer as Remus grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed at his skin, dirt and blood washing the water dark red. He winced at a particularly bad gash on his arm, but cleaned it out efficiently, well used to the pain.

As he washed the last bits of soap from his hair, Remus heard the front door close and knew Sirius had come home. He sighed to himself, staying in the shower a moment longer, hating himself for hiding and unwilling to leave.

“Remus?” Sirius called out, and he knew he’d have to face the music.

“Give me a minute,” he shouted back, and reluctantly turned the water off. Cold air hit him as soon as he pulled the shower curtain back, exhaustion sweeping through his body now that the adrenaline was fading and the warmth was gone. Shivering, he toweled off and pulled on the clean set of clothes he’d grabbed before. The apartment was eerily quiet.

With quiet feet, Remus made his way to the living room, finding Sirius on the couch with a book. He wasn’t reading it, Remus knew instantly, but only pretending to, eyes flitting over the page half-hazardly.

“Sirius?” he said hesitantly, although he knew the man had heard him come down the hallway.

He turned, looking at Remus searchingly. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?” Remus sighed, but he went and sat down on the couch beside him, fighting the longing and fear battling in his chest.

“Yes. Remus, you walked away from me!”

“Technically I Apparated,” Remus muttered, and the corners of Sirius’ mouth twitched upward. He fought them down.

“Re-”

“You weren’t there,” Remus interrupted. “You weren’t there. And you promised you would be. I know-” he held up a hand- “it wasn’t your fault. I know that now. But I didn’t last night. Sirius, I had no way of knowing if you were okay or not. I didn’t know if you were still alive or if…” he swallowed hard. “Or if you were dead. I knew nothing. I needed you and you weren’t there and I didn’t know where you were.”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them once more, Remus could see the pain lingering there, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. That anger had once made Remus fall in love with him. These days it was aimed at him as a broken cry for help, helpless words shouted to the walls as if it would bring their innocence back.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed before he could say anything. He just wanted to sleep. “Can we not? Please? I’m so sick of fighting with you, we do this every time. You get a mission and you leave and you come back worse than before. And I can’t do it anymore. You promised me. You said we’d be okay, you said-”

“I know!” Sirius shouted, and the sound startled Remus. “I know I did,” he said, quieter. “And I one hundred percent meant it. I didn’t ask for this, okay? I didn’t ask to be sent on mission, I didn’t ask for this fucking war to happen! Alright? I just…” All the fight seemed to drain out of him. “I love you. So much. And I just want to keep you, keep us, safe.”

“I know you do,” Remus said quietly.

“Look,” Sirius sighed frustratedly. “Can we just get some rest? C’mon, you’ve been up all night, I know how the moons drain you. You need sleep.”

Remus contemplated. He knew it was never good to go to bed angry, but he couldn’t keep doing this. “Okay.”

They got ready for bed silently, dancing around each other the way they normally did, a comfortable ease settling over them. It was nice, to have that reassurance. Even with everything they still knew each other.

When Remus climbed into bed, Sirius silently threw another blanket over him, smoothing out the wrinkles before crawling in beside him.

“G’night Moons,” Sirius whispered.”

“Night Pads.”

For once they both slept through the night.

The next two weeks passed without incident for the pair. More battles were fought, more lives were lost. Remus and Sirius went about their days, waking early and making coffee together, kissing in the bathroom while they brushed their teeth, disappearing on missions alone and coming back bloody and haunted.

With each passing day, Sirius slipped further from Remus’ grasp. They fought more and more often, over stupid petty things and big life-changing events that had no good outcomes. And with each passing day Remus wished more and more they could go back to school, to the days of not understanding what war meant or what love was. He wanted that happiness back, the blissfulness and eagerness that came with first crushes and being a teenager. He wondered if he’d ever feel that again.

The morning of October 31st, Remus woke up alone, cold beneath the blankets. He found a note in the kitchen, saying Sirius had to go out and would be back by nightfall, and a fresh pot of coffee made just the way he liked it.

He left the coffee.

There was no work to do that day, no mission to go on or paperwork to fill out or letters to write. There was nothing and no one to fight the silence that crept in. So Remus settled on the couch with a book and stared at the pages for long hours as the clock ticked and the sun rose beyond the walls of his living room.

It was nearing nighttime when a knock on the door shook Remus from his stupor. With a heavy sigh, he stood and went to answer it. He blinked.

“Professor.” In the doorway stood Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his typical flowing robes and a grim look on his face.

“Hello Mr. Lupin. I’m so sorry to burst in like this. May I come in.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course, come in.”

“Thank you.” Dumbledore settled at the kitchen table, piercing eyes following Remus as he stood across from him.

“Why are you here?” Remus asked bluntly. His opinion of his old Headmaster had lessened with each passing month.

“I'm afraid I have some bad news.” Remus sighed internally. It was never good news these days. “I’m sorry Mr. Lupin. But they’re gone. James and Lily, Peter… and Sirius.”

“What.”

For the first time in his life, Dumbledore seemed uncomfortable. “Mr. Black betrayed us.”

“No.” Remus shook his head. “No, no he wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lupin. But he did. He’s being taken to Azkaban now.”

Remus stared at Dumbledore for a long time. For long silent minutes, he just stared, disbelief and anger and pain filling him to the core. Dumbledore’s words hit him to the core, his worst nightmare suddenly brought to life in a cruel twist of fate. He felt his knees buckle, felt himself hit the ground, The pain didn’t register.

He hadn’t seen this coming. Hadn’t looked hard enough, had been blindsided by his own damn love for a traitor. He couldn’t find the words to demand what happened, couldn’t find them even in his own head. They were all gone. And now he was alone.

He should have seen the signs.

Iron doors clanged shut behind Sirius. He barely heard the sound. It echoed faintly in his ears, quiet over the ringing in his mind. Too loud was the silence, the rough wind from the dementors circling his cell. Too loud were his thoughts, falling deeper and deeper with each passing moment.

He was alone again. Trapped in the darkness. There was no one left out there, no one to save him here. And there was no saving himself, not this time.

James, Lily, Harry, all gone. Peter. Remus.

Voldemort. Regulus. Peter.

Remus.

Peter.

He should have seen the signs.

#angst #wolfstar #war era wolfstar #death mention tw #blood mention tw #exile #part 1 #i enjoy hurting them #it's fun #:)#so enjoy

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aesthbaby · 4 years

Text

Her Secret

Summary: We’re all aware of Emily’s untold secrets that she took to the grave with her but what about Lauren? The one thing both woman have in common is you, and the memories they took with them in both of their deaths

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Prompt/request: None, just an idea I’ve had in my head for a while.

Warnings: Cursing | Death

Wordcount: Almost 4k

Master List

AN: Time line might be a little spotty because the show did not give many details but I promise its still comprehensible.

Its beautiful for a sad event. The white flowers are such a stark contrast to her personality. The color reminds you of a time before, before they knew her and before all of this happened. One of your eyes feels kind of funny so you reach for it, pulling back to examine the small drop of water on your finger. You compose yourself and push the large, black, sunglasses up your nose. Maybe you shouldn’t be here. You were dressed in all black with a black umbrella. Despite it being a sad day, it was unnecessarily sunny.

You spot her team making their way down the walk way. Three men carrying the dark coffin with one Caned man in the front and the women in tow. You take a step back into the shadows as they near the podium. As the service progresses the amount of speeches and tears are--overwhelming. Images of Emily, once known to you as Lauren, flash across your mind as you hold back any and all emotions associated with this event.

You knew she wasn't really "dead," she couldn’t be. Emily Prentiss is invincible and would never go like that. You saw the woman known as "JJ" glances your way but she says nothing about it. Probably assuming you were another one of Emily's secrets taken to the grave.

Emily’s not dead. Emily wouldn’t die like that.

You kept repeating it in your head.

Italy - 2004

The violets surround the mansion like a protective field. Their peaceful existence mocking your volunteer imprisonment. You only took this job because you and this other agent were the only ones who spoke fluent Italian. She was supposed to take it and you were the understudy or whatever but then she got knocked up so here you are. Being mocked by fucking flowers. Your thoughts are interrupted by Doyle approaching you with his brunette arm dealer on his arm. You turn away from the balcony upon his approach.

“Lauren deve restare qui mentre scappo. Per favore, tienila d'occhio.” Lauren has to stay here while I run out. Please keep an eye on her. He’s always been so bossy, and for what? To make himself seem more powerful than he actually is? We’re all aware of the danger working for him provides.

“Si signore.” Yes sir. You turn to acknowledge the woman in front of you but she speaks first.

“Perché? Non posso venire con te?” Why is that? Can't I come with you? She whines.

He gives her a look and she backs down. The Captain heads out with his guards behind him, leaving you alone with his lover.

You’re not sure what to do with her. Is this a form of babysitting?

She clears her throat. “I know.”

Hearing her speak English was a surprise but it makes sense, there was always something different about her. You arch an eyebrow and reply, “Sai...che cosa?” You know....what?

She holds up a finger for you to give her a moment. She turns around and sticks her head out the door; then closes and locks it. “You’re not really from Tirana, are you?” Who is this woman? You maintain a neutral face while she continues. “The fact that you never eat with us was a dead give away. You’re always held up in this room.” She gestures to the large room filled with files, records, and books. “Like you’re trying to avoid something. I’d also like to point out how you rarely present any Albanian customs.” Where are you going with this Reynolds... “At first I thought, ‘Maybe they’re one of Doyle’s assassins that I’m not supposed to know about.’ But then I started paying attention and realized you’re nothing like that.” You let out a sharp breath. “Its okay.” She takes one of your hands. “I won’t tell Ian. There’s already enough death in his life and I wouldn’t want to see you be one of his next victims.”

You’re stuck in the moment and words are hard to form. All of your training is slipping through your fingers. For all you know she could be bluffing, trying to get you killed. You go with your safest option because you don’t know this woman at all. You pull your hand from her and take a step closer. Peering into her eyes for any sign of fear and when you find none, you proceed. Leaning in as close as possible to her. “Non farei acquisizioni così pericolose se fossi in te.” I wouldn't make such dangerous acquisitions if I were you. You whisper. You could never be sure if your suspicions were correct but this, this was all the confirmation you needed. What’s that old saying? Takes one to know one. “Agente.” Finishing off that last word you brush past her.

Virginia - present

Being back in The States with Doyle still running around is unnecessarily risking. Emily’s defeat is the only reason you’ve come back. To watch her team grieve over the coffin is saddening but having to hide is the shadows is unfair. Am I not allowed to publicly grieve? Are my tears not worthy? The grip on your umbrella tightens. She’s not dead. Emily doesn’t loose. Emotions are running high and the speeches are getting long. Last time you talked, she claimed to be alone. No family and no fiends but clearly she was wrong. What you’d give to be laying under a plum tree on a wool woven blanket with her head in your lap. Eating pastries you raided from the kitchen and telling the Captain that you needed her to help analyze costs. What a fool.

You were so entranced with the memory that you didn’t notice when the pale, dark haired agent approached you. Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief if I’m not mistaken. “Agent.” He acknowledges.

“Sir?” You mumble.

“Your profession was easy enough to guess, though I’m not sure of your name.” Those knitted brown sweaters and golden, dainty necklaces. The short chestnut hair with soft curls that smelled of honey shampoo. The way she’d nudge your foot during dinner while casting discreet glances. Its all gone. “Agent?” He calls again. “Are you alright?”

Before you say anything you make sure your voice is clear. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, did she suffer?” That question didn’t need to be answered but you just had to know. A favor was called in on your behalf by Lieutenant Parks, he gave very few details about her death but you’ll take that over nothing at all. This was the one question you didn’t have an answer for. With nothing but silence from the man, you have your answer.

Reaching for your pocket there’s a small clear box; inside of the plastic is a handful of pressed violets. Without looking you hold the slim box out to him. “Please, make sure she gets them.” After he takes them you make one last note of the sight in front of you. All of her friends, family, and coworkers gathered in one place with Emily’s grave as the centerpiece. You turn to finally face the man, tilting your shades so he can see a bit of your eyes. “Dead or alive.” And then disappearing in to the back of the cemetary.

Italy - Spring of 04′

Two months ago you were staring off of Doyle’s Spanish-styled balcony thinking, “What would happen if I called it quits?” You had enough evidence and entail for him to never see freedom again. So what was stopping you?

Her. She was making you second guess.

After having her call you out for being a spy, you were very careful about what you did and said around her. Its not like she had any definitive proof but at the same time neither did you. What you said that day was a total bluff. Its a miracle you’re still alive. You were left with only two conclusions: one was that she herself is a spy, or two, she’s one of the smartest people Ian has ever brought home.

Then came a day where the boys went out to wherever and it was just you, her, and the maids. Most of them are Russian and speak poor Italian so they usually keep to themselves. You’re at the dining room table pretending to run numbers since that’s literally your job- well that and vetting backgrounds of sellers and buyers. Essentially a secretary with dangerous patrons. The position is mind numbingly boring but it does allow you to remain invisible while observing the operation. Think about it, who’s going to notice the secretary while discussing millions? They’re idiots. They allow you to sit in on every single meeting because you’re just the person who runs numbers. A debatable perk to this job is the amount of free time you posses. Usually its spent digging around the operation, sending information back to HQ, or actually enjoying small aspects of the city. That brings you to right now where you’re doodling random shapes on the bottom corner of the paper.

Lauren is on the couch wearing a button up satin dress, quite short for Ian’s taste so you’re surprised to see her wearing it. She’s read something you’ve never heard of, not that it matters. With no idea why she’s in here with you, you retreat back into your own mind.

“The maids have left.” You suddenly hear beside you, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“You scared me!” At the realization of your chosen language you gasp and watch as Lauren smiles widely. You shoot to your feet repeating no over and over. Actively trying to take back your words while she looks rather amused.

“I knew it!” She points at you all accusingly and shit. You keep shaking your head no and trying to get her to be quiet. “I was right about you!” And here’s the perfect time to have a maid to walk in. Lauren says something to her but you’re too wrapped up in your head to translate. All your years of training, expierence, undercover work has just been thrown away over your stupid mistake.

They’re going to kill me. They’re going to have my head on a stake in the middle of the garden for the world to see- or worse! I’ll be tortured for my crimes by one of Doyle’s men.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the brunette waving her hand in front of your face. “Don’t worry,” She say softly as you notice the house keeper is no longer with you. “I told her they could take a break...” At your confused face she continues. “So now we can talk.”

Virginia - present

To say you had no idea where you were going, was an understatement.

You hadn’t been to Virginia in years so everything felt unfamiliar. You took quick peaks at your surroundings as the rented porshe pushed through the traffic. Everything hurt, not the traditional pain you experience over a broken toe but the emotional kind that coursed through your entire body.

Is this what a broken heart feels like?

You kept telling yourself she wasn’t dead; couldn’t be. Not your Emily, the woman you know is a fighter. She’s fucking invincible and would never let herself die at the hand of that monster. If she was really dead, wouldn’t you feel it? Wouldn’t you feel your connection to her sever?

At the reorganization of the build ahead of you, you pull the car into the left lane.

Italy - Spring of 04′

She is so fucking clingy. Always starring at me when no one is watching and going on less missions with Doyle. Speaking of him, the man likes to take her everywhere; calls her “Ho il mio portafortuna” his good luck charm. She usual goes out with him whenever he’s traveling but lately she’s been making little excuses on why she wants to stay for the day. Instead of spending the day recuperating from a headache (like she’s told him) she’ll bother you.

That accent and the way she pronounces her R’s makes you wanna melt, but then she starts asking you a million and one questions. What’s your favorite food? When’s your birthday? Have you ever broken a bone? Do you enjoy reading? Its always something with her. I think she’s trying to annoy me. So far you’ve been answering her questions in Italian to insure that you don’t fuck up again.

Doyle is none the wiser, he still sees you as a secretary and her as arm candy.

But you must admit that Lauren is growing on you. She hasn’t said anything in English to you lately or exposed you to Doyle. You’re rarely ever alone but when you are, she gives you one of her finished books and sits in the room quietly. Its comforting. Today she’s given you Niccolo Ammaniti with a note scribbled in pencil on the 5th page, “Hang in there.” Smart woman, writing it in light pencil so I can easily erase it without leaving a trace...also paranoid woman but rightfully so.

Virginia - present

You adjust your shoe so as not to slip before going into the building and suck the shades into your pocket. The giant letters, I. O. D. S. stare back at you in Ariel font.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Just accept her death and move on.

Inside of Investigations of Death Services you nod to the secretary, an ex of yours, and continue on to your destination. While in the elevatored your vision feels blurry but now isn’t the time for tears. Arriving at your floor, you spot his office and walk in without so much as a knock or invitation.

“One second,” he speaks into the phone. “Can I help you?” His dark eyes look angry, like he doesn’t recognize you. You take a step forward, offering your closed palm to him. “What? What is this? A fucking magic trick?” You slowly open your palm towards him, revealing the silver clover pin. The suited man looks like he’s just seen a ghost. “Shane, I’ll have to call you back.” He hangs up the phone, then reaches from you hand. “Where did you get this?”

Snatching you hand back and putting the silver back in your pocket. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

He narrows his eyes on you before answering. “Can’t say I do.”

“Back in 03′ you knocked up Carin and proposed I go on assignment. Granted I was the only person who was fluent in Italian--or so I thought. Come to find out there were five other agents who could’ve been assigned there. You chose me because I was up for your job.” Your anger is boiling over quickly. “You were a shitty employee and they were ready to fire you.” You take a daring step forward. “Until you proposed infiltrating Valhalla with one of the foreign operative agents. You told them there were only two fluent agents. Back then we had never met but I knew who you were, Hell, we all knew how much of a screw up you were. Guess you don’t recognize me anymore? I mean in your defense its been years and I’ve lost a few pounds due to the stress you caused me but that’s for another day. How about we go back to 2003.” For a man with toxic masculinity issues, he looks pretty scared. “You couldn’t just out right suggest me so you have to offer up someone else. Coincidently Carin got pregnant right around the time she was starting her training, by you I might add, and could no longer go.” A wide smile starts to grow on your face. “Bet you were counting on my death, huh?” Awe poor baby seems to be shaking. “No...you’re too much of a pussy for that. I bet you were hoping I’d go to Italy and screw things up for the whole operation.” Now you’re toe-to-toe with him. “Mess up so bad that they’d have pull me out and demote me. Or! Reveal myself and hope Doyle’s men killed me or I’d go sprinting home with my tail between my legs.” His silence is starting to irritate you. “So which is it, Mark? Hmm? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry!” He yells with a reddened face. Out of the corner of your eye you see his co-works looking through his glass walls but you couldn’t care less. “I��m sorry, y/n. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything!” Now we’re getting somewhere.

You push the pin into his face “Where is she, Mark?”

“Where is who?” He’s still fucking shaking.

“Asking me another stupid question and there will be hell to pay.” You’re not really going to hurt him but considering the circumstances, this is justified. The man put your life on the line over some stupid position, a bit of threatening wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay okay. All I know is that after you left she was taken by ALPHA and later faked her death. When Lauren Reynolds died, Emily Prentiss got to go home and Ian Doyle went to a North Korean prison.”

“And now...”

“Last I heard she was working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI but was recently killed under suspicious circumstances.” At your expression, he continues. “We know she died during a scuffle with Doyle and there was a funeral but we are yet to have a death certificate on record. Sometimes it take anywhere from a week to a month for us to receive proper records on agent deaths. I thought that-”

“Stop, talking.” You cut him off through gritted teath.

Italy - Autumn 04′

“What is your problem, Lauren?” You’re out on the patio in front of the pool on a warm day. Lauren has a four course meal on the table, courtesy of the chefs.

“Nothing...” She shrugs with a mouthful of strawberry.

“You want me to leave.”

Another fucking shrug.

“Be serious.” You’re trying to stop yourself from stomping your foot.

She puts down her food and clasps her hands together. “Yes I want you to leave.” You watch as she gets up and smooths her skirt; taking your hands in hers. “Your time is thinning and you’ve been her a lot longer than me.”

“And leave you here alone? No way, I know you’re invincible but even Superman had his down fall.”

“Superman?” She loops you in closer. “Why not superwoman? Awfully sexist of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” You nudge her back a bit. “But wouldn’t you miss me?”

She gives you one of her wide smiles. “Let me show how much I’d miss you.” She leans in for a light kiss against your lips. You pull away quickly so as not to be seen. El, like the letter, picked out a blind spot that’s covered partially in shadows. “I have to leave in 15 minutes but until then...” She trails with a very telling expression.

“Where?” You laugh. “Not in the second floor bathroom again because that was...tight.”

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches upward, “And you were loud!”

You hop past her to sneak a grape. “Hey! You do know that was mine, right?”

“What are you going to do about it, Superwoman?” You turn to grab another grape, while doing so you feel her presence behind you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, L.”

“Oh why not?” She lightly trails down your backside. “It’ll be so much fun.”

You turn back to her. “Ten minutes?”

“In the library?” She smirks and you nod along.

Virginia - present

This four hundred dollar airplane ticket is going to serve its purpose but paying it back is going to suck. Your government salary was nice and all but $400 is still a lot.

Just two days before, you rushed around you place to pack all of the essentials for a quick flight to Paris; charger, hygiene, two outfits, and the pin all tucked into a stylish backpack.

That brings us here, standing in the streets of downtown Paris alongside the buzzing mopeds weaving through the streets. In front of you is the little café Elle would go on and on about, naturally this is the first place you could think to look.

You didn’t even know what you were looking for. The woman you fell for was a brunette with light curls and bangs.

You were looking for Emily. The woman Lauren introduced you to. The woman you grew to love in the same way you love Lauren, but Lauren is dead. Has been for awhile, now its time to find Emily. Your Emily.

You find nothing, no one who even slightly revels Emily on your first day there. So you find a hostel to lay your head in and continue on the next day. Again and again with the same routine for five days straight.

You wasted all of your time here for what? A memory? A dream? Two woman who no longer exist on the same astral plane as you?

That’s when you see it, a head of dark brown hair a few tables ahead of where you’re standing. With all hope lost you almost think its a mirage.

You sit a few tables ahead of her, careful to keep your face hidden. When the waiter comes around to take your order you give him very specific instructions.

Emily’s POV

Being a dead woman is lonely and isolating...at least the coffee is good. The waiter who dropped off the hot beverage not too long ago has circled back with a cheese croissant in hand. That’s odd, I hate cheese croissants. “Cette personne là-bas m'a demandé de te livrer ça.” That person over there has asked me to deliver this to you. He points over his shoulder to a person who’s face I can’t quite make out. “Ils m'ont également demandé de vous donner ceci.” They also asked me to give this to you. He reaches from his front pocket and softly places a silver clover pin that I haven’t seen in years, and a pressed Violet. I can feel the air drain out of my lungs at the objects in front of me. “Merci beaucoup.” The only person who knows what these objects mean are Doyle and-

At the sense of being watched my head shoots up at the source. At first there’s nothing there but then I spot the familiar figure. Its been weeks since I’ve actually seen them, it can’t be. I must be seeing things. Closing my eyes and taking in a deep breathe, I open them to see that they’re gone.

“Boo.” I hear in my right ear; looking up to see y/n standing beside me with a bright smile.

“You scared me!” Realizing how loud I am, I take a breath.

“Miss me Elle?” I left you behind, twice. I died twice without letting you know. You’ve had to start over too many times and its not far.

“Y/n, how did you find me?”

“Really, Elle. Did you really think I’d fall for that party trick you pulled at the BAU? I’m not dull, and besides,” Y/n/n gently puts their hand over mine on the coffee mug. “You’re my Superwoman, you’ll never die.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟ･*:.

@beyondprincess @confused-and-really-hungry @millipop18 @supercorp8388 @groovygoob @emilyprentisswife@covetedcoven @justaghostmonument @rabid-wild-misfits @nomit16 @afuckingshituniverse @mys2425 @fanfictionfangirl04 @aaron-hotchner187 @lisztomaniacalice @thestrawberrygirl @miidguardian-exe @criminalmindsmoodrn @ssacandice-ray @davidrossiismydad @garcias-batcave @ssaemxlyprentxss @andreaxxg13 @emilyprentissistoocute @mortallythoughtfulgurl @iamyouknow-yours @aesthbaby

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Run, Joey, Run! (A'whora X Joe Black) - Plegdoctor

A/N: Hiya! First time submitting on here so I’m a bit nervous but here we go! This is for the rarepair song fic challenge, based on the song Run Joey Run (glee cast supremacy). I hope you enjoy :) x TW for major character death.

Daddy please don’t, it wasn’t his fault, he means so much to me! Daddy please don’t, we’re gonna get married…

“Joe Black?”

His head shoots up in surprise at the sound of his name. He’s been at the table for so long that he thought, perhaps hoped, he might’ve become a ghost. Maybe everything would be easier to deal with then.

“That’s me.” His once melodic voice is now ever flat, an out of tune piano that would fall to dust if you pressed a key.

“Can I call you Joey?”

The girl is young – she doesn’t know, she couldn’t know. It’s not her fault that she’s enthusiastic, bubbly, and upbeat in a way that most teenage girls are. Assigning nicknames must be one of her favourite things when she volunteers here, something that all the other residents love and remember her for.

But his just brings pain.

“I haven’t been called Joey in a long time. It’s Joe.” He says firmly. She nods, undeterred, sits down with a flourish and crosses her legs. He can’t help but notice how full of life she is. She flips a blonde curl behind her shoulder, a simple gesture that snaps his heart in two. “Are you new?” He asks. Something about her seems so familiar.

She nods. “Yep. Saw the ad on Facebook and thought it would look good on my CV.” Her grin is mischievous and her honesty makes him smile. “Plus my grandma used to be in here before she died last year. I always liked visiting her. Do your family come here often?”

“I don’t have a family.”

“Really? No wife or children?”

“No.”

“Why?”

He grimaces. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“And a sad one.”

Her eyes soften and she places a gentle hand on his. He hasn’t told his story to anyone in a long time. Perhaps he’ll never tell it again.

She’s the right person to hear his tragic tale.

“It started when I was just 18…”

The rain is bloody miserable as Joe heaves a sigh. It was a silly idea and he knows it – no one wants to employ a gardener in February. His mum always warned him that this would happen. He can hear her voice in his head now: “Joseph, if you live your life with no plan then you will never get anywhere.”

He will never admit it, but she’s right. It’s hopeless. If only he had been proactive, done something sensible in school like his friends who are now becoming Lawyers and Doctors.

“But then I wouldn’t have met her.”

He goes to turn around, begin the long walk home, when he hears a tap from a window. He looks up at the house he’s in front of to see a girl standing in a window on the top floor. She shouts something and he shakes his head. She sighs dramatically and disappears.

He hates the people who live in these massive houses. That girl will probably never have to work a day in her life. Selfish, spoiled, little- The front door flies open to reveal her again.

“Hello there! Do you want to come in?”

He thinks for a minute that he’s misheard her.

“You what?”

“You’re soaked! Come in and get dry, so you don’t catch a chill.”

His acceptance is hesitant but grateful. Trooping around Brighton in sodden clothes and a failed business plan weren’t his plans for the afternoon, but neither was being rescued by this angel of a woman.

And that’s what she looks like. An angel. Her hair is long and blonde, caught up in a bun but the tendrils that escape frame her face so prettily. She’s got a pretty face too, pale with small features. Pink cheeks and red lips. If her house wasn’t an indicator of her class then her dress certainly would’ve been. Joe doesn’t know much about women’s fashion, but he’s lived with his mother long enough to know that she would gladly tear every hair out of her head to get her hands on that fabric.

“My father won’t be home for a while, he’s still at work. Here, come sit by the fire, I’ll fetch you some of his spare clothes.”

She runs off before he can say anything.

When she returns he is seated by a roaring fire, looking around the house with a sense of wonder. Her arms are full of clothes. “I don’t know your size so I just had to guess.” She frowns, handing them over to him.

“Uh, thank you.”

“You can change in the bathroom.’ She points to a door underneath the stairs. ‘I’ll be here when you’re done.”

The bathroom is small but overwhelmingly grand. Her grips the shining sink and laughs at the absurdity that is his life. He pulls the angel’s father’s jumper over his head. It’s made of soft green wool, soft on his skin in contrast to his jumper made of harsh material. The trousers are a good fit too. The girl has an eye for fashion.

He says this to her as he exits, watches the way her face lights up. “Do you really think so? I would love to go to fashion school.”

“But your mother won’t allow it?”

“I have no mother. It’s just me and daddy here.”

“I’m the opposite. Just me and my mum.” It’s bizarre to try to relate to someone like her. Someone who would’ve given him dirty looks in the schoolroom. Someone who has more than one bathroom and calls her dad ‘daddy’.

She laughs, the sound like silver bells. “We have so much in common already. But I don’t even know your name.”

“Joe. Or Joseph.”

She’s not satisfied with his answer, shaking her head. “That’s far too serious for you. Your voice is like… like music! You cannot say Joe in such a beautiful way.”

“What then would you call me?”

“Joey. Doesn’t it sound much more fun? Joey, Joey, Joey.” She sings.

He bites back a laugh. “And what is the name of my saviour?”

“Aurora.”

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Flirting has never come naturally to him. He doesn’t doubt that that certainly translates.

“What are you doing around these parts, Joey?”

He raises an eyebrow. Does she mean it judgementally? No, probably not, her tone is more inquisitive than anything. But he allows the silence to grow awkward before he answers. He’s rewarded with a flush that crosses her face.

“I’m looking for a job. As a gardener.”

“You don’t look like a gardener to me.”

“What do I look like?”

She shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

Joe uses the silence to look at her again. He’s been with girls before, kissed their rough chapped lips, laid his hands on their waists. But Aurora is incomparable. He wishes to take a million pictures of her, carry them around as inspiration. When artists talk about their muses, they are talking about her.

“This garden could do with a gardener.”

Her statement is unlike anything else she’s said so far. Shy.

“And would your daddy be alright with me coming to help you out?”

The way that her lips contort makes him think that she knows he’s mocking her slightly.

“He’ll have to be.” She replies lightly.

“I’m confused. You said you weren’t married. This sounds like the sort of story you tell your grandkids when they ask how you met.” She’s almost accusatory.

He shakes his head. “You’re too impatient. There are other oldies in here that like a short and easy chat. You’re welcome to speak to them.”

“No, I’ve heard the start, I need the rest of it. So Aurora hires you without her father knowing.’ She pauses and then grins. ‘Daddy has different connotations nowadays, did you know?”

“I have no idea what the youths say anymore.”

“I’ll teach you some slang next time. Anyway, what happens after she hires you?”

“I’d been working there for two years when she first confessed it to me…”

Employment under the Boyle family was like living in luxury. Joe showed up twice a week and worked for four hours. Aurora brought him a drink after the first two hours, and they would talk and laugh together for some time. He learnt more about her than he ever thought: She was the same age as him. Her mother died in childbirth. She missed her in a way, but never really knew her. Her life was devoted completely to her father whom she adored. She volunteered at the hospital, she wanted a little white dog, she loved fashion and often made her own dresses, her favourite flowers were lilies. He crammed so much information into his head that by the time they were twenty he could’ve written a book on her life.

There was something electric about her. The way she sang his name, “Joey” called across the (obscenely large) garden as she came out with a glass of cold lemonade. The brightness of her eyes and the ever-present blush in her cheeks. She possessed a vitality like no other.

The fact that he was deeply in love with her had not escaped his notice.

Such a shame that she would never feel the same way.

Until a summers day when the sun was beating down upon them. Her dress was white cotton, her hair was loose, her forehead shiny with a thin layer of sweat. “You know Joey, I really thought you would have noticed something by now.”

“And what would that be, Miss?”

“Oh don’t call me Miss, you know how that bothers me!” She cries out. Her delicate face contorts into a frown as he chuckles. “You are such a tease.”

“Oh no Aurora, don’t withhold this information! What should I have noticed?”

“Well it’s just we have spent so much time together over these past years I just… I thought men were meant to notice things like this.”

He squints at her. Her appearance has not changed, he would have noticed that. Every inch of her is burned into his mind. But he can hardly say that. “Are you wearing a new lipstick shade? Or is that your hair has been cut? Ah, I know, you have new shoes!”

She huffs and leans moodily against her chair, arms folded across her chest. “Daddy was right. Men really are dense. Must I spell it out for you, Joey?”

He opens his mouth to say yes but is cut off by her laugh. “No, you wouldn’t even get it then. Daddy said that if you want a man to know that you are in love with them then you should just tell them plainly. What do you think Joey, should I just boldly tell you that I am in love with you?”

The blonde across from him emits a squeal so high pitched that dogs 20 miles away must be howling.

“A bit of respect for my elderly ears please.”

“I’m sorry. That is so adorable! Oh she sounds brilliant, I think me and her would’ve been friends. What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She sounds outraged.

He smirks slyly and shrugs. “I just kissed her.”

He would never grow used to the feeling of her in his arms. It’s not that it felt unnatural. It felt like thunderbolts and lightening strikes, a wave of emotions flooding through him, a storm that left him breathless. Ivy sprouted when their lips met, thick vines that wound through their hearts, binding them together. His skin flowered under her touch.

She made him promise not to tell her father.

“Daddy wouldn’t like it. He likes you but as… as an employee.”

Joe understands.

He has no other choice.

Aurora is his precious jewel, a secret treasure that he must keep hidden from the rest of the world. He remarked to her once that he has never known any flower to bloom quite like their love does when shoved into a dark corner of a greenhouse.

She laughed and shushed him with a kiss.

Her lips taste like cherries.

Nature too powerful can be destructive.

A new life has begun.

His phone rings. The sound surprises him to his core – the fact that his wages brought a phone for him and his mum is something he will forever be proud of. He’s considering asking them to put the fact on his gravestone.

“Joey.” She’s whispering. He can hear sniffles that indicate the tears that surely must be running down her pretty face.

“What’s the matter, Rory?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“You can’t tell anyone. Oh my God, Daddy is going to kill me!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay darling! We can figure this out. We can solve this.” Joe has never forgotten the way that Aurora saved him that day when they first met. For two years he’s been hoping to repay her.

But he never imagined it would be like this.

The phone rings again. It sounds more urgent than any other time, despite being the exact same ring. He snatches it up.

“Joe, don’t come over. My dad and I, we had a fight, and he stormed out the door. I’ve never seen him mad this way, my God, he’s going crazy! He said… he said he’s going to make you pay for what we’ve done. He’s got a gun. So run, Joey, run, Joey run!”

He runs. Straight to her house.

He hammers on the door with the force of a hurricane. “Aurora! Rory!” He sounds unhinged, frantic, but he needs to see her. He needs to be sure she’s safe. The door flings open and she runs out. Her brown eyes are filled with tears and - oh no, oh God why? – there are bruises on her face. She flies into his arms where he holds her close.

All at once he sees him, her father, sneaking up behind them. Aurora notices too.

“Daddy please don’t, it wasn’t his fault! He means so much to me! Daddy please don’t, we’re gonna get married!”

Time moves in slow motion.

“He’s got a gun! Run, Joey, run!” She yells.

He lifts it to aim.

She steps in front of him.

Suddenly a shot rings out.

Aurora falls.

“No!” A guttural scream rips Joe in half. He catches her falling body, cradling her like a child. He looks down to find that his hands are red.

Her cherry red lips part. “Daddy, please don’t. It wasn’t his fault. He.. he means so much to me. Daddy, please don’t. We’re gonna get married.” Her breathing is laboured. The light in her eyes dims. “Run. Joey. Run.” She chokes out.

Tears fall down her face. She does nothing to interrupt them, letting them create a waterfall on her cheeks.

“I told you it was a sad story.” He says gently. His heart is heavy too. Telling his story never gets easier.

“She saved you again.”

He nods. “My guardian angel. My perfect angel Aurora.” He pulls a necklace from under his shirt. She leans closer to see a small angel carved out of rose quartz on a chain.

“Do you miss her?”

“Every day. When it’s rain or shine. When thunder crashes and lightening strikes. When waves surge in oceans. When storms dominate the air. When ivy wraps around buildings. When flowers grow. When I savour sweet cherries.”

“I’m so sorry Joe.”

“It’s been almost 70 years and my heartache has not loosened. But I know my angel is watching over me.”

The girl nods hurriedly, her soft hand still clutching his wrinkled one. A small bell goes.

“It’s time for you to go.”

She stands. “Thank you for sharing your story with me Joe.”

“Thank you for listening.”

He catches her wrist as she goes to turn away. “I don’t know your name. May I know the name of the girl who listened so carefully to my tragic tale?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Why not?”

She smiles softly. Tears still spill from her light brown eyes, blonde hair bounces on her shoulders. “Aurora. My name is Aurora.”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #uk2 #joe black #a'whora #a'whora x joe #fic challenge #m/f au #song fic #rare pair #plegdoctor #tw gun violence #tw major character death

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Read All About It! Pt 3 (Final)

Saturday morning Luz runs out of the house towards town. She's meeting Willow and Gus to hang out for the day and shop for some clothes. She’d tried on her clothes from the masquerade and realized with horror that her growth spurt over the last six months had grown her out of them, leaving the pants hanging a good almost two inches up her ankle, the same for her shirt, which now sat an inch above her wrist bone. There was no way she could go to dinner at Blight Manor like this; at least the vest and shoes still fit.

She needs to talk to her friends about tomorrow night’s dinner, maybe they can offer her some kind of pointers and help her shop.

The market is busy as it always is on Saturday, filled with the varied denizens of the Isles doing their shopping. Gus and Willow are waiting for her at the fountain at the center of the market. They see her coming and wave.

"Hey, guys!" She grins brightly at them and the two smile back, they can already tell that she is in a much better mood than the last few days.

"You look chipper, did something happen?" Willow asks.

"Amity's parents found out last night," she says and shocked looks replace her friend’s smiles.

"What?!" Gus yelps.

"And you're… happy?" Willow questions.

"Yeah, they didn't forbid her from seeing me! Her dad wants to meet me, I'm having dinner there tomorrow night," she explains.

"That's great, Luz!" She smiles.

"Hopefully, Lilith is gonna start giving me etiquette lessons when I get home, also I need to get some new clothes. I’ve grown out of the only nice ones I had, maybe you guys could help me pick out some new pants and a shirt?” she asks.

“Oh, shopping!” Gus grins. Willow laughs.

“Sure we can.” She nods.

“Great, let’s go!” She grins, taking off with the two witches hot on her heels.

They spend the morning poking their heads into different shops and suggesting clothes to Luz.

“What colors were you thinking of?” Willow asks as they wander through a fancy dress clothes store. The scaly, winged clerk watches them carefully, they are three teenagers in an upscale store.

“Well, I know Amity really likes dark reddish-pink colors…,” she says, looking at some pants.

“You’re trying to impress her parents, Luz. Amity couldn’t be any more enamored with you if you tried. If this wasn’t dinner with her parents, you could show up in that otter onesie and she’d still be happy to see you,” Willow chuckled.

“I still wanna look nice for my girlfriend…,” she pouts with a huff, making Willow roll her eyes.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in red then…,” Willow hums, sorting through some dress shirts hanging in a display.

“Yeah, like a dark, blood-red,” Gus agrees. “Something fancy and mysterious.” He wiggles his fingers. “Oh, what about a cloak?” he turns to Luz who brightens at the idea.

"Yeah!"

“Well, it is in fashion to wear a cloak…,” Willow concedes upon seeing their excitement. Normally she’d veto the cloak, but it is the fashion for formal events and gatherings, and if dinner at Blight manor isn’t a formal event, Willow doesn’t know what is.

Gus and Luz high five.

Willow makes a pleased sound as she pulls a shirt off the rack and holds it for the two to inspect.

“How’s this?” She holds up a deep, wine red button-down shirt.

“Ohhh, I like it. Let me try it on.” She takes it and disappears into the dressing room along with a pair of pants.

Gus and Willow wait for her to reappear.

"What do you think?" she asks as she steps out and spins in a little circle for them.

It fits her perfectly in all the right places across her shoulders and chest. The black pants go with the deep color.

"Lookin' fancy." Gus grins.

"Looks great, Luz," Willow agrees.

"Great, just need to get me a cloak and we can get out of here," she says before disappearing back inside the dressing room.

Gus and Willow wander over to the section where those particular garments are kept and begin browsing while they wait for Luz.

When she comes back they browse a little while, they're all manner of cloaks hung up on the racks in the most outlandish colors and styles. Some with feathers or scales sewn in, and even some with built-in shoulder armor that makes her grin. True, she still has the cloak Eda made for her out of witch's wool, but it is a little short on her now, and definitely won't go with her clothes. She's also not expecting any powerful spells to be thrown her way during dinner.

As much as her dramatic heart wants to go big, she knows that this is not the occasion for it. She's going for something a little more... respectable, than what she would normally choose.

Then something catches her eye. It's a plain black cloak, lined in a deep purple, and without a hood, it has a collar instead. What grabs her attention though is the little gold owl clasps attached to the chain that holds it closed. She pulls it off the rack and swings it across her back. It’s silky to the touch and sits comfortably heavy on her shoulders, and hits her in the back of the calves.

"Whaddaya guys think?" she calls to Gus and Willow.

"Oh, that's perfect, Luz," Willow says.

"Sharp," Gus agrees.

"Great, I think we're all done here then." She takes it off and bundles her items together as they walk up to the counter. The clerk hums, looking less suspicious of them now that they're actually buying something.

He rings it up and Luz balks at the price, but forks over the amount of snails begrudgingly. That was a heavy hit to her personal funds. If her parents allow them to keep dating, Amity is going to have to fund their dates for a while.

They spend the rest of the morning wandering around the market.

"Should I bring a gift? You're supposed to bring a gift for your host right? Or is that just a human tradition?" Luz asks.

"Yeah, but what would you even take?" Gus scratches his chin.

"Flowers are always a good choice," Willow suggests.

"I'll ask Lilith, she'd know…"

They part ways soon after, Luz scurrying home with her purchases.

She puts the bag in her closet, where Hooty can't get to it and hurries downstairs where Lilith is waiting, standing at the counter.

"Ready to get started?" she asks.

"I was born ready!" Luz grins and Lilith smiles.

"Very well, for this, pretend I'm the host and we're about to sit down to dinner," she says.

Luz walks up to the table and starts pulling out a chair, but stops when Lilith tuts at her.

"The first rule is to wait until the host has sat, or indicated that you may seat yourself."

"Oh… okay." She steps back and Lilith sits at the chair opposite from her and then gestures to it.

There is an array of silverware sitting in front of her, all mismatched since it is Eda's, but it was the best they could do on short notice. They still manage to scramble together a halfway decent example setup.

"Now… your meat fork?" Lilith asks.

Luz glances at the three forks for a long moment. They aren't labeled in any capacity and she hums before picking one at random and holding it up.

"No, that is your dessert fork," Lilith says before showing her the right fork.

This is going to be harder than Luz anticipated.

They spend the rest of Saturday carefully going over etiquette and which fork and knife are which.

Luz hums looking thoughtfully at the table for a second before picking up a fork and holding it up. She looks up at Lilith for approval, who nods.

"Yes, very good, Luz, that is your salad fork."

"Yes!" She grins and sets the cutlery back onto the table among the other forks, knives, and various place settings.

They've been at this all day and most of last night. It's Sunday afternoon and they're having a last run through. Luz will not stop until she gets it right every time. Her relationship with Amity hinges on making a good first impression, and not making an absolute fool of herself at this dinner.

"Now, when passing foods or condiments, which side do you pass to?"

"Offer to the left and pass everything to the right?" she says, unsure, but Lilith smiles and nods.

"Very good. Used silverware?" She asks, cocking a brow.

"Should never touch the table, keep it on your plate," she answers almost automatically. That had been her biggest problem when they started, constantly setting her fork back on the table.

"Correct," she says, walking around and tapping Luz under the chin. The girl sits up straight at the slight touch. "Remember, sit up straight, always."

"Right." She nods.

Eda watches the display from the kitchen island where she's mixing potions.

"This seems like an awful lot of work to eat…," she gripes.

"Be that as it may, this is what Luz needs to know if she is to make a good impression at this dinner. She's already going in looking unfavorable as a human, being associated with the two of us, you especially doesn't do her any favors either. The best she can do is be a picture-perfect dinner guest."

Eda sticks her tongue out but doesn't argue the point. Her reputation probably isn't going to help Luz.

They keep at it for a while until Luz has a perfect mock run of dinner.

"I believe you are as ready as you're ever going to be," Lilith declares by late afternoon and Luz grins and jumps up to hug the older Clawthorne.

"Thank you, Lilith. I gotta iron my clothes now," she says before running upstairs.

"So, what do you think?" Eda asks once Luz has gone upstairs.

"I think if she stays calm she will be okay." She nods, sitting at the table.

"Unfortunately that's a big 'if'...," she mumbles.

"We must have faith, for her sake."

A few hours later, she's freshly showered and dressed in her clean, pressed clothes and she's standing in front of the bathroom mirror carefully combing her hair back, it's really the only way she knows how to style it that looks decent at its current awkward length. She knows without her having to say it that Amity likes it like this and doesn't want her to cut it, and it's growing on her too, literally and figuratively.

She runs into her room and slips on her shoes and grabs her cloak, stuffing her glyph book, pad and pen into her pocket. She doesn't anticipate needing it, but once bitten twice shy. She feels better with its heavyweight in her pocket. She throws on her cloak pinning the small owl clasps so it hangs across her shoulders and hurries down the stairs where the sisters are waiting.

"How do I look?" she asks as they walk over to inspect her.

"Very nice, you wouldn’t be out of place at any formal event on the Isles." Lilith smiles, reaching out to straighten the skinny black tie around Luz’s neck, fussily.

"Pretty fancy, Kid." Eda grins, then notices the gold clasps on her cloak and reaches up to finger one of the detailed birds.

"Gotta represent the owl house and my owl mom." Luz grins.

Eda snorts but there's a distinct glaze welling up in her eyes.

"Pfft, get out of here already…" She gives Luz a gentle shove, trying to push down the emotions welling up in her voice as she shoves her staff into the kid’s hands. Lilith gives her a knowing look.

"Wish me luck, love you!" she calls and runs out the front door.

"Don't set your fork on the table!" Lilith calls as she flies off and they watch her go from the doorway.

She’s a little ahead of schedule, but she has to make a quick stop in town before she heads to Blight Manor.

Amity is so nervous she might throw up.

She anxiously smooths down any imaginary wrinkles in her burgundy and black material of her ombre, sleeveless dress before pinning her brooch to her chest.

She hasn't heard from Luz at all today, which is worrying, but she hopes Lilith was able to instill the basics of formal dining in her girlfriend over a short two days.

She sits in front of her vanity mirror, smoothing out her loose hair when a pair of green-haired heads pop in her door.

"Hey, Mittens, how are you doing?" Edric asks as they step inside to stand behind her

"Nervous," she admits, looking at them in the mirror.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Luz can be pretty suave when she wants to be,” Edric assures.

“I don’t think her charms are gonna work on mom and dad the same way they do on Amity…,” Emira mumbles.

"Have some faith in our future sister-in-law.” He grins teasingly at Amity, who scowls. She’s not in the mood. “As I recall, you thought she was pretty cute when we first met too." Edric grins wickedly, eyes sliding to his twin, and Emira's cheeks pink.

Amity's eyes widened as she whips around to look at them.

"What?!"

"What? That was like nine months ago! And you hated her at the time!" she reminds, pointing at Amity. "And that was before I started dating Viney."

"I didn't hate her… I just... didn't know what her deal was yet," she mumbled. Amity should probably be more annoyed that her sister thought her girlfriend was cute but fair, Luz is cute, and at the time they were barely acquaintances, and it had been a while. Emira would never try to take Luz from her.

She sighs and stands, smoothing her dress out once more.

"I need to get downstairs, I want to make sure I'm the one who answers the door…"

"Ah, right. She might turn tail and run if it's mom," Edric snickers and Emira elbows him as Amity makes a distressed sound in her throat.

“It’s gonna be okay. Luz knows how important this is, and we both know that girl would never run,” Emira soothes.

Amity makes an agreeing sound.

The three hurry downstairs, their father is sitting in the living room, while the sounds of one of the few house staff they keep cooking in the kitchen echoes in the room.

Her father is sitting in his armchair reading from a thick leather tome. Their mother is probably in their bedroom, deciding not to grace them with her presence until their guest arrives.

He glances up as they walk down the stairs, sharp gold eyes appraising the three of them.

Edric in his dark green shirt and black vest and pants, while his twin wears a knee-length dress the same color as his shirt.

Their father nods in greeting to them as he stands, laying his book on the arm of his chair, and walks over.

"You both look beautiful this evening,” he says to his daughter's before turning to Edric and reaching up to straighten his tie. "Very dashing, Edric." He nods.

"Thank you, father." The three echo with smiles.

Of their parents, their father has always been more sincere in his compliments. They certainly came more often than from their mother, who's breath was often spent criticizing and correcting more than anything. He wasn't around as often as her though, when he wasn’t at work he was holed up in his study, doing work.

He spies the brooch his youngest is wearing and can't recall ever seeing it before. He knows it isn't something he gifted to her, and Amity has never been one to buy such things for herself. It's a very pretty little bauble, he can spy its quality at a glance in the fine detail of the thorns and the cut of the tear-shaped gemstone.

He reaches out and gently touches the metal with his fingertips.

"Where did you get this, Amity?" he asks. She's surprised by the question.

"Luz gave it to me when we started dating," she said, smiling a little to herself. Alador does not miss this and hums.

A knock on the door makes Amity jump.

"I'll get it!" she says a little louder than is necessary, and rushes to the front door and takes a breath before opening it.

She's struck speechless by the young woman standing on the other side.

"Good evening, Miss Blight, you look beautiful as ever." Luz smiles at her and gives a little bow, staff in one hand.

"Oh," is all Amity can say, cheeks reddening as she's struck by just how attractive her girlfriend looks tonight in her wine-colored shirt and fitted black vest, pants, and tie, with the cloak hanging off her shoulders. She's struck by the sudden urge to run her fingers through the smooth, shiny, slicked-back hair.

Luz seems to notice the effect she has and her smile turns into a grin as she winks, snapping her out of it.

She then notices the bouquet of lavender flowers Luz is holding in one hand, but among them is a bright red Blood-blossom.

"What are the flowers for?" she asks, stepping aside to allow Luz to walk into the entryway and hang her staff on the hooks by the door.

"You're supposed to bring a gift for your host right? I got these for your mom," she explains. Amity tries not to be disappointed by that, Luz is right, and she's glad that Lilith seems to have taught her some things, how dinner will go remains to be seen.

Luz is an expert in reading Amity though, and smiles, pulling the single Blood-blossom away from the other flowers and holding it out to her.

"As if I would ever come to you empty-handed, mi amor." She smiles coyly, but the quiet words are almost a purr and Amity thinks she might die at the violent shivers it sends down her spine.

Edric was right. Sometimes Luz is too suave; usually without even trying, when she is trying the effect is lethal.

Now is so, NOT the time for this, but she doesn't let that stop her from taking hold of the single stem being offered to her and leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on Luz's lips; she has to force herself to pull back. An effort she isn’t sure how she manages.

"Thank you," she mumbles against them, before standing back up straight. "Are you ready?" she whispers.

"Gosh, I hope…," she mumbles, her confident persona falling away to show just how nervous she really is now that the moment is at hand.

"I believe in you, querida." Amity smiles at her with a confidence she does not feel. She knows her parents, and while she knows Luz, her girlfriend has a tendency to be a wild card at the worst of times. She kisses her cheek and Luz squares her shoulders.

She leads her back into the living room where the twins and Alador are waiting, Odalia has now joined them and Luz swallows thickly at the sight of the Blight parents. They stop in front of them, and gosh is Amity's dad tall.

"Father, Mother, this is Luz Noceda. Luz, this is my father, Alador Blight, and my mother, Odalia Blight," Amity introduces.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Noceda," Alador is the first to speak, holding out his hand. Luz quickly and discreetly wipes her clammy hand on the back of her pants under her cloak before reaching out to shake the much larger hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Blight," she says, trying to project confidence. That's what Eda told her to do.

Actually, her adoptive mother's exact words were 'be confident, but take no shit.' Luz is pretty sure that's not the approach she wants to take tonight if she wants to keep the love of her, relatively short, life. In fact, she's pretty sure she'll take whatever shit she has to and smile while doing it.

"Welcome to our home," Odalia says, it's noticeably a little stiffer than Alador's greeting, but Luz soldiers on. She already knows enough about the Blight family matriarch to know that this was where she needed to watch herself.

"Thank you for having me; these are for you." She holds out the flowers.

There's a flash of surprise in the older woman's eyes, but it vanishes almost as quickly as it appears as she takes the flowers from you.

"How kind, thank you."

Someone clears their throat and Amity only just manages to keep from rolling her eyes.

"And you of course already know my brother and sister, Edric and Emira." Amity introduces the twins with a bit of bite.

"Hey!" They both say, grinning.

Luz smiles and waves.

"Thank you for joining us tonight, Miss Noceda, Amity has told us relatively little, but I have heard some of you, I hope you can enlighten me somewhat this evening," Alador says, folding his hands behind his back as he looks down at her with stern, but curious gold eyes.

"Oh, well, I'll try." Luz smiles, unsure. She isn't sure what he's heard, hopefully, nothing too bad.

He nods, seemingly satisfied with her answer, for now.

A woman chose that moment to walk out of the kitchen and announce dinner was ready. Odalia nods.

"Sia, please take Miss Noceda's cloak, and put these in some water," The Blight matriarch tells the woman, handing her the flowers. She nods and walks over. Luz unclasps it and hands it to her.

"Thanks" she smiles at her. She looks at Luz curiously but gives a little nod.

With that, Alador and Odalia walk toward the dining room, and the twins both give her a thumbs-up as they follow.

She looks at Amity who smiles at her before they follow.

Alador sits at the head of the table, Odalia at the other and the twins on the left, Edric next to their father, and Amity and Luz sit next to each other on the right, with Luz sitting to the patriarchs right.

Luz wipes her hands on the legs of her pants as she glances at the table settings, it looks just like how Lilith had it set up at home, but the plates are a clean, shiny white, lacking and chips or worn away paint like Eda’s, and all the silverware matches. She follows Amity’s lead and takes the dark green napkin off her plate and sets it in her lap. She keeps them there nervously as she glances around at the dining hall. She’s been to Blight Manor twice now, but really only the living room and Amity’s room. The dining room is large and spacious, decorated in dark woods and gold embellishments that Luz can only guess is the current fashion of the Isles, or maybe it’s just Blight style; questions to ask Amity later.

She can feel Odalia’s eyes on her and tenses up as those olive-colored eyes judge her silently, but then there are fingers prodding gently at her hand in her lap, and without looking, turns it over to lace her fingers with her girlfriends under the table. Amity squeezes it comfortingly, for her and for herself, thumb running over her knuckles.

The same house staff from before comes out of the kitchen and sets the trays of food in the middle of the table and anxiety shoots through Luz.

She had been so busy thinking about the people at the dinner she hadn't thought about the food itself, she doesn't recognize anything on the table and is suddenly very worried about it.

After her incident with the numberries, she doesn't trust strange foods, and if ever there was a horrible place for her to have some kind of reaction it's here, having dinner with her girlfriend's parents for the first time.

Luckily she's never had any kind of reaction to meats, only plants, but she knows enough to know that it would be rude to only eat the meat, so she just has to hope, hope that at least if something happens it's something she can hide, like a rash. A trip out like the one had on the mountain would be the end of their relationship for certain.

The serving of food goes rather smoothly, the stuff Lilith had taught her about which way to pass and to offer things actually coming in handy. She’s actually thought that silly, but as she discreetly watches the Blights, that’s exactly what they’re doing.

It's only after they start eating that the oppressive, to Luz anyway, silence is broken by Alador.

"Miss. Noceda, Amity tells us you take all nine tracks at Hexside," he starts, looking at Luz, who looks back up with a mouthful and quickly swallows her barely chewed food and wipes her face like Lilith instructed.

"Yes, sir." Luz nods.

"Traditionally, students take one track to focus on so they may join that coven upon graduation. What coven would you be planning to join?" He looks at her curiously.

Luz knows to not say she doesn't plan to join one, since it's against the law not to, so she decides on another route, lying. Eda would be proud.

"Probably potions, since it’s my strongest subject,” she says and he nods.

“Amity mentioned you were the top student in the potions track, an impressive feat, especially for someone lacking a traditional aptitude for magic,” he says, carefully cutting his meat.

“Thank you.” Luz thinks this conversation is going well if the way Amity is squeezing her hand gently is anything to go by.

'you're doing great' is the silent message.

“From where on the Isles are you from? I find it strange that it’s only recently that we’ve heard of you.” It’s Odalia’s turn to ask a question. it has a certain edge to it that Luz can’t pinpoint, and she can’t decipher her girlfriends' suddenly harder squeezing or the twin’s glances, so she simply answers truthfully. She’s just going to have to roll the dice some tonight.

“I don’t, I came from the human realm, through a portal for the summer.”

“Summer has been over for some time, surely by now, your own family must be missing you?” Odalia asks, Luz is sure the question does not come from any kind of concern. It has a fake syrupiness to it that, had she not been paying attention, she would have missed, but she’s heard enough about Amity’s mother to know to be on edge and listen for the double meaning in everything.

“I’m sure my mom misses me, but the portal was destroyed in a… accident, so now I live with my mentor, near Bonesburough,” she explains, glossing over the whole, fighting the Emperor and destroying the portal bit. Odalia hums but offers nothing else.

“And how do you find life in the Isles compared to the human realm?” Alador asks curiously.

“Exciting, there’s no magic in the human realm, but dangerous, mostly.” She can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, the Isles certainly have their fair share of dangers, and potions don’t offer much in the way of offensive magic.”

“No, but I’ve learned a lot of spells I can fight with, I’ve probably done too much fighting with them,” she admits and Amity gently pinches her leg under the table, a warning to not say much more about her far too frequent battles. None of them would help them here.

Aladror sets his fork gently on his empty plate and regards her.

“Amity showed us some of your magic. A light spell, I was unaware you possessed any for more, offensive purposes.”

“A few, yeah.”

“We used some at Grom, to defeat Grometheus,” Amity speaks up and her father looks at her, eyebrows ticking upward at that.

“Splattered him into little chunks,” Edric speaks up and Emira nods.

Grometheus could be a rather formidable opponent, Alador was even more intrigued now.

“I’m rather curious about the capability of these glyphs, perhaps you would indulge me with a demonstration?” he asks, ignoring the pointed look his wife is sending him.

Like Luz could say no.

“Sure, I can show you some, what did you have in mind?”

“A witch’s duel,” he says, and had she been chewing, she would have choked. Edric is and does, while Emira looks at their father with wide eyes. Odalia is giving him a surreptitiously annoyed look behind her wine glass, seeming to know exactly what he’s thinking, and maybe she does.

Amity’s, eyes are wide and her hand is squeezing her thigh in a death grip, the message crystal clear.

‘DON’T’ it begs.

But Luz is no coward, and she came here with a mission objective, to impress the parents, and she isn’t going to do that by turning down the challenge. If she can impress Alador Blight with her magic then she’s going to seize the opportunity.

“Sure.” she nods.

Now Emira and Edric are looking at her from across the table like she’s lost her mind. Maybe, she has. Maybe, she’s just that crazy in love with Amity, and she’ll do anything to keep her, even at the risk of being killed by their dad. Odalia is also looking at her curiously, maybe trying to decide if she’s really that dumb or just ignorant.

“Splendid, come.” Alador smiles and stands from the table. Luz squeezes Amity’s hand under the table before she stands.

‘Don’t worry’

Dinner was over anyway as she followed him, along with the rest of the Blight family to the backyard.

He holds up a finger and a deep magenta spell circle appears and the backyard is lit up.

“This, of course, will be a mock battle. I’d like to see how your glyph magic works in practice against one of my abominations,” he tells her as they walk into the middle of the yard, the family remaining on the stone porch, and Luz relaxes some at that, so he wasn’t just trying to murder her. She knows she probably wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a real duel

“Ah, yeah, let's do it!” She grins, holding up a fist, and Alador smiles at her. Luz's grin does not last, as he spins a finger and a nine-foot-tall abomination rises from the ground to tower over her.

'Mierda'

“Okay then...” Luz turns serious, rolling up her sleeves, and pulls a few of her cards from her pocket.

“Are you prepared?” he asks.

“Ready.” Luz nods shoulders tense and knees bent.

The abomination dashed forward, and it’s much faster than Amity’s, where her girlfriends are sluggish, his runs. She barely manages to jump back out of the way as its fist crashed into the dirt, leaving a divot in the yard.

‘Okay, don’t get hit!’ is Luz’s prevailing thought.

Odalia sighs from the porch.

“I’m going to have to call the gardener back tomorrow…,” she mumbles to herself.

Amity bites her lip, fists clenched so hard her knuckles are turning white. Of all the different ways she had envisioned dinner going, this had never been one of them. Luz was going to get herself killed! Even if this was a mock battle for her father, he was still much more powerful than Luz.

Luz slaps a glyph to the ground and vines erupt from the ground, a few impaling the abomination and another growing up beneath her feet and lifting her out of its reach. The vines slow it, but then gelatinous body parts around them and reforms. It’s trying to climb up the vines toward her. She flings several fire spells at it, and it blows into a few large chunks.

“Whoo”

“Go, Luz!”

The twins cheer for her from the porch, despite their mother’s withering look.

Before she can even think to celebrate, the chunks slide across the yard and congeal back into a solid creature. It grabs the vine she’s perched on and starts violently shaking it, trying to fling Luz from them. She just barely hangs on while activating another plant glyph that snakes to the ground, letting her slide down to the grass, but she’s not any safer, back within the creature’s range, but she knows now what she needs to do.

She fires off another round of fire spells, blowing it back apart. She just needs a second. She pulls her pen from her pocket and starts rapidly drawing across the exposed skin of her arm. She manages to finish and tap it just as the creature is on her again.

Then, she’s gone.

The illusion glyph on her arm, turning her invisible. The glyph itself is still visible, but she knows for a fact that abomination’s don’t have the keenest sight, and it certainly can’t see the thin black lines that seem to float in the air. The creature looks around, groaning as she runs across the yard to put some distance between herself and it. Once she’s far enough away she pulls a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and quickly opens it, laying it in the grass, the paper is very much visible, so she breaks the circle on her arm and becomes visible once more.

It sees her and is quickly crossing the yard toward her. She waits till it’s nearly on her and slams a hand to the glyph and a portal blazes to life across the ground and she jumps in.

The abomination stops, looking down at the portal, confused, then a second portal opens above its head and Luz falls out with a loud battle cry, papers in hand.

She lands on its head and starts plastering as many glyphs as she can to it, it reaches up to grab her but before it can wrap a slimy hand around her, ice erupts from the many glyphs as Luz jumps off, hitting the ground with a thump, and rolling across the dirt, but quickly popping back up in time to watch as ice encase the abomination solid, becoming the world's ugliest ice sculpture.

Alador raised an arm, fingers twitching, but his abomination can’t move, it’s frozen solid.

Luz is victorious.

“That was so cool!”

“That was awesome, Luz!” The twins jog over along with Amity.

“Are you okay?” Amity is suddenly next to her, looking her over and she grins, some of her hair has fallen in her face but she quickly slicks it back into place.

“I’m fine, Amity.” She smiles reassuringly as her girlfriend pats away the grass and dirt from her clothes.

“You’re so reckless,” she hisses under her breath, glaring at her, but Luz can see the worry shining in her eyes. She grabs the hands brushing the dust from her clothes and gives a brief squeeze before dropping them.

“Very impressive, Miss. Noceda, truly,” Alador says as he walks over, spinning a finger and the abomination melts away along with the ice.

"Thanks!" She grins, standing proudly.

Mrs. Blight watches with a frown from the porch.

"I have a book in my study about ancient magics that I have personally never been able to glean much from, perhaps you would like to have a look?" he asks, Amity is surprised by this, few people are ever invited into her father's study.

"Oh, yes, please!" She grins, excited and he nods.

He turns, but pauses and looks at his daughter, who hasn't moved. "You as well, Amity, I certainly wouldn't wish to monopolize our guest, least of all from you," he says and heads toward the house. She looks up, blinking before she smiles and Luz grins at her.

"Come on, I don't think we're supposed to keep him waiting," Luz says and Amity chuckles, shaking her head as they follow her father to his study.

The twins and Odalia don't come to the study with them. Luz can sense there's some kind of dynamic going on here, but she hasn't quite figured it out. Alador clearly is in charge of the family, but Amity talks about him the least of her parents.

When they enter the room, she looks around at the tall bookshelves, filled to bursting.

"Quiet space filled with books…, you are a lot like your dad," Luz chuckles quietly, making Amity's cheeks pink. If Alador hears this he gives no indication, other than the twitching of his mouth.

He pulls a book off a shelf and it looks positively ancient as he holds it out to Luz.

“The chapter I’ve marked in particular is about abomination magic, it offers very little in terms of theory as it is taught today, it only speaks of the magics of the wilds and learning from the Isles.”

She opened it up and it’s filled with the same, indistinguishable writing from the other book Amity gave her that she’s been oh so slowly learning to decipher with Lilith’s help.

She carefully flips through the pages and spots some drawings that look very glyph like. She sets the book on his desk and digs her pad out of her pocket and carefully copies it down.

‘Please don’t let me blow up his office…’ Luz thinks as she taps it. It glows a dark purple and then a tiny abomination is looking up at her from the desktop.

“Abomination summoning glyph!” Luz breathed, grinning down at the tiny abomination that looked back at her with it’s tiny, glowing, yellow eyes. “Umm, how do I make it… do stuff?” She glanced at her girlfriend over her shoulder as she stepped up to the desk, still looking at the tiny abomination with wide eyes.

“It should be connected to your consciousness by magic… but since you don’t have a bile sac, I’m not sure,” she admits.

“You are its summoner,” Aladror says, and they look up, almost forgetting he was there. “Assert your will over it,” he says.

Luz hums, and blinks back at her little summoned creature and holds out a hand to it and does as she’s been told, she wills it to climb into her hand, and after a second, it does, albeit a little shakily at first.

Luz squeals, holding it up to her face.

“It’s so cute… for a goop monster, I mean.” she grins, turning to Amity.

“You finally made your first, complete abomination.” She grinned back excitedly.

“A tad on the small side, but Amity’s first abomination barely reached her knee.” Alador stroked his beard as he observed the six-inch tall muck creature standing in Luz’s hand. Amity blushed at that.

Alador seems to be much more openly curious about her magic after she summons the tiny abomination from the book in the glyph and asks her some questions she is only too happy to answer and she talks animatedly about some of her adventures in discovering glyphs, carefully omitting the parts that paint her in a bad light, like the part about borrowing Amity’s wand and accidentally shooting a Slitherbeast with a fire spell and almost getting her mentor and his two oldest children eaten by said monster.

It feels like she talks for a long time, but Alador seems to be listening intently, occasionally asking questions she can sometimes answer and sometimes can’t, while Amity adds her own bits and commentary, as well as groaning or rolling her eyes at her at all the appropriate times, and then the clock on the study wall chimed ten times, making Alador look up.

“I was unaware it had grown so late.” Alador stood from his desk chair. “You both have classes tomorrow and Miss. Noceda’s mentor is probably waiting for her.” He walked around the desk, shutting the several books he had and the two girls had been going through.

“Ah, right. I should get home.”

He leads them back out into the living room where the twins have been sitting with their mother, who rises when they reappear.”

“Sia, please bring our guests' cloak,” he calls into the kitchen and a moment later the woman returns with the black material, and Luz thanks her and wraps it around her shoulders as the Blight parents and Amity walk her to the door, where she collects her staff

She steps out onto the porch before turning to smile at them. Remembering what Lilith told her to do when she left.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Blight, dinner was great.”

“A pleasure, Miss. Noceda.” Alador gives a curt nod.

“Have a pleasant evening,” Odalia says.

“Goodnight, Luz.” Amity smiles at her in that soft adoring way that always makes Luz’s stomach turn to knots and she smiled as Owlbert’s wings flapped open.

“See you tomorrow, Amity.” She hops off the porch, onto the staff, and then is flying across the yard and over the gate.

"An interesting girl," Alador finally says after Luz has disappeared from sight and she and her parents moved back into the living room where her siblings are sitting on the couch, whispering to each other until they reappear. They sit up and look at them.

The suspense is killing her and she speaks up.

"So, can I... keep seeing, Luz?" Amity asks tentatively, drawing her father's gaze.

She and the twins wait on bated breath.

"Blight's only associate with the strongest of witchlings…, " he says as he looks at her, and Amity feels sick. She's heard those words before.

"... and humans," he adds. Amity sucks in a breath. "Your girlfriend is rather formidable for one so young, and knowledgeable in ancient magics, I'm impressed." He runs a hand through his beard thoughtfully. "If you wish, you may continue to see her," he says, not at all missing the way her face lights up with joy before she closes the short distance to hug him. He blinks, surprised for a moment before smiling gently at her and patting the top of her head.

Alador glances at his wife, who looks less than pleased, but he doubts she will protest, she fully believes that this romance of their daughters is a fleeting, doomed, affair already that will absolve itself in due time.

Time will tell.

Amity pulls back, trying to school her features into something calmer, but cannot for the life of her keep the smile off her face.

"Thank you, father."

He nods and turns towards the hall.

"I will be in my study, Miss Noceda gave me much to think about," he says before walking away. Her mother glances at her before sighing silently to herself and follows him.

Amity lets a smile break out across her face and then her siblings are wrapped around her, squishing their faces against hers, both grinning madly.

"Alright, Mittens!"

"Luz did it!"

Her smile breaks into a giddy grin. She did, she really did. Luz did what she thought impossible, she impressed her father and they were now free to openly date.

"I have to tell her!" She spells her scroll into existence, but Emira stops her.

"She's probably still flying home, give it a little bit so she doesn't fall off her staff mid-flight," she laughs.

Her sister is right. She'll wait a little bit, she's just so happy.

~ Luz is exhausted when she gets home, both from playing dinner party and her tumble off papa Blight’s abomination.

Eda is sprawled out across the couch, snoring when she walks in.” She smiles and twists Owlbert off the top of the staff, he hoots happily at her and nuzzles her cheek before he joins her, while Luz sets the staff in the corner and goes quickly and quietly upstairs.

She hangs her cloak back on its hanger and kicks off her shoes but instead of getting in bed, she opens the window and sets herself on the sill.

She sighs and loosens her tie, popping the top button that’s been sitting snug across her throat.

She’s exhausted and has school tomorrow, but more importantly, still has no idea how dinner went and whether or not she can still see her girlfriend. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, she did her best, the rest was out of her hands.

A few minutes later her scroll began to ring inside her pocket.

She dug it out and saw her contact photo of a smiling Amity on the front, wanting to video chat.

She quickly hit the button and she can see her girlfriend’s absolutely giddy face, smiling back at her from her bed.

“Luz, you are amazing!” is the first thing Amity says to her. “My dad said we can keep dating!” Luz grins broadly at the news, some of her exhaustion melting away to make room for elation.

“Yes!” Luz is grinning stupidly into her scroll. “I was afraid I got carried away there for a while, telling him stories,” she admitted.

“I think he really liked you. I can’t remember the last time he invited a guest into his study,” she tells her. “That being said, I don’t think my mom did…I don’t think she can see anything other then that you’re human.” she frowned, and Luz shrugged.

“Can’t win em’ all, right?” She didn’t need Amity to tell her Odalia Blight didn’t like her, she was an expert at telling when she was not liked.

“Right, the important thing is we can be together.” Amity smiled. So long as her father was on board, her mother wouldn’t say anything, not outwardly anyway.

“Yeah,” Luz smiled back.

“I need to go to bed, and so do you,” she said in a scolding voice that made Luz chuckle.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she laughed. “Goodnight, Amity. I love you,” she said, watching as Amity smiled at her in that certain way, gold eyes soft and warm, lids low.

“Good night, Luz, I love you too.” She blows her a kiss and Luz grins.

The call ended and Luz smiled to herself as she looked out her window as the moonlight bounced off the sea.

“Totally worth it,” she mumbled, hopping out of the window and shutting it.

#Moonlit Masquerade #lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #Alador Blight #Odalia Blight #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #Gus Porter #Willow Park #fic #the owl house #toh #gay

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

(Un)Requited - I.L IV

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i’m still working on the last part of this fic so i’ll probably only update again in a week or two!! sorry guys 💕

Things between you and Isaac had been weird ever since he walked away from you that day on the lacrosse field. His jokes were delivered a little more awkwardly, your laughter was a few seconds shorter, and whenever it felt like the tension was starting to dissipate, your phone would light up and Stiles’ name would be on your screen. Isaac hated it.

He hated the anger he carried around in his chest all the time. He hated how jealous he was of Stiles. Most of all, he hated that his relationship with you was fucked because he couldn’t get over a stupid crush. Sure, it was a crush he’d had since he was ten, but it was just a crush. He shouldn’t have let it, for lack of a better word, crush him like this.

Isaac was busy shoving some books into his overpopulated locker when he felt a very familiar tap on his shoulder.

When he turned, you were beaming at him with such warmth and familiarity that Isaac forgot that things were weird between you for a second. “Guess what.” Your voice barely contained your excitement.

“Greenberg walked into a locker again?” Isaac asked, deliberately stalling to keep you around him a bit longer.

You laughed and shoved his arm playfully. “No, silly.” You made the booklet of paper in your hands dance and pressed it into his hands. Your hands were cool to the touch. Probably guessing that he was paying more attention to the physical contact than whatever was on the paper, you pointed to the top corner of the page and said, “Look!”

Isaac repressed a laugh but he still smiled at you before looking down at the paper. It was an algebra test with a B+ in big, red block letters and an extra credit assignment with a perfect score. “No way!” Isaac grinned and pulled you into a hug. “See, I told you that you could do it!”

Your arms wrapped around his waist and you laughed into his chest. Slowly, you looked up at him and tapped his chest lightly. “Yeah, but I never could have done it without you,” you said.

For a moment, it was like the whole world slowed down, leaving you and Isaac alone in the quiet hallway. Isaac almost could have sworn your heart was beating as fast as his was, but that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no reason for your heart to beat faster because of Isaac.

But Stiles showed up before Isaac had a chance to figure out why your heart was beating like that and you pulled away.

“Hey.” He drew the word out in that annoying voice of his. Stiles was unusually easy-going considering that he hated Isaac and he was dating you, and the two of you had been tangled up not even a moment before. “What are we celebrating?”

You'd pulled away from Isaac so that you were only holding onto him with one hand, just barely around his lower back, as you handed Stiles your test. “I’m almost an A student. You know, I’m thinking of changing my career goals from trophy wife to mathematician.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You could totally be a trophy wife and a mathematician,” Stiles said with an aggravating smile. He was so good at saying stuff like that that it drove Isaac up a wall.

You laughed and pretended to be offended as you grabbed your test back. You let go of Isaac to harass Stiles but you soon enough you were laughing and nestling yourself under Stiles’ arm. His fingers interlaced with yours easily as you said something equally charming and witty to him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled at you. His thumb grazed yours as he tilted his head down, almost bumping his forehead into your head. “You sure I can’t convince you to grab lunch with me and Scott? We could ditch Scott.”

You let out a self-conscious laugh and ducked your head. “As tempting as that offer is…” you untangled yourself from Stiles and took a step back from him. “Isaac and I have a date with some suits.”

Not that kind of date, Isaac reminded himself as he gave Stiles his best attempt at a friendly smile. Judging by Stiles’ reaction, it came out as more of a grimace.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Stiles scratched the side of his face. “Cutting the dance prep a little short, aren’t you?”

Isaac straightened up and tried to get the venom out of his voice. “Yeah, well, we had some unexpected interruptions. You don’t mind though, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles said, not sounding defensive, exactly, but definitely not as easy-going as before. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand as he said something about catching up with you later.

You took a deep breath and ran your hand through your hair as Stiles disappeared into the sea of hormonal teenagers. “So-” you stepped closer to Isaac and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Ready to go?”

If Isaac was honest, he’d tell you that the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was go shopping for a suit that he didn’t want to wear to a dance he didn’t care about, but he couldn’t be honest with you - not about his feelings, and not about this dance - because you were trying.

Isaac wanted to try, too. He really did, but Isaac's problem was that he wasn’t as good as you. Then again no one was as good as you, but still. Isaac had to try or he’d lose you again.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The closing of Isaac’s locker punctuated his lie better than his smiling grimace ever could.

If you noticed his bad mood - which might have been difficult considering how Isaac was almost always in a bad mood these days - you were nice enough not to mention it as the two of you made your way through the school to the parking lot. Instead, you told him more about your classes and how Greenberg did, in fact, walk into a locker earlier that day.

There was an anxious lilt to your voice as you talked about your English paper that Isaac didn’t recognize. Sure, he’d seen you be nervous before tests and that first day in the hallway, but this was different. That had been unsure while this was second-guessing. That had been butterflies, and this was a sinking feeling.

Isaac couldn’t wrap his head around what could have been making you anxious. You were happy about your grades, you’d been excited about your parents leaving you home alone so they could check on Alex for the weekend, and you had Stiles. With all that, plus the dance coming up, you shouldn’t have been anxious.

And yet there you were, mumbling curse words under your breath when people cut you off on the road and hiding a frown behind a tight smile as you pulled into a parking space.

You killed the engine and sighed as you turned to Isaac. “Hey, so I’ve gotta tell you something about Stiles-”

“Why are we outside a thrift store?” Isaac asked as he peered through the windscreen.

The store was cute. Bright sunflowers painted next to yellow letters that swirled together to spell ‘Anne’s Next to New Clothing and Trinkets.’ A white table with a flower arrangement and some of the aforementioned trinkets. Through the window, Isaac could make out a little girl trying on about a dozen necklaces while her dad apologized to the person behind the counter. Cute, but it didn’t make sense.

Isaac turned to look at you when he realized that he’d interrupted you and you probably thought he was the most self-absorbed idiot in the world. You were staring at him with wide eyes as if to prove his point.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Your surprise melted into a nervous laugh and you dropped your gaze for a moment. When you looked back at him, your smile had softened into something smaller, something more genuine. “Since our mall trip ended so badly, I thought we could try something else.”

Isaac gave you a lazy smile and nodded his head to the store. “Something next to new?”

You scrunched up your face and groaned, putting your face in your hands. “Ugh, this was a dumb idea, wasn’t it? We can leave. Give me a sec to pull out-”

“No. No, that’s not what I meant-” Isaac reached over to grab your hands before he realized what he was doing. With one touch, it was like you erased the entire world that existed outside your car. It was just you, Isaac, and a whole bunch of electricity. “I just meant,” he said quietly, “that it was really nice of you to do this for me. I’m not really used to people doing nice things for me.”

“Well, get used to it because I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. Your words were quiet but your smile was playful. “Come on.” You tilted your head to the door and pulled away.

Isaac tried to get his heart to beat normally again as your door clicked open and thumped close behind you. He took two deep, steady breaths, then shook his head and met you at the front of your car.

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you waited for him. With a nervous smile, you led Isaac inside. The bell chimed as you opened the door, ringing in Isaac’s head as you greeted the cashier, and Isaac went on the awkward defensive again. He ran his hands along the swaths of fabric as the two of you made your way through the store. Felt, polyester, cotton, and wool greeted his fingertips until Isaac stopped in the formalwear section.

Old dresses mixed with a bizarre assortment of wedding attire and four suits, two with three pieces and each a different color to the last. Isaac took his eyes off the suits to find you trying to hide your glances at him. Isaac didn’t bother to hide his amusement at your secrecy.

“What?” You laughed when you caught Isaac waiting for you to steal another look at him. You tucked some hair behind your ear without thinking about it.

Isaac smiled, stifling another laugh. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you want to.” You looked at Isaac with an expression he couldn’t place. Friendly, playful, but just as he tried putting a better word to it, you looked away. Turning your attention to a gray suit, you waved Isaac over. “What do you think of this one?”

Isaac sighed as he made his way over and tilted his head to get a better look at the suit. “I mean, it’s not terrible,” Isaac said, running his hands up the lapel.

You laughed and bumped your arm into Isaac’s. “Well, high praise for this one aside,” you teased, “maybe we should find something a notch above ‘not terrible’ for the big night.”

“Whatever you say,” Isaac said with a smile. The one suit was a baby blue, which instantly struck it out of Isaac’s book and left him with two black options. Boring, yes, but that’s what made them safe.

Nevertheless, you ushered Isaac into the changing room with his two boring suits and made him promise to take his time so you could try and pick something out for yourself. The thought of you waiting for him made Isaac’s stomach lurch, but he still promised to give each suit a fair chance.

The first suit was a slightly snug; not awful looking, but not the most comfortable. If Isaac was going to be wearing this thing all night in a crowd full of sweaty teenagers, then he was going to need something with a little more breathing room for his inevitable panic attack.

So, shoving away the thoughts of how ridiculous this whole thing was, Isaac changed into the other suit. The button-up was missing a few buttons but he could sew new ones with minimal effort. It fit better than the other one had and didn’t cut off his air supply. Plus, the waistcoat somehow made him look less like a scrawny kid playing dress-up and more like someone who actually had it together.

Looking at himself in this suit, Isaac could imagine himself as the kind of guy you’d have feelings for. Not a guy like Stiles because that would make him throw up, but someone charming. Maybe even eloquent. The kind of guy that didn’t live in his older brother’s shadow or own three different copies of Persuasion (one was a library book he forgot to return, one had been his mom’s, and the other just had a nicer cover than the rest).

In this suit, Isaac had a nicer cover than he usually did.

Realizing that he’d probably spent like five minutes just staring at himself and twisting one of the broken buttons, Isaac raced to get changed. He threw the suit to the side and jumped into his jeans and pulled on his baggy gray t-shirt. Isaac was in the process of pulling on his hoodie and forcing the suit back onto its hanger when he stepped out of the changing room and almost knocked you off your feet.

Reflexively, Isaac grabbed you to keep you from falling over. He stammered out several apologies as his heart exploded, but all you did was laugh.

“It’s okay, promise,” you said with a smile. You held onto Isaac as you got back to your feet. After several seconds of awkward silence, you asked, “So did either of them come out ‘not terrible?’”

“Uh, yeah.” Isaac held out the crumpled suit to you. “This one’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad,” you echoed, taking the suit from Isaac and smoothing it out. “We’ll take it!”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh. You were adorable and very, very far out of his league. Still, he hung up the rejected suit and met you at the counter to pay.

He was so preoccupied with thoughts of accidentally injuring you that he didn’t notice that you’d already bought something. When Isaac asked about it over celebratory frozen yogurt, all you said was that you needed something for the dance, too.

---

Isaac had never been someone with high hopes. He’d given up on anticipating the future ever since he was thrown into a grave and turned into a werewolf; but, still, he found himself with some very unrealistic expectations of how the dance would go. Chief of which being that you’d ditch Stiles and confess your undying love to Isaac.

Actually, not ‘undying’ love because the universe might take that as a sign to make you immortal or something, and that kind of information wasn’t something Isaac thought he could recover from.

His other expectations, supernatural dilemma aside, were to get through the night without bleeding and to, maybe, hopefully, get to dance with you before leaving early.

Two very simple hopes that went unfilled.

First, Stiles was an asshole and hung around you the whole night. His presence made it impossible for Isaac to talk to you about anything other than the decorations and, if that wasn’t annoying enough, Stiles barely even looked at you. You didn’t mind and Erica didn’t even seem to notice his staring, but Isaac noticed. Isaac minded.

Seeing as it was unlikely that any declaration of love, undying or not, was going to made with Stiles Fucking Stilinski jumping around like a kid on a sugar high, Isaac excused himself to get something to drink and maybe punch a wall. You seemed disappointed - not at the wall punching, because Isaac didn’t mention that, but at his leaving. Still, you let him go with a smile nonetheless.

Isaac smiled, too. It felt like all he’d been doing the whole night was smiling, even when you gave him your sympathies about Erica not being his date. He was going to explain everything to you right then and there when Stiles had shown up with his stupid hair and frustrating jokes.

The punch had a sharp, bitter taste that wasn’t there at the beginning of the night and Isaac pulled a face. His dislike of alcohol wasn’t because he was worried about getting drunk (his supernatural metabolism made sure that was never a possibility), but because he just didn’t like the taste. Thanks to his dad, he’d been around the stuff long enough for it to lose its appeal.

Dumping his glass in a potted plant, Isaac turned back to survey the gym. He’d just spotted you in the crowd when Erica and Boyd materialized on either side of him. Erica grabbed his now empty cup and threw it to the side.

“Hey!” Isaac whined.

“We have to go,” she said in her black and blue voice. “Derek needs us.”

Of course, he did. Heaven forbid Isaac had one night free from Hale drama. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Boyd repeated. “The hunters are making their move and Derek says there’s another wolf pack. He can’t take them all by himself. Sorry, man.”

Erica put her hands on Isaac’s shoulders and steered him towards the dance floor. “So go tell your sweetheart that there’s a family emergency and meet us outside, okay?” She shoved him into the floor before Isaac had the chance to argue.

Isaac wasn’t sure where you came from, but you caught him before he landed on his ass, at least. Your face was full of concern as you helped Isaac stand back up and asked what was going on.

Casting a look over his shoulder, Isaac couldn’t find Erica or Boyd. They were already on the move and Isaac didn’t have time to explain everything. “I’ve gotta go,” Isaac interrupted you. He let out a breath as he turned back to you. Then, with a painful smile, he added, “Family emergency.”

“Oh,” you said. You blinked hard as you thought of something else to say. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, Erica and Boyd are already outside,” Isaac said. It was hard for him to focus on you over the sound of the music and his beating heart. “I, uh- I’ve had a lot of fun with you these past few weeks. Thanks.”

You nodded, looking down at your intertwined hands for a second. You gave his hands a squeeze. “Me too,” you said. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Monday,” Isaac lied with a bittersweet smile. He decided, since he was most likely going to be killed in the woods in seventeen minutes anyway, to do something that he’d never dreamed possible.

Letting go of your hands, Isaac stepped forward and kissed your cheek. He disappeared before you had the chance to say anything.

If the night had ended there, it wouldn’t have mattered much that none of Isaac’s hopes had been met because at least he’d gotten to kiss your cheek. The problem was that, like most nights, it didn’t end when Isaac wanted it to.

The night kept going, and Isaac got shot with arrows and electrocuted with arrows and mauled by some out of control werewolves. He’d lost Erica and Boyd somewhere in the chaos and he’d never even found Derek to begin with. The night kept going, and Isaac was bloody and alone.

He couldn’t go back to the loft, purely because he wasn’t strong enough to make it there. He had no idea where the root cellar was. The night kept going, and Isaac was bleeding out with nowhere to turn.

Still, he ran.

Isaac had survived so much in his short time on this goddamn bitch of an earth, and he wasn’t about to give up because his spleen had ruptured or because he had no idea where he was. No, Isaac ran because - despite everything - he wanted to live.

He ran and ran until he eventually found something familiar. Unluckily, it wasn’t the hospital or the animal clinic but your house. Isaac would have kept running if he thought his leg could make it, but he knew they couldn’t.

So, Isaac made the agonizing journey up to your front door. He rang the bell. You’d just opened the door, and all Isaac managed to get out was: “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And then he collapsed.

Part 5

Tagged: @lettherebelovex @britty443 @ietss @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @chocolate-raspberries @jellybelly-jones @f1nal-g1rl

#i watch teen wolf for the plot #teen wolf #(un)requited #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fanfiction

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

CURSED: CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Accusing, Denying”

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: a new person arrives, Kai gets jealous

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

Masterlist | series Masterlist

School was starting again, and Mack was loosing her shit. It was the first time that the reality of Ben's death had truly dawned on her.

But not in the way you'd expect - she wasn't guilty, nor was she upset. No, she was anxious and terrified about people finding out what she had done. They would notice, after all - who doesn't show up for the first day of school when every student either wants to be them or fears them? There's no logical reason as to why Ben wouldn't be there, Mack thought.

Except he's dead, she thought.

Mack took a deep breath, composing herself as she pushed open the front door, shouting a goodbye to her dad before letting the door slam shut behind her. The rumble of Kai's car engine echoed in the chilly January morning air, Mack's breath forming a little cloud before her at how cold it really was. She reached the black Jeep, wrapping her fingers around the handle and pulling the door open.

"Nice car - I see you've really done a lot to it over the Chris holidays!" Mack drawled and Kai smirked.

"Thank you for noticing! I went to this new place - I think it's called something like 'my girlfriend is a raging bitch who turns into a werewolf' or something like that." Kai smiled brightly back, sarcasm dripping from their words like syrup. Mack shook her head with a little smile, rolling her eyes as she plugged her seatbelt and dumped her bag on the floor by her feet.

"Whatever." She laughed, smiling happily against Kai's lips as he pulled her in for a languid kiss.

"Good morning." He mumbled against her lips as he pulled back, voice still slightly rasping and making a small shiver rattle its way down her spine and straight there.

"Morning." She murmured back, barely aware of Kai's amused smirk as he figured out what happened.

"I'm warning you now, Malachai Parker - this month will be one hell of a ride." Mack mused.

"And why is that, Princess?" Kai asked with a sickly sweet grin.

"I thought I told you no to call me princess." Mack deadpanned and Kai smirked.

"And I thought I told you not to call me Malachai." He shot back and Mack huffed. "So why is this month going to be one 'hell of a ride'?" Kai asked again and Mack smirked at him this time, causing one of Kai's brows to shoot up.

"I was checking dates, and it turns out - the full moon isn't the only cycle you'll have to worry about this month." Mack grinned and Kai's eyes widened, a hollow groan emitting from his plump lips.

"They're happening at the same time?" His eyes bugged and Mack nodded, smugness plastered on her face.

"Yep." She countered, popping the 'p'.

"Fucking cycles." Kai muttered under his breath, begging to pull out of Mack's drive way and making her laugh. Mack's head snapped up at the sound of rustling and she instantly rolled her eyes.

"Pork rinds? Really? It's fucking 8am!" She exclaimed as Kai popped one into his mouth, chewing nonchalantly threw a smile. "God, you are unbelievable sometimes." Mack scoffed, leaning back into her seat and listening to Kai crunching the rest of the drive to school.

...

Mack and Kai wandered to their lockers once they reached the school, Kai leant against his while Mack rummaged through hers - clearly trying to find something.

"What have you lost?" Kai asked, trying to hide his amusement as Mack nearly threw some book on the floor in frustration. She groaned, slamming her locker door shut and looking at Kai.

"My sketches! The book filled with everything I was going to use to get a scholarship!" She exclaimed, rubbing her forehead with stress. Kai stood up at this, now concerned because he knew how much she cared about going to college.

"Well maybe you took them home?" He suggested and she shook her head.

"No, I definitely left them here." She mumbled, now looking around them to see if someone had stolen the book or something. She froze when a whisper reached her ears though.

"Have you seen Ben? He hasn't contacted me since before Christmas." Someone Mack recognised to be one of Ben's friends asked another guy worriedly.

"Don't worry yourself, man. He's probably black out drunk somewhere or hanging out with some chick. Chill." The other guy responded, grabbing a book out his locker before letting it swing shut, and Mack let out a heavy sight of relic as the walked off. Then her eyes landed on something and she seethed.

Mack stormed over to the clearly obnoxious boy, fists clenched and face red as she walked over to him.

The guy was tall - nearly taller than Kai - with wisps of curly blonde hair fluttering over his forehead and the rest piled messily on top of his head like a mop of curly wool. His eyes were dark, so dark the nearly looked black (a stark contrast to Kai). But even from where she was Mack could see he was muscly, with thick arms and most likely a toned stomach, but for now he was clad in baggy jeans, a lose fitting t-shirt and a faded blue denim jacket - with pulled out and distressed seems. Overall he was the opposite of Kai, who had darker, straight hair; deep steel-blue eyes, and was quite scrawny and slim (that didn't mean he wasn't still a beast in bed). Kai also opted for leather jackets, much darker jeans, often black, not blue, and band t-shirts - AC/DC, Nirvana etc.

When she reached him Mack slammed her hand into the lock beside him, the metal door slamming shut and catching the distracted boy's attention.

"Hey, you have something mine." Mack demanded bluntly, eyes narrowed at the large sketch book clutched in his left hand. The guy looked down - following her gaze - and held the book up.

"Oh, this? I didn't know it belonged to anyone. It was only ok the floor when I found it." The guy shrugged, before leaning in. "But I'm sure we could arrange something so you could get it back." He said, almost seductively, but Mack merely snorted.

"That's won't be necessary. You're going to give me my book back and I'm going to go back over there to my boyfriend, while you piss off and find another girl to bother." Mack said with a sweet smile, pointing behind her to Kai who was still stood at their lockers, jealousy in his eyes as he watched the whole thing from afar.

"I think you should give me a kiss first, after all, I did pick up your book, rather than let it be trampled on." The guy smirked, leaning down again so that his lips her beside Mack's ear and his eyes were on Kai. "And if you're lucky maybe I'll have you screaming later." He whipped and Mack pulled back, a shiver going through her.

"Give it back." She demanded, but he held it above her head.

"Not until you give me a kiss, sweetheart." The guy chided and Mack sighed a frustrated groan. She leant up quickly on her toes, pecking the guy's lips so quickly before grabbing her book from his hand and instantly grimacing, wiping her lips and turning back to face Kai.

What she saw scared her, his nostrils flared and face red as he watched the scene before him.

"I think your boyfriend's a little jealous." The guy mused in Mack's ear, head at the side of hers as they both watched Kai slam his locker shut.

"Come with me." Mack demanded, grabbing the guy's bicep and dragging him along with her.

Mack pulled the boy into the first empty room she found, hand clasping his wrist tightly as she pushed past the tables and chairs before forcing him to sit.

"What the hell was that?" She seethed, a dangerous glint running her eyes. The boy laughed, smirking nonchalantly.

"What? I was saving you! That punk doesn't deserve an ounce of your respect, damn it!" The guy defended, raising his hands in surrender when Mack tried to hit him.

"Save me? Of for God's sake! I don't need saving, Kai isn't going to hurt me!" Mack was doing everything in her power not to rip the boy's head off.

"That's not the was Kim explained it!" He exclaimed and Mack groaned.

"So Kim sent you?" Mack seethed and the boy nodded. "Who are you? What's your name?" Mack demanded and he chuckled.

"Feisty one, you are." He mused and Mack's gaze darkened.

"What's. Your. Name?" She spat through gritted teeth.

"Shawn." He said and Mack nodded.

"Well, Shawn, you can tell my sister that I don't need watching-"

"So that you can kill another of her boyfriends? I don't think you." Shawn said and Mack rolled her eyes.

"I didnt kill anyone!"

"You and I both know that's a lie." Shawn whispered, now stood up and caging Mack against the desk, his breath fanning over her cheeks as he spoke.

"Kenz?" Kai's voice grabbed her attention and Mack's head snapped up, looking at Kai her eyes soften.

"Kai!" He slowly made his way into the room and Shawn snooped off, slipping past Kai.

"I'll leave you two alone then." He commented before Kai help up a hand.

"You're not going anywhere." Kai's eyes were burning, he looked like the epitome of rage. "And you." Kai said pointedly, looking straight into Mack's eyes, "better explain who the fuck that is, right now." He seethed, pointing at Shawn but not taking his eyes off of Mack and she glanced never pushy between them.

"He's um, a friend of Kim's..." Mack stuttered and Kai scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Who is he?!" Kai demanded, slamming his hand on the desk next to Mack and making her jump.

"No one!" She yelled and Kai's nostrils flared, his face red.

"Oh really." He replied bluntly and Mack looked at him in shock.

"Yes really! If you have a problem, then tell me!" She dared and kai stared her down, his gaze flitting to Shawn momentarily.

"I'd better not keep you, your boyfriend's waiting." Kai spat, a dark glare overcoming him as he glanced at Shawn, who was loitering awkwardly in the door way, not really sure what to do. Mack followed his gaze for scoffing.

"He's not my boyfriend! I hate him!" Mack claimed and Kai looked away, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever." Kai dismissed.

"Kai!" Mack exclaimed.

"What?" He shot back dryly.

"Stop!" She shouted as he began to walk towards the door, ready to shoulder past Shawn.

"Why?" He bit back, pausing but not turning to face her.

"Because I love you, you idiot!" Mack's words made Kai's jaw clench, his eyes cloud with anger as he looked from Shawn and back to Mack again.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you got yourself a little lap-dog, huh?" Kai sneered before pushing past Shawn and put into the throws of students busily shuffling through the crowed halls, disappearing into the mass of people.

Mack set her jaw, tears staining her eyes and she looked over a Shawn. A dark look was in her eyes as she walked past him, too.

"Mack, wait!" He called after her but the girl was already gone.

...

Mack's fingers drummed against the tabled restlessly, head turned away from Kai who sat beside her. He would huff every thirty seconds, shorting her a dirty glance before looking away again.

The door opening made Mack sit up straight in her chair, as nothing interesting ever happened in this class. Normally her and Kai would entertain each other but as the boy refused to speak to Mack, it was proving a very dull lesson.

Three men in uniform strode in, guns in the belts at their hips and walkie-talkies strapped over their chests. "POLICE" was written in white over their backs and the word made everyone switch on, murmurs and whispers floating around the room like a wave. Mack noticed Kai straighten up at this too, Mack's stomach dropping as she tried to swallow the guilt.

The tallest of the three men cleared his throat, turning to face the class while his two colleagues spoke quietly to their teacher.

"Hello, students. I am Officer Moore," he spoke authoritatively, "and today I am here to tell you something that may be...shocking." There were whispers floating about. "So," he said a little louder - grabbing the students' attention, "if you all quiet down, we'll get to business."

Mack's leg was bouncing furiously under the table, hand clenched into a tight fist and she bit her lips to stop herself letting out a sharp gasp at the pain of her nails digging into her sweaty palm. Kai reached out for her hand, uncurling it and holding it tight in his own, clearly not bothered about the little crescent-shaped cuts that were now leaking blood. The gesture calmed Mack, and she soon settled, the feeling of Kai's skin on hers comforting.

"We are here to tell you that Ben McCoy," he paused, murmurs erupting around the room at the mention of Ben, "has been declared a missing person."

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ramblesanddragons · 3 years

Text

On Your Shoulders

A very late birthday (might as well be a holiday gift) for @lemonfodrizzleart

I saw something and immediately went “That would be amazing with Jackie and Stan.” 10 internet points to anyone who guesses what it was.

Read it on AO3 or under the the read more.

Summary: Stan gains the eye of a visitor and Jackie has to save him.

Jackie slid to a stop at the edge of the forest and gathered all of her nerves. Ford and Fiddleford were still at the house trying to think of the best plan to save Stan but by the time any rescue robot could be built Stan would be gone.

Whisked away to where ever the hell faeries come from.

Hoping that that they hadn't made it too far Jackie ran full sprint into the forest. She dared any gnome or shadow creature to mess with her today. Her hunch could be wrong but she had a feeling the band of faeries that had kidnapped Stan were headed to that large ring of mushrooms Ford had found earlier in the week. That had been around with the new folks had shown up. For a guy that studies the supernatural he apparently couldn't tell someone was some sort of fae by looking at them.

Jackie had know something was up though. The head guy's movements were so graceful, Unnaturally so. He had a sharp wit and sliver tongue. At first there was a thought that it was just jealousy because of how obvious it was this guy was into Stan but she ignored the feeling. Now she wish she had gone after the guy with an iron horse shoe.She grew closer to the clearing and thanked whoever was listening that her hunch was right. There was the guy with his friends. He was leading a dazed looking Stan by the hand into the ring.

Now this was the part where the farm hand probably should have paused to think of a plan but the absolute fear at the idea of losing the love of her life drover her forward. With all of her might she crashed into the strange man with a scream.

The past few days felt like a blur to Stan. It started when this group of five guys showed up one evening. Weary travelers asking to stay in the barn for a night or two and willing working around the farm in exchange . Normally Stan wouldn't have felt comfortable with the idea. There was something about these folk that seemed a little off but whatever hesitations melted away as he listened to the leader of the group talk. He was tall with the greenest eyes Stan had ever seen. His dark hair reached midway down his back when it was not braided. Without really knowing why Stan found himself wanting to spend every free moment with this stranger. Something in the back of mind kept yelling at him that something was wrong. That he wanted to be with Jackie and his family but he couldn't fight it. He couldn't fight it as this man and his minions took what they wanted from the house. the group walked unopposed into the woods with several large bags of items that ranged from home spun yarn Jackie had made from the wool, several jars of homemade jam, some of Ford’s books, the good silverware, and the nice dress Jackie had sown for herself. As the visitor took Stan's hand and guided him through the words he whispered into Stan's ears. There were promises of riches and a life where he would be waited on hand and foot. All Stan needed to do was give his name. Give over his name and an eternity of comfort was waiting for him.

He wanted eternity with Jackie.

Even in the middle of the woods it was like he could hear her.

She was yelling. Why was she yelling?

Wait was that a yelp of pain?

The haze lifted. Fear and anger gripped him and he spun to see this random weirdo tossing a frantic Jackie off of him and tumbling into some roots. He began to walk toward her. Instantly Stan lunged but was held back by two of the others who suddenly looked a lot less human than they did a minute ago. Ever the fighter Stan took the heel of his boot and kicked back hard getting one in the shin. With the other he swung his head back as hard as he could and got them in the nose. Now free Stan charged towards the guy over Jackie but he just tutted and snapped his fingers. Vines erupted from the earth and ensnared Stan. With a roar he tore himself free of the earth but the vines clung tight around his arms in legs. A few frantic hops forward and Stan toppled to the ground.

The fae creature smiled at Jackie as she got to her feet.

“I’ve never met a human dumb enough to try something like that,” he said in a silky smooth voice.

“Yeah well you pissed me off!” She yelled back trying to hide the fear she felt shaking her to her core.

“How so?”

“The fae are tricky," Ford had said earlier this week. "Never be specific with them. The vaguer you are the better.”

“Oh you know why. You took my shit! I worked hard on a lot of that and God knows I’m not paid enough for it.” She tried to ignore the crestfallen look on Stan’s face. She refused to look at him. There was no way she was going to tip this guy off.

“Paid?”

“Yeah this yahoo is my boss.” If Stan was trying to pull this off Jackie bet that he wouldn’t feel so sick to his stomach like she did. He was a smooth talker. Charming. A lot like this guy but way less creepy.

“Tell you what human. Your antics amuse me and I wish to return home with my new consort as soon as possible. For your bravery...and to get you out of my hair how about this? You can have back whatever you can carry on your shoulders out of here. The items are just amusing trinkets after all.”

Jackie though for a moment then smiled.

“Whatever I can carry? Do I have your word?”

“You have my word.” She felt the fae’s words in her very bones and knew that some sort of deal was struck.

“Well alrighty then.”

Without another word she walked over to Stan who had struggled to a standing position. She looped and arm under his legs and balanced him as best she could on her back. With a deep breath she lifted with all of her might.

“Jackie stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Babe just trust me here,” she said through grit teeth.

Slowly but surely she began to walk. Stan was heavy but that didn’t matter. If this had happened when she had first been hired on she might have been screwed but working on the farm had made her stronger. She didn’t spare the group of fae another look as she walked back to the edge of the forest. (Later Stan would tell her that the smug bastard who tried to take him seemed to be struggling between angry and impressed. Each of the guy's friends held their mouths open in shock. For once in what was probably a very long life the guy had been conned. Apparently as they walked out of sight Stan even flipped them off.)

Once the mushroom ring was out of sight Stan moved to get down but Jackie just clung tighter.

“No. I’m not dropping ya until we’re out of the forest.”

"But..."

"Stan I love you but shhhhh."

A moment passed in silence and Jackie sighed. Even on her back she could tell Stan was about to burst."What do you want to say?"

"Honey I'm so sorry. You know I would never want to leave you right? That guy out some sort of spell on me and I should've fought it harder. God you could have been hurt of killed and this is gonna break your back. I'm not wor..."

"Stanley Pines if you’re about to say you’re not worth it I will drop you on your head when we’re out of here!”

“Okay then I wont. But I will say the was reckless. I'll also say damn proud of you.”

“Reckless but makes me proud is a good descriptor for you too you know.”

Stan chuckled a bit at that. Jackie could see the edge of the forest. Her back ached and her legs burned by this point but she could do it.

“Besides. You’ve rescued me from enough weird shit ‘bout time I...rescued...YOU!”

They two of them crossed the treeline and the moment Jackie felt free she tumbled. They both ended up flat on their backs. Stan scrambled to get himself free if the vines and next to his love’s side. He smiled as he wiped the sweat off of her forehead.

“You’re amazing you know that? Even when I was under that creep’s spell I was still thinking about you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Gently Stan scooped the aching woman off the ground and into his arms. He was saying something about a chiropractor but Jackie was so exhausted she started to drift missing most of what he was saying. What she didn’t miss with the frustrated but amused fae watching them go from the edge of the woods.

Just like Stan she flipped him off until they were out of sight.

( Ford later puts wards around the farm which come and handy later when a pretty woman comes across Jackie and Stan working in the field and both of them go gaga for a minute. Ford ends up dragging them away from the bemused fae women muttering under his breath.)

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Mystery Farm AU #attempted faenapping #My writing #stanxjackie #apparently all #my brain can do #is short stories right now

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thecassadilla · 3 years

Text

Anything For You

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 3,688/AO3

Summary: Anna agrees to go camping despite her uncertainties, but Kristoff has a few tricks up his sleeve to make their experience more comfortable.

Author’s Note: Hi all! Here I am, once again writing about a topic that I know nothing about. I’m sure I got something wrong haha. I’m also the most indecisive person on the face of the earth, so I couldn’t decide how to end this. I don't even know if any of this makes sense tbh XD I hope you enjoy it regardless!

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kristoff sighed.

“I wish I could stay, but we both have work in the morning and I have to drive home.” Anna wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he said sheepishly, before pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “You didn’t actually plan to do anything except hang out this weekend, right?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, I was hoping to go camping. I haven’t been in a long time - since before we got together - and I’d love for you to come with me,” he explained, before hastily adding, “But only if you want to, of course.”

“I’ve never been camping before,” she responded, feeling a bit uneasy about the idea. Any vacations that her family had taken had always been to some kind of fancy resort; the thought of camping had never crossed her mind as a thing people really did until she was a teenager.

“I know, and I know it’s probably not something you’re thrilled about, but it’s only for two nights. I really want to go hiking and fishing before it gets too cold out.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“Really?” he asked, his face lighting up.

“Of course! Don’t be silly.”

“This is going to be so great,” he smiled. “I wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but I’m really glad that you’re willing to come along.”

“I’d do anything for you, Kristoff,” she promised, giving him another hug for good measure. “I’ll let you know when I get home, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, drive safely.”

“I will.”

She spent the entire twenty minute drive agonizing over what the weekend would be like; she knew nothing about camping. In her head, all she could picture were tents and sleeping bags in the middle of the cold, dark woods. She was so focused on her thoughts that she had no recollection of the actual drive; with a sigh, she made her way inside, taking notice of the fact that the lights were still on, which could only mean that her sister was awake. She kicked her shoes off in the entryway and texted Kristoff before venturing in.

“Hey,” she called out as she approached the living room.

“Hi,” Elsa responded, not taking her eyes away from the book she was reading. “How are you?”

“Pretty good,” Anna responded, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “I’m going camping this weekend.”

Elsa looked up at her younger sister and blinked a few times in disbelief. “You’re going camping?”

“I know,” Anna cringed. “But it’s something that Kristoff really likes to do, and it’s not like I’ve ever done it before, so I don’t really know that I’m going to hate it.”

“I don’t know, sleeping on the floor in the middle of the woods sounds very unappealing to me.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be in a tent.”

“What about bugs? Or bears? Or the countless other wild animals that lurk in the woods?”

Anna shrugged, a bit of anxiety rising in her. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“And what will you eat? Where will you go to the bathroom?”

“I don’t know, Elsa,” she answered exasperatedly. “Look, I’m going to go and if it’s really awful then I’ll just request that next time we get a camper or something. But I don’t want to disappoint Kristoff and say ‘no’ off the bat because he does everything that I want to do.”

Elsa nodded thoughtfully. “That’s really nice of you. I don’t know if I would be willing to do the same.”

“I have a feeling that you’ll feel differently if you ever love someone,” she muttered under her breath, sliding off of the couch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go figure out what on earth I’m supposed to pack.”

She headed upstairs to her room, and sat down on her bed before grabbing her laptop and logging on. After a few minutes of research, it became clear that she didn’t have most of the things that were required to go camping in the fall, and amidst her anxiety returning, she decided that a quick call to her lifeline wouldn’t hurt.

Kristoff answered on the first ring. “Hey, Anna.”

“Hi, honey. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m trying to figure out what I have to bring with me this weekend, and I’m having a bit of a hard time because I don’t really have any of the things this website says I should have.”

“Like what?”

She squinted at the screen whilst reading off some of the items to him. “Waterproof boots, a rain jacket, a sleeping bag...sleeping pads? I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s like a cushion that you put down so you aren’t sleeping on directly on the hard ground,” he explained. “It’s also an extra layer of insulation.”

“Gotcha,” she remarked. “Will we have time to stop somewhere so I can get these things?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered.”

“I have total faith in you, I do - but unless you have a pair of boots in my size laying around somewhere, we will have to stop and get them.”

“It’ll all be taken care of,” he assured her.

“You know what? I’ll go to the mall and buy the stuff I need before we leave on Friday.”

“I don’t have any issues with stopping,” he promised. “You don’t have to rush out and go buy a bunch of stuff.”

“Alright,” she said, cautiously. “Can you text me a list of clothes I should pack? And what type of bag I should pack them in.”

“Absolutely, but you really won’t need as much as you think you do.”

“That’s easy for you to say; you’re a human furnace. It’s probably going to be very cold at night and everything I’ve read says to wear lots of layers.”

“Just...trust me,” he breathed, in a rather content tone.

It was both comforting and alarming to her. “I trust you.”

“Please try not to worry about it, it’s going to be great.”

She smiled to herself. “I’ll try.”

“Good, now try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“And don’t forget to send me that list!” she called at the last second, and she heard him laugh before the line went dead.

Her phone buzzed a minute later; she glanced down at the text that read, Warm clothes, toiletries, backpack. Don’t overthink it. Love you.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes; it was the opposite of helpful. Regardless, she sent back a message thanking him, setting her mind to doing more research and getting the necessities at the mall.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A trip to the mall after work on Friday was not enough to quell Anna’s anxiety about the camping trip; she still felt wholly unprepared, even as she was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, folding her clothes and allowing her mind to race. A soft knock on the door brought her back to reality. She looked over, and Kristoff was leaning against her doorframe.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here already!”

“I texted you, but it’s not a big deal. Elsa let me in.”

“Sorry, my phone is charging over there,” she said, pointing to her desk.

He sat down on the edge of her bed and watched as she hurried to throw her clothes into her backpack. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Maybe.” She shoved the sweatshirt into the bag and changed the subject. “I went to the mall today.”

He cocked his head. “I promised that we would stop to get the stuff that you needed.”

“I know. We still have to stop at the camping supplies store for my boots. The sporting goods store at the mall was all sold out and I need them.”

“We’ll get them. What’d you get at the mall?”

“I bought wool socks. And a puffer vest and a fleece jacket. I already had a hat and a scarf and mittens, of course.”

“That sounds good, you won’t feel cold wearing all of that.”

“I had to go on a wild goose chase for leggings, though, because all of the Victoria’s Secret leggings I have are made of cotton and that’s not a good material to wear while camping, apparently.”

“You did a lot of research about camping, huh?”

“I had to, my boyfriend was being intentionally vague,” she remarked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I wasn’t being intentionally vague,” he corrected. “You’re not an avid hiker and camper, you don’t really need special camping-only clothes.”

She zipped up her bag. “But you like camping, so this is probably not a one time thing - unless you plan on going without me after this.”

“You’re always invited,” he assured her. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I feel a little unprepared, though. Are you sure that I have everything I’ll need?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “It’s going to be fine.”

Anna stood up and unplugged her phone and it’s charger, stuffing them both into the side pocket of her backpack. She slid one of the straps over her shoulder. “Ready.”

He followed her down the stairs and to the front door, where Elsa was waiting.

“Be safe,” she said, pulling Anna in for a hug.

“We will,” Anna assured her. “See you on Sunday.”

“Have fun!” Elsa called from the doorway as they walked out.

They climbed into the car, which was parked at the end of the driveway, and Anna set her backpack on the floorboard near her feet. Kristoff started the engine, then leaned over the center console to reach something in the backseat. Upon turning back around, set a box on her lap. “Here, these are for you.”

It was a shoe box. She flipped open the lid and inside were grey hiking boots with purple accents and laces. Her breath caught in her throat. “You bought me boots?”

“Yeah, you said you needed them.”

“You remembered my shoe size?”

“...Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “Was I not supposed to know?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I only dragged you shoe shopping, like, once so I didn’t think that you knew what size I wore.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere,” he corrected. “It’s just something that I paid attention to. I know for a fact that you know my shoe size even though I’ve never bought shoes in front of you.”

“I do,” she nodded, looking down at the box again. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Anything for my girl,” he grinned, shifting gears from park to drive.

The drive up to the campsite went by fast; the roads were empty and they were able to enjoy each other’s company and talk as they made their way through the mountains, as well as stop at a diner for a quick meal. After an hour on the road, Kristoff pulled into a parking lot surrounded by lush green pine trees.

“This is the place?” she asked, a wave of anxiety rushing over her. The sky was overcast and it was a little foggy, and on top of that she couldn’t see any visible trails or signage from where she was sitting. She figured that there had to be one around here somewhere.

He nodded, parking on the far end. “This is it.”

He climbed out of the car and went around the back to open the trunk. In the meantime, she opened her own door and twisted so her legs could hang out and she could put her boots on. She toed off her sneakers, and slid her foot into the first boot, realizing for the first time how heavy they were.

Kristoff appeared in front of her. “You need some help?”

“No, I’ve got it,” she answered, tugging the laces through the hook eyelets. When they felt tight enough, she tied the ends onto a knot and started with the other boot. When she finished, he held out his hand and she took it before hopping out of the car.

“Put your sneakers in your backpack,” he recommended. “You’ll be dying to take those off when we get to the site.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She did as he said, squeezing the shoes into the bag and then slid her arms into each of the straps. She closed the door and walked back to the trunk, growing concerned when she realized he hadn’t brought that much stuff along with him. “Where’s all your stuff?”

“It’s right here,” he said, patting the duffle bag.

“There’s no way that that’s everything we need for two nights.”

“Everything’s in here,” he assured her.

“You’re joking, right? Where’s the tent? The sleeping bags? Food and water? They can’t all possibly fit in that tiny bag.”

He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “Anna, relax, you’re working yourself up over nothing. I’ve got it all covered, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, exhaling shakily. She wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but he was the camping expert.

He removed his hands in order to close the trunk, and then took her by the hand. “Come on, we’re going this way.”

He led her toward a densely packed area of trees, no path in sight. She gulped. “We aren’t going to be following a trail? We’re just going to...walk in the woods?”

“Yup,” he answered.

“That doesn’t seem very safe,” she remarked.

“I know these woods, we’ll be fine.”

Although he was trying to be reassuring, it was not helpful in the slightest. Her mind was wandering - what would they do if they encountered a wild animal? Or if they got lost - how would help find them? Would they starve to death or freeze to death? Meanwhile, Kristoff was as cool as a cucumber, forging ahead and seemingly doing so without a care in the world.

They walked for a long time, much longer than she had imagined they would. The woods were damp and cold, with lots of ups and downs in the terrain. A slight separation formed between them, and she trailed behind him, struggling to keep up. They kept the talking to a minimum, until she recognized the area that they were in.

“Hey, haven’t we passed these trees before?”

“No.”

She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. “Are you sure? Because I swear that I’ve seen this fallen tree.”

“It’s your mind playing tricks on you,” he assured her. “Just keep walking, don’t pay too much attention to the trees because they all look alike.”

She threw her head back in a moment of frustration and groaned, but did as he said and kept walking. She kept reminding herself that he knew a lot more than she did, but it was incredibly difficult to not worry about their safety. Her feet were starting to ache from wearing the unbroken-in boots, and carrying the weight of her backpack was getting harder and harder on her back and shoulders with each step. When it had started to become noticeably darker, and they were still walking, she spoke up again.

“Kristoff?” she called, a little breathless from the thin mountain air.

He turned around. “Yeah?”

“Shouldn’t we stop somewhere soon? I know that you’re the camping expert, but it’s getting dark out and we still need to set everything up.”

He stopped for a moment, allowing her enough time to catch up to him before they continued. “The site is just a little bit further ahead, we’ll make it.”

“I trust you, but you’re making me a little nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” he assured her, in a sincere tone.

She stopped dead in her tracks regardless. “No offense, but that’s something a serial killer would say.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did you just accuse me of bringing you out here so I could murder you?”

He reached out to take her hand and she took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s just a little too convenient. I may be a lot smaller than you, but I could kick your ass if I have to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he chuckled, motioning for her to continue following him.

She did, though she tried to keep a safe distance in case she had to run. “You’re just acting so...strange.”

“You’ll see why as soon as we get past this cluster of trees.”

Suddenly, the land in front of them cleared into a wide open space. He pointed to a rather large campground that was not populated by tents, but rather by a few wood cabins. “There. That’s where we’re staying.”

Her heart was racing, now. “But those are cabins.”

“I know.”

“Wait, are we not sleeping in a tent?”

“We’re not,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Surprise.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m so confused.”

“Look, I know that you’ve never been camping before, and I really wanted you to come along, but I knew that you were a little uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping outside.”

“You did this for me?”

“Of course,” he said in a low voice, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “You agreed to come because you knew it would make me happy. The least I could do was make sure that you would be comfortable.”

“But I just…accused you of being a serial killer. And I threatened to beat you up.”

“Because I spent an hour and a half leading you in circles around the woods and deflecting your questions to throw you off.”

She blinked a few times, unable to slow her pounding heart or her racing mind. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about we go check it out?”

“Okay,” she nodded.

The walk across the field was much easier than their trudge through the woods.

“My truck is actually parked right over there.” He pointed to the right, and though it was hard to see, there was a parking lot just past the furthest cabin on that side. He then pointed to the furthest cabin on the left. “We’re staying in that last one on the left.”

“How did I not see any of these?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Because I parked on the far end and took you through the woods, behind the cabins. If I had wanted you to see them, you would’ve.”

“This isn’t technically camping, you know,” she pointed out.

“It’s glamping,” he smirked. “Besides, we can’t have you freezing to death out there.”

She frowned. “I just feel bad that you got jipped out of a real camping trip.”

“I didn’t get jipped out of anything,” he promised. “We can go hiking and fishing, we can build a campfire right outside of the cabin and look up at the stars, and best of all, you’re here with me - that’s the most important thing.”

In no time, they were walking up the stairs to the small deck of the cabin, where two chairs and a small table sat. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door before leading her inside. It was much nicer than she anything she could’ve expected; a large, comfortable-looking bed in the far corner, and a couch near the front door. It was cozy and quaint, and the absolute opposite of sleeping in a tent in the middle of the woods.

“It’s not fancy, but there’s a bed, and a bathroom, and a kitchenette,” he said, pointing out each of those areas as he said its name. “I already stocked up the fridge, and look! We have electricity and heat, but there’s also a fireplace and we can keep a fire going.”

She was at a loss for words, and frankly, a little disoriented. The boots, the cabin, it was all so unexpected and so...thoughtful. So romantic.

He glanced down at her face and squeezed her shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just a little shocked, that’s all,” she answered, her voice soft and shaky.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I totally wasn’t expecting this and I’m a little overwhelmed, but in a good way.”

“Do you need to sit down?”

“No, no,” she said, frantically waving her hands around as she spoke. “It’s just that I agreed to come camping to make you happy, and even if I absolutely hated it, I’d still do it again because I know you love it and I love you so I want you to be happy all the time, of course, but then you turn around and do this amazing thing to make me happy, and even though I’ve known for a long time that you’re the person I want to be with for the rest of my life -”

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“More than anything,” she breathed. “I’ve never been so certain about something.”

“I feel the same way,” he cooed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I want a lifetime with you.”

“I didn’t even know that loving someone this much was possible,” she mumbled, reaching up to his face and gently brushing her thumb against his lips before settling it on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I really can’t believe that you did this.”

“You make me so unbelievably happy,” he confessed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him; she closed her eyes, taking in his smell. He smelled vaguely of pine and body wash and sweat, and she was sure that she smelled the same. His leaned down, his breath was warm on her face when he whispered, “I’d do anything for you.”

She softly pressed her lips to his before leaning back to meet his gaze. “How about we make good on that promise, then?”

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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