#‘Who would really put puzzles and riddles everywhere like that?’ Turns out the answer is ‘An eccentric millionaire video game designer’

[kaiyves-backup]

Sending people party invitations that contain codes telling you to hold the paper over fire (but not burn it) and then put it in the freezer to get the real message convinces me that Richard Garriott is the kind of person edutainment games, books, and cartoons were warning us about.

[aurathian]

Hey! I'm so glad your requests are open, I love your writing and I would love to suggest something. In my opinion, everyone noticed that Link and Zelda liked each other even before they knew. I imagine Urbosa, Revali, Daruk, or even Purah or Robbie would constantly be teasing them about that, only for them to quickly deny it and blush with embarrassment. But maybe this could lead the blondies to having interesting conversations, don't you think?

Firstly, I am SO sorry at how long this took. Life is really getting ahold of me, and it’s only getting worse. I decided to experiment with present tense in this oneshot, so I hope it turned out to your liking despite the experimental nature! Thanks for your request.

Rumors

Zelda rolls her eyes. “Please,” she groans. “I don’t like him.”

“Come on, Princess, you totally do!” Impa lightly taps her on the shoulder and wiggles her eyebrows. The princess reels back in playful disgust and smiles.

“Impa, I really don’t. We are just...” she searches for the right words. “Acquaintances...?”

“Friends,” Impa offers. “Maybe more.”

“There is no maybe, Impa. It’s simply false. The implication I like him, that is.”

Impa runs a hand over her face and rolls her eyes, too, following Zelda as she continues down the hall. “You guys go everywhere together!”

“He is my knight.”

“He held your hand that one time—”

“We were about to be blown up by a raging Guardian,” Zelda scolds, and she stops to face Impa. “It’s his duty to protect me, and he grabbed my hand to help me keep up with his speed.”

“Sure, Princess.” Impa crosses her arms. “But you can’t deny that—”

“Besides,” Zelda interrupts unintentionally, her voice soft and low in the castle halls, “I don’t think anyone would want to be with a failure like me.”

Impa blinks. Once, then twice. “Um...” she’s caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood. “That’s not true. I, for one, would love to be with you!”

“Impa!” Zelda scolds, her face burning scarlet. “I simply mean that I have much to worry about and don’t have the time to think about relationships. I need to fulfill my duty.”

“Everyone has a little spare time for love, Princess.”

Zelda gazes out the window next to her into a small green courtyard. “Not me,” she disagrees. “He is fulfilling his duty beyond what is expected. I need to figure out how to do the same.”

A guard approaches the pair of women and tells Impa that she’s needed elsewhere in the castle. Impa walks off with the guard after saying goodbye to Zelda, making sure to turn around and make kissy faces at her as she walks away. 

Zelda chuckles quietly, but it really does bother her. The endless questions, assumptions, the never-ending looks she receives when she’s out with her knight Link. Ever since he was appointed as her knight, the rumors ran rampant. Part of her wishes that she would’ve been left alone to train day and night to appease the Goddesses that refuse to answer her even now, but the other part of her appreciates the support, however silent it is. 

Zelda continues her stroll through the castle only to run into the Champions returning from the throne room at an intersection in the hallway.

“Hello,” she greets politely, still a little uncomfortable around them and in awe of the sheer power they each held individually. She feels that it would be rude to get too friendly too fast, given their statuses in their homelands. 

“Hey, Princess!” Daruk bellows boisterously, his mouth positioned in a never-ending smile. “What’re you up to?”

Revali tuts and crosses his arms. “What a foolish question, Daruk. She lives here. What do you think she’s doing?” Zelda frowns and tilts her head ever so slightly in disapproval. Each of the champions has a strong personality, she knows, but Revali’s is arguably the strongest.

“I’m just on a walk,” she explains to Daruk with a small smile. “How about you?”

“Well, we’re—” his smile drops when he realizes he forgot.

Urbosa claps him on the back and a few sparks light up from her hands. She laughs heartily, deeply, warmly, and looks at Zelda. The Princess Zelda always found comfort in Urbosa. When her mother died, Urbosa was the only woman in her life that was there for her, especially in her younger years.

“We just got our next mission from the King,” Urbosa tells her. “We’re on our way to vanquish some monsters from the Breach of Demise.”

“By ‘we’, she means ‘I’,” Revali cuts in. “We all know I do all the work.” Urbosa shoots him a glare and its enough to silence him for a little while.

They talk a little while longer about boring, menial things, like how it is back home or what their plans are after they defeat the Calamity. Zelda wishes she could think like them.

“Mipha, aren’t you craftin’ some armor for someone?” Daruk asks loudly, and Mipha turns even redder than her skin.

“I— well, yes, I am.”

“Really?” Urbosa says in surprise. “There’s a special voe in your life, little vai?”

Mipha only nods.

Suddenly, Revali groans, and it’s an unheavenly and demonic sound. He turns to face the wall behind him, arms still crossed. “Look who it is!” he yells. “The great knight!” His voice is riddled with notes of sarcasm and disdain.

Zelda’s gaze shifts away from the proud Champions and to Link, who is still approaching them. His face is the same; mouth flat and eyes dull. He always looks bored, but perhaps indifferent is the better word. Zelda doesn’t quite know the words to describe his demeanor. It crosses her mind then that she’s never seen him smile.

She doesn’t realize it, but her face glows pink.

“Princess, are you alright?” Mipha’s soft voice breaks Zelda’s trance and she blinks out of it. “You’re red.”

She realizes.

“I—I am not!” she says defensively, fanning her face. Daruk is puzzled, but Mipha and Urbosa share knowing glances. The tall Gerudo warrior strides over to the princess and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“The princess and I are going to talk for a moment,” she says with a wink at Mipha, who blushes. “I’ll meet up with you outside the castle.” The Champions walk away, and Revali doesn’t miss his chance to send a searing glare at Link. As usual, the knight doesn’t react, and it makes the Rito even angrier.

“Link, you can be on your way as well,” Urbosa tells him. He looks at Zelda and back at Urbosa, and his gaze makes the princess feel a little weak. “Oh, I see. Come along, then.”

Zelda and Urbosa walk side by side while Link trails behind a little ways, unable to hear their whispers.

“You make it so obvious,” Urbosa says. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Please, I just had this conversation with Impa. I don’t know if I can make it any clearer that I have no romantic incline toward Link.”

“Your mother was a very busy woman.”

“My mother? What does she—”

“She often overworked herself, much like you, little bird.” Urbosa’s voice is warm and comforting, a stark contrast from the strong inflection she uses when giving commands. “She never allowed herself time off.”

“I do not overwork myself.”

“She also had a habit of denying the obvious. I see you inherited that as well.”

Zelda grumbles under her breath and Urbosa smiles. “When she made time for herself, she found someone. Your father.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Zelda, it’s okay to indulge a little. To want something. Even when your father demands that you train, it’s okay to be a little selfish.”

Zelda stares up at Urbosa in admiration. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now,” the chief says. “Sav’orq!” Urbosa walks down the hallway and turns a corner quickly.

Zelda groans. “We are not lovebirds!” she calls after Urbosa, but she’s long gone. She stops walking and turns to face her knight whose expression is still blank. “And you... I assume you don’t have much of an opinion on the matter?”

Link tilts his head, a silent show of confusion.

“Surely you’ve heard the rumors.” She steps closer and hisses, “We’re secret lovers.”

His expression doesn’t change, but his cheeks do. They flare a bright red like she’s never seen on him before. “It’s just silly,” she sighs, “and frustrating. Because I don’t feel that way about you. I think.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Tell me what you think about it,” she demands. “I want to know.”

He doesn’t say anything still, but he’s thinking, and she can tell.

“I don’t mind,” he says plainly.

“You don’t... what?” She’s surprised, maybe a little disappointed, but she dwells more on the sound of his voice—soft and the exact opposite of what she imagined. “Why wouldn’t you mind? The rumors are wrong in every way! I simply don’t have time to have a lover and how scandalous is the mere idea! Other than that, you wouldn’t want to be with me. I can’t do the simplest things.”

“I think they’re sorta true.”

She squints at him. “What?”

“I like you. And I think you can do more than you think.”

Before she can say anything, someone calls his name down the hall. He mutters an apology, bows, and runs away.

Alone in the hallway she sighs and cups her cheek with her hand. She giggles, brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “He likes me.”

Maybe the rumors hold some truth.

[chibisquirt]

You don't have to answer, but if you wouldn't mind. What are some things you've learned about ADHD from Tumblr that are applicable to you, or others you may now? I've been reading more on it and how it manifests in girls/women and was curious when I read your rb on that post about Grammarly

I don’t mind at all!  Fair warning:  this is gonna be LONG.

I’m going to start by repeating something I mentioned in that post:  I was diagnosed in third grade, which was over two decades ago.  I had my diagnosis halfway through elementary school, much less high school and two rounds of college.  So a lot of the old information about ADHD I learned as a young person, and those things are worth exploring, too.  

Example:  It’s not that I’m not listening, Mrs. Nock, it’s just that if I try to keep my hands still, then the only thing I will retain from the lesson will be keep your hands still and not the things you trying to teach, which are supposedly important! 

(Mrs. Nock was the one who said to me, “I believe you believe you’re paying attention.”  Yes, it’s been fifteen years.  Yes, I’m still mad.  If you can’t have basic respect for your students, don’t teach.)

I figured out half on my own, half because of the counselling that if I had a fidget tool that didn’t require words I would pay better attention than if I tried to sit still.  (I still remember being mocked by my dad for fidgeting well after making that discovery, though.  Apparently diagnoses should only inform compassion when they’re his.)  On the same lines, I also figured out that music in the background wouldn’t work for me if it had words, and television is too distracting for me to use at all.  (I have a friend, though, whose ADHD works the opposite way:  he has difficulty focusing if there isn’t a television in the background.  Yes, both are valid.)

So, the Classics:  

I always had trouble with organization and cleaning, had trouble with schedules and calendars and managing my time.  Those are the things they’ll warn you about, the things they’ll tell you in counselling are natural and normal things for people with ADHD to have trouble with.  Trouble paying attention, sure.  Trouble sitting still.  Procrastination.  Got it.

But if you turn those traits around and re-frame them, they become a new set of symptoms.  Adaptations for these new symptoms are more personal and universally applicable in my life, and therefore, to my mind, more useful.

Take Procrastination.  (No really: please take it.)  That just means “putting it off until tomorrow,” and there are lots of reasons to do it:  “don’t have the tool I need” is one of the biggies, “want to conserve steps” trips me up a lot, “I still have time to get to it” is HUGE for me...  But a lot of times, these are just superficial reasons.  The re-framed symptom is, Trouble making yourself do things you don’t want to do.  

ADHD is an executive function disorder.  That’s a phrase I first learned on Tumblr, by the way; it may have been mentioned by one of my earlier counsellors, but it definitely wasn’t taught.  

This is why soooo many of us have struggled with the perception (including self-perception) that we’re lazy!  But no one tells the kid in the wheelchair he’s just lazy for not playing basketball.  (Okay, they totally do.  People are terrible.  Ignore that, stick to the point.)  I reframe this the way I do because acknowledging this as a symptom, taking the blame out of it, makes it easier to find adaptation.

Now, this is a personal post.  YMMV.  But I have an easier time managing my conduct if, instead of calling myself lazy a procrastinator, I say, “I keep not doing that --> oh it’s because I Don’t Wanna --> how can I con myself into doing it?”  (Strategies include bargaining, making it easier, powering through but then allowing yourself to stop afterwards, just acknowledging that I Don’t Wanna and allowing that to be valid...)  Procrastination is an action, but “executive function disorder” is a disease and “I Don’t Wanna” is its trigger, just as much as an allergy and a clump of ragweed are.  “Procrastination” is a powerful sphynx against which I’m helpless, but “I Don’t Wanna Disease” lets me start cultivating my metaphorical catnip and researching the answers to common riddles.

And while we’re talking about procrastination--and trouble with deadlines, and schedules in general--let’s talk about Time Insensitivity.  Missed deadlines and perpetual lateness (perpetual) are external actions, just like procrastination, and they can have all sorts of explanations.  

(Shoutout to Mrs. Pollack, who looked around a classroom containing thirteen-year-old me, and, knowing full well that I was chronically tardy, declared that “anybody who’s always running late, deep down, they just doesn’t care about anybody else’s time.”  Great job with calling the thirteen-year-old a heartless bitch, Mrs. Pollack!  As you can tell, I definitely forgot it very quickly, and didn’t at all have a self-critical breakdown about it, periodically revisiting the question of my own inherent selfishness for years!!!)

But ignoring the external actions, let’s take a compassionate look inside the head again.  Executive function includes regulation of, and awareness of the passing of, time.  Again: you can’t play the basketball with no legs.  We literally do not realize what time is doing.  Sometimes we do--if we devote enough of our attention to it, which may be a large amount for some, a small amount for others, or a variable amount for the same person.  But our brains literally don’t process it the same way.  

But hold on a minute--let’s go back to that analogy.  Because actually, people with no legs can play basketball!  It’s just that you have to use the adaptation of wheelchairs to do it--and that’s an adaptation for the game and for the players.  

I use alarms.  I’ve recently seen a post about audio memos as alarms.  There are people who just slap clocks everywhere.  When I was forced to work in a kitchen with no clocks, I used the multi-setting timer and set it for like four hours so I would know if I was keeping on schedule.  I also chose a job environment where much of my shift is the same as itself, and rigid punctuality isn’t enforced--that’s adapting my environment, instead of myself.  There’s all kinds of adaptations.  But you have to know you have the condition before you can compensate for it.

Here’s a fun little story:  when I was... oh, eleven?  Twelve?  My Quaker Meeting’s youth group (#7 whitest phrase I’ve ever written) went to the museum together.  One of the stops was in the children’s section, there was a... a pegboard, I think?  With some kind of problem on it.  A puzzle.  Me and a couple others sat down at it, and it took me a while, but eventually I solved it, and I looked up.  

I blinked.  “Where is everybody?” I said.

“They left,” said my mom.  “Half an hour ago.”  

I was stunned.  “Half an hour ago?!  But I couldn’t’ve spent more than ten minutes on this!”

“I promise you, it was half an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call me??  Why didn’t you say my name?”

“We did.  Several times.”

To this day, I will swear myself blind that I never heard a thing.

Hyperfocusing.  They’ll tell you about the problems focusing; oh yes.  They’ll tell you allll about that one.  But they won’t tell you about the flip side of it.  They won’t tell you about the times when the rest of the world falls away, and the only two things in the world are you and whatever problem you’re trying to solve.  

D’y’know what, I bet that’s the reason I test well.  I just realized this now, phrasing it like that, but--I’ve always tested well, even when my actual practical applications of things are mediocre I do well with the classroom testing on it.  I scored a 39 on the MCAT, back when it was out of 45 and not whatever it is now.  (To those with the plain good sense not to want to be doctors:  that’s pretty good.)  And I just bet it’s because, once I get focused on solving the problems, the other problems--nerves, intrusive thoughts, anxiety--just don’t have room to get in.  Hyperfocusing can be a superpower, if you can harness it.  

But it can also blind you to everything else.  And it works in smaller ways, too:  once I think I understand something, it is very difficult for me to perceive information that contradicts that understanding.  I still get the map of the Elflands backwards every time I read The Goblin Emperor, just because I pictured it one way, and every indication in the text that it was the other way just fell on deaf ears.  

And this one leads right into the next, which is Rejection Sensitivity Disorder.  RSD is hyperfocus, but it’s hyperfocus on how everyone must hate you.  It’s delightful!  I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, as well, and I do have both of those things, but for my money, I think that this one symptom of ADHD--which no doctor has ever even mentioned to me--has hurt me more than both of those conditions combined.  

The last one I’m going to bring up is Auditory Processing Disorder.  Now, I’ve gone and gotten re-diagnosed twice in my life, and the last time was just a few years ago, so they actually used this one in the test.  The psychologist told me about it, she just didn’t use the phrase Auditory Processing Disorder, and she didn’t tell me that it was its own symptom--she just used it for the test.  

What she did was, she gave me two hearing tests, one to test whether or not I could hear, and then the other a list of words that all sounded alike, and I had to mark which one I was hearing.  The second part of that was very long, and very boring, and despite scoring perfectly on the first test, I got several wrong on the second.  I was actually surprised by that; I at no point suspected I had heard any of them wrong.  When she gave me the test, told me this was proof by contradiction, that we were ruling out hearing loss as an alternative explanation for my difficulties.  It was only after the test was done that she explained that the pattern I showed was actually part of the diagnosis of ADHD; that we get bored, and stop really paying attention, and that we don’t even know we’re doing it.

...Okay, but you couldn’t have mentioned the part where I also do that every day in real life, lady?!?!  It’s not just when we’re bored, it’s not just for long processes.  I do this all the time.  I actually tell people now that “I actually have a neurological condition that makes it hard for me to hear; I can tell that you’re speaking, but I can’t tell what you’re saying.”  

This is 100% true.  It is a neurological condition.  

We label this a condition, but as a society, we don’t treat it that way.  Society treats it as yet another excuse.  It’s not.  You’re not lazy, stupid or crazy.  Neither am I.  

I have a condition.  Acknowledging that is the first step of treatment.  Not five thousand sticky notes, not binders or filing systems or even taking all the doors off the cupboards (although I definitely plan to do that one as soon as I possibly can).  Not counselling sessions with so many different people I can’t even name them all, for the love of god please understand that you can’t just fix it with pills.  

(Although mad props to the people who thought Concerta would magically solve me at the age of nine!  Spoiler alert:  it did not do that!  But it did mean that my parents felt comfortable blaming me for all my failures again, so it did at least some of what it was designed for, I guess. :) )   

I have spent the last few years re-understanding my ADHD it as is:  a neurological condition, a disability, and a simple fact of life.  A starting place, instead of yet more proof of my own inherent insufficiency.  And you know what?  When you take the blame and self-hatred out of the diagnosis--when you stop cursing it as the cause of all your problems and start trying to work with it, instead--it gets a lot easier to manage. 

[branching-paths]

Of Riddles and Hair

A solid week of nice weather, and nice traveling since we left Rivendell has been a blessing. If only everyone wouldn't second guess the calm. Even Gandalf said it was going to break into a storm sooner then later. "Hey hobbit," Fili called from ahead. I looked up from where my hands were wringing my wrists, and looked at the blonde prince. He had the biggest smirk on his face, adn I knew that wouldn't amount to anything good. Never trust Fili or Kili when they have that smile, they keep eye contact with you, or say they're right behind you. He noticed that he had my attention and leaned back in his saddle, looking smug. "I have a riddle for you, and I know you won't be able to get it," He said smugly. I inclined my head and looked him square in the eye.

"How much do you bet," I asked, knowing that I had him hooked. Dwarves, I found out, when tempted with a challenge, they bet a lot on who they think will win, and I felt that I was ready to get in on the action. Kili looked up from his saddle and stared at me. I didn't have that much coinage, everyone knew that, but I was betting the richest in the company, second only to Gloin. There wasn't much I could loose. Fili stroked his mustache and looked at me. "Ten gold," He said, knowing how much I had, how though was a mystery. "Raise ten more," I said. Fili and Kili looked at me, confusion on their faces. "How do you plan to pay fer tha' hobbit," Gloin asked. I turned around adn inclined my head a little more. "I have my ways," I mumbled, turning back around. "Deal or not," I asked Fili. Fili smirked and removed his hand from his mustache. "A hobbit walks into a bar and asks for a glass of water," Fili riddled. "The bartender pulls out a cross bow and aims it at the hobbit. The hobbit thanks the tender and walks out, without his water. What happened?" I thought for a moment. Fili took that moment to set the rules. "Yes or no questions may be asked, but that's it." I looked up at Fili, opened my mouth and shut it. "How long do I have to answer," I asked. "Till we reach the mountains. The second we step onto stone, I'll reveal the answer." Myrin, who was riding next to Thorin, rode up next to Fili and whispered into his ear. He pulled his ehad away and looked at her, a look of bemused horror across his face. Myrin cackled and rode back up to Thorin, whispered to him and sent him cackling. Then something happened. Thorin choked on his laughter. A good wack on his back, thanks to Balin, and all was seeminly right again, so I went back to solving the riddle. What could a hobbit need with water, but suddenly not need when a crossbow was aimed at them? I tapped my chin as I thought and mumbled to myself. "You seem to be enjoying yoruself," Gandalf said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Enjoyment, no, pleasure, yes," I mumbled to him. "Now leave me be." I waved him away. "It's been forever since I had a good riddling match." Gandalf smiled from under his hat and rode over to Gloin adn Oin, where he stayed most all the time. HPHLUMP! I sat up and looked around. What was that? Fili and Kili were just as puzzled. Myrin adn Thorin were having a little stare down. Thorin's shoulders jumped, HPHLUMP!  and Myrin's stare turned into a weird smirk stare. "What was that," Ori asked from behind. "Some sort of monster," Nori growled, getting out one of his crooked daggers. My hand flew to the sword Gandalf had given me, I hoped it wasn't another Orc pack. "Was it an Orc pack," Bofur growled, reading my thoughts and readying his pikestaff. Everyone was getting their weapons ready, looking around the fading dusk. Myrin and Thorin were still having that little stare down, Gandalf's gaze switching between the two. Dwalin growled as the sound came again, hefting one of his axes off his shoulder. Then Myrin started to loose it. Chuckling madly, she rocked back and forth on her saddle, trying to supress her laughter with her hand. "Come now, it's not that funny," Thorin said, shaking his head. Myrin's laughter doubled. Everyone relaxed and put away their weapons. HPHLUMP! "Hiccups," I shouted. Thorin had hiccups, and it was high pitched. Fili graoned adn looked at me, scowling half heartedly. "Yep, you got it," He growled, folding his arms at me. I frowned at him. Got what? OH, the riddle. "I meant Thorin had hiccups," I corrected. Kili snorted. "Is that what that was," He asked. Myrin nodded, still chortling on Lakita. Thorin's cheek was twitching with annoyence, glaring at Myrin. "But you still answered," Gloin yelled. "Hand it over Fili!" "But-" "It's fine, pay when you have it," I said, waving my hand. Fili growled and faced forward on his pony, Kili cast me a worried look. Apparently Fili didn't like to loose things by acceident. Thunder rumbled in the distance, Lakita trilled, growling at the end. Myrin rubbed the back of her neck, trilling back. Then the rain came, just like everyone thought it would. What's worse, it was a thunderstorm, so Lakita was screaming when lightning arced across the sky, bolting from tree to tree to rock, still screaming, all this with Myrin on her back. We stopped just after the first break in the storm, on the top of a litte rise. Myrin jumped off the griffon and kissed the ground, hugging the grass, dispite it being soaked. "Not once have I forgotten how terrified she gets," Myrin shouted. "Not once have I been on her while a thunderstorm, and never again!" She burried her face into the grass and sat there as we dismounted. I think Kili tripped over her.

Well, I really hoped this worked. Fili hadn't given me the coins after dinner, so I volenteered to take first watch. It hadn't stopped raining, so any sound I could make would be muffled, unless someone had elf hearing. Right now, I was leaned up against a tree, an aspen if you're interested, watching the company get ready for bed. Gandalf just leaned up against a tree, stuck his pipe in his mouth and went stock still, eyes open and normally his hat was off, but because of the rain it was on tonight. His sword was next to him, staff on the other side, bag wrapped around his staff. Gandalf got boring, so my eyes drifted to Bofur and his family. Bombur was snoring again, like he normally was. He was on his side so he wouldn't drown in his sleep. I was surprised that he didn't wake himself up with his snoring tonight, it was esspecially loud. Maybe he might, the night was young. Bofur leaned up agianst Bombur's belly and placed his hat over his face,  his quieter snores joining his cousin's soon after, muffled by the floppy hat. Bifur laid on his stomach, held his forehead in his palms and went to snoring with his brother and cousin. How he didn't drive that axe farther into his head when he slept was beyond me! I glanced around the camp, not everyone was sleeping yet. Oin was finally asleep, snoring louder then Bombur, somehow. And he wouldn't wake himself up, because of his hearing. Gloin, who took forever to get to sleep, was leaning against a rock, smiling at a locket which held a portraite of his son and wife, mumbling in Khuzdul. Yeah, Kili finally told me what it was called. "Get to sleep Gloin," Thorin growled at him. Gloin looked up and looked at Thorin, frowning. He tucked the locket into his shirt and currled up in his roll and blankets, next to Oin. I noticed that the snoring didn't bother the dwarves, and Gandalf could sleep through everything. I wished that I could... "Get this off me," Nori mumbled. To the left of the Ur's lay the Ri's. Nori threw off the thick blanket that was covering him, shoving it on Ori, who was samwiched in between Dori and Nori. His notebook was under his arm adn he was sleeping. "Get it back on, do you want to catch cold," Dori hissed. The elder brother threw the blanket over Nori again, not without much grumbling though. Soon their were sleeping, Balin adn Dwalin went to sleep as well, but they went to sleep weird, to say the least. Dwalin took off his axes, set them side by side next to him, leaned up against a tree, folded his arms, shut his eyes and didn't move. Sure he breathed, but other then that, he could pass for a statue. Balin was pretty normal, but he slept with his sword right next to him, and I mean like almost used as a pillow, it was that close. But it was useful when someone called the alarm. "NORI, GIVE BACK MY DAGGER," Myrin shouted, stomping over to Nori, who was sitting up, looking around wildly. He met Myrin's purple scowl and tryed to meet it, but failed myserably. "What dagger," He asked. Myrin's scowl deepened and she threw a dagger, from somewhere I haven't a clue, right next to his hand. "It's just like that, about half an inch longer," She growled. "If you don't return it right now, the next one's going a little more to the left!" Nori freaked out, dug in hi spack and pulled out a dagger. It was entirely black, the blade was semi-transparent and deadly sharp. Myrin grabbed it from him and slid it into her boot. She picked up the one on the ground and slid it into her sleeve. She walked away, leaving Nori to get some sleep. I shook my head, flinging raindrops everywhere. Myrin went and sat next to Lakita, who was hunckered down under a large drooping pine, her tail trembling and puffed up. "If you two don't get to sleep, I'll make you sleep," Thorin shouted at Fili and Kili. They had been whispering about something, but now were silent. "Thank you!" Thorin turned over in his roll, covering his head with the blanket. Soon all three Durin's were snoring, the only one up now was me and Myrin. She took forever to get to sleep, but when she did, she was out! "Finally," I mumbled as I got to my feet. Everyone was asleep, and I could pickpocket Fili now. I took off my cloak, that way I wouldn't drip on anything. Sure I'ld get a little wet, but truthfully, getting at Fili was something I would do nearly anything for. Creeping over silently, I knetl down next to Fili's bag. Kili mumbled something in his sleep, making me freeze. Kili's face was scrumched up in a terrified scowl, mumbling in his sleep still. Fili mumbled something back and flung his arm around his younger brother, pulling him close. Kili smiled adn turned over on his side, snuggling close to Fili. It was cute, in a brotherly sort of way. I sighed and went digging into Fili's pack. I almost wished I had a sibling...almost. I twig snapped near Thorin, startling me. I scanned the trees, looking for anything. Two large beady eyes came out from behind a tree. I reconized the snout from an old childhood memory. "BEAR," I shouted, kicking over Fili's pack onto him, waking him up immeadiately. I drew my sword, unsure what else to do, and jumped over Fili and Kili, running towards Thorin. The rest of the creature came into view, it was a Warg. I stopped short, terror halting my movements. Thorin was up, sword drawn, staring down the Warg. It circled Thorin, a snarl deep in it's throat. An arrow sprouted from his chest, making it yelp. Myrin shot another arrow, another yelp, then Thorin finished it off with a blow to the chest. Thorin pulled his sword out of the carcass and turned around. "Behind you hobbit," He yelled. I turned around just in time to get pounced on by another Warg. This one had a rider. The rider got off and drew his sword, his bloodshot eyes scanning me like prey. Lakita screeched and bowled into the Warg, scarring the Orc. "Flamebird's here," He snarled, lowering his sword to my throat. I gulped, feeling the cold steel brush my skin. "Where she at, hum?" Dwalin bowled into the Orc, knocking his sword away from my throat. I got up and looked around. Everyone was fighting somesort of thing, most of them were Wargs. Two other Orcs were there, fighting Thorin. Kili loosed an arrow and sent another Warg down, Fili stabbed it for good measure. Just as suddenly as it started, the fight ended, leaving everyone breathless. "Oakenshield," An Orc hissed. Thorin scowled at the creature as it heaved it's last breath. "You won't surrvive the nigh', Master will find you. And he'll take you down-" "Who is your master," Myrin hissed back, sword point at his throat. The creature chuckled, sending chills down my spine. It turned it's head and stared right at her, the scarriest smile on it's face. "You know him, Flamebird," It wheezed at her. "After all-" He said something in another language and Myrin stiffened. It's voice trailed off, and it's breathing stopped. "Get the ponies ready to ride," THorin ordered. Nobody moved. "NOW!" 'We can't, they bolted again," Nori shouted from where we left them last. "Then pack up, leave all the food, get ready to move out," Dwalin shouted. I stared at the warrior. No food?! How did he expect us to manage?! "No take the food, they'll follow us even without it," Thorin snapped back. I snapped out of my trance and sprinted to my pack, shoving everything into it that I could. I cast a glance at Myrin. She was still at the dead Orc, sword still out and at it's throat. She seemed frozen. "Myrin, come on," Fili shouted. Myrin snapped out of her own trance and started to pakc her bags back up. Her hands trembled as she rolled up her bedroll, so I walked over and helped her pack up. "Thanks Bilbo," She said quietly. Something was up, she never called me Bilbo unless something wasn't right. I strapped her bedroll to the saddle on Lakita. "What did the Orc say," I asked her. "Nothing..."

"What did the Orc really say Myrin," I asked as we wound back down the path from the mountains. One solid week of running, then nothing. No Orcs waking us up in the middle of the night, no fighting for our lives again, not even a peep from the Orcs since my feet touched stone. That's when Thorin adn Gandalf actually agreed on something, send back a scouting party, just to make sure that we really were safe. Myrin quickley volenteered, needing a reason to, "Get away from Dwalin!" Que sticking tongue out. Dwalin and Myrin had a fight a few days ago, all in Khuzdul, so I don't know what it was about. Then Kili shoved me forward, so I was picked to head back with Myrin. Right now, we had our backs pressed against a rock, breathing heavily from the quick climb. Myrin looked at me from under her white hood. She gripped her bow a litte harder, turning her knuckles white. "He said I knew who was hunting us," She said quietly. She took a deep, steady breath, slid up the rock and peered over it. Myrin ducked back under. "Are they there," I mouthed. She nodded adn peered over again. I turned over and looked down. Twelve Orcs were at the edge of the stone, ten more on the Wargs, eleven Wargs in all. One with a large scar across his face stood up and howled something to the others. He got on his Warg and they rode off, leaving a plume of dust behind them. They disappeared from sight adn Myring sighed. "What did he say," I asked. "They're going to report to their leader," She said while standing up. I got to my feet and brushed myself off. "Any idea who's that," I asked. "Nope," She said quickley. A little too quick.... We trotted back to the camp, over the spires of rock and sparse foilage. Fili and Kili met us at the gap in the path where we were resting in a little grotto. If we weren't running for our lives, I would of thought it beautiful. Lichen covered the entrance, just inside was covered in soft moss. About ten feet in was a nice creek fed pond, the water cool and sweet. The grotto was walled on four sides, the only entrance through the lichen, about fourty feet by twenty of floor space, that wasn't counting the pond. If it wasn't for Kili actually, we wouldn't of found it. I walked over to the pond and cupped my hands, drinking handfulls. Myrin just stuck her face in and gulped. When she resurfaced, her face was red from the cold. It was rather comical. "Well," Thorin asked. He was leaned up on a wall, arms folded, glaring at Myrin. Well, glaring wasn't the right word, but it was what best discribed the look on his face. "They've turned back, something about someone's territory and the consiquences if they crossed the border," Myrin said, brushing the wet strands of ahir from her face. She frowned and brushed her tongue across her teeth, through her lips and repeated the process. She reminded me of a cat and a hairball. She gagged adn grabbed something off her tongue. With her mouth wide open, tongue out, she pulled out the longest strand of hair from her mouth. If I had something in my stomach, it would  emptied it's self when Myrin finished. "Hairball done," Kili asked. He looked a little sick. Myrin looked at him and smirked. When he looked at her face, she started the process again, sending him reeling.

Well, that had to be the best night's sleep I had in a while... Then again, that was the first time in a week I had slept without getting attacked by Orcs and or Wargs. Someone moaned, so I knew we didn't get attacked in the night and I was in heaven. Still though, I peeked an eye open and met moss. Nope, not dead yet. "Can you get it undone," Someone whispered. I opened up both my eyes, wondering what someone was trying to get undone. Across the pond, where Thorin had hunkered down for the night next to Fili and Kili, I saw the princes working on some sort of red/black thing. I sat up and pulled my coat around my torso. I waddled over to Fili and Kili, yes waddled because my stomach was still full from the wonderful dinner we had last night. I touched Kili's shoulder and he jumped with a yelp. "What are you two doing," I asked. "Trying to undo their hair," Fili whispered, guesturing to the mess of red and black. That's when I remembered who had black and red ahri like that. "What did you two do," I shouted at them. "Nothing," Kili shouted, quieter then me but still pretty loud. "Okay, so we tried to braid their hair together again, and we did. It was fine when we went back to sleep, but when we woke up this morning...." Kili looked at the mess of tangles making up Myrin adn Thorin's hair. They were back to back, both snoring quietly, bundled in their own sperate blankets too. "Get out of the way," I shouted. I crouched next to Myrin and started to work on her hair, pulling at the knots and tangles. "What did you do, knot every other strand," I growled at the two idiots next to me and in front of me. I pulled a little to hard on part of Thorin's hair and he moaned, starting to wake up. "Take cover," I hissed at Fili and Kili. I got to my feet and sprinted back to my roll, threw the blankets over me and went still, but that didn't mean my brain didn't. Why did Myrin decide to sleep right there?! I mean, it was just asking Fili and Kili to do something! Another thing I had learned about dwarves was that they had a fire within them, and that menat that they were unnaturally warm. First time I found out, I thought that Bofur ahd gotten sick! I had noticed that Myrin was warmer then the rest, Kili said she had a fire brighter then most. That gets staying warm out of the way! Fili and Kili slept next to Thorin most of the time, and I knew that they and Myrin had something like a family like connection, maybe that's why..... Maybe, maybe not, but I had a feeling that wasn't it. Kili yelped half heartedly as something thumped. "Kili get up," Thorin hissed quietly. "Good morning Thorin," Kili mumbled through a yawn. I peeked over and almost laughed. Kili had this doppy smile on his face, looking at Thorin, who was frowning at him. "Get this undone," Thorin hissed again. "Get what undone?" Thorin growled and pointed to the back of his head. Myrin's entire hair had been braided all the way up his hair, all the way to his scalp, same with Thorin's to Myrin's. Kili's face fell. He elbowed Fili, who was right up, bleery eyed, eyes crossed. He reminded me of Radagast. Kili and Fili whispered quickly and quietly, then turned back to Thorin. "Neither of us can fix that," Kili whispered. Thorin growled again. That's when Bofur woke up. "Good morning," He mumbled as he sat up. His eyes flicked open as he reajused his hat. "Oh my...... Looks like you could use a tinker's hand...." Thorin growled again, but he motioned for Bofur to come over. As Bofur worked on the braid, for the next hours or so, everyone got up and put away camp. When they were finished with that, Bombur got cooking, and I decided to get up. Faking sleep that long can't be good for you. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and let them open. The sun was pouring into the grotto now, so it had to be around eleven in the morning. How I missed elevensies.... Bofur was still working at Thorin and Myrin's hair, and Myrin was still sleeping. Thorin was whispering orders to everyone, obviously very annoyed that he was stuck on the ground. Myrin moaned and all the people by her head, Thorin Bofur Fili and Kili, stiffened. All those who could hid out of her eyesight. In fact everyone, myself included, kept away from her vision. She mumbled something in Khuzdul and sat up. "We're right here," Kili made the mistake of saying. Myrin's eyes widened and she attempted to get up. "Why did you let me over sleep," She shouted while getting up. "Stop yanking," Thorin adn Bofur shouted, pulling on the hair to get her back down. "You stop yanking," Myrin shouted back. She fingered the begining of the braid, frowned and followed it down. As she did, her face turned sour, and when she touched Thorin's head, she turned around adn looked about ready to snap him. "I didn't do it," Thorin said, holding up his hands. Myrin's scowl turned even more cold, I didn't think it possible. "I know for a fact that I didn't, so who in Durin's name did!?" Few seconds of silence. "FILI AND KILI, GET YOUR SCRAWNY REAR ENDS OVER HERE AND HELP BOFUR UNTANGLE THIS MESS YOU TWO MADE!" Her loud voice rang through the mountains for a good while, left my ears ringing even longer then that. Fili and Kili ran towards the old tinker, who was shouting orders at the two shamed princes. Another good hour of hair care before Bofur came to a little problem. "I can't untangle this," He announced, sitting back on his heels. Silence fell over the company. All eyes, and ears turned towards Thorin. "We've wasted too much daylight already," Thorin growled. "Cut it..." Bofur clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip, but brought his pack over. He pulled out a pair of sciscors. "Hold on, let me see if I can untangle that," I shouted, scrambling over to Thorin adn Myrin. "We can't have a king shaved, can we," I added quickley. I crouched down between the two and looked the tangle over. There wasn't an end I could start at, so I started at Thorin's scalp. I wiggled my finger into the little gap I created when I pulled on the braid towards Thorin, then I pulled out Myrin's hair. Eventually, both their hair was untangled, sure it was a little wet, and we lost another two hours, but they hadn't lost a single lock. I dropped the last lock from Thorin's hair like a hot coal. "Done," I said, rubbing my face, which had been in a scowl the past two hours. Thorin jumped up, gathered his things together, and was ready within the next ten minuets. Myrin took a little longer, but she had to braid her hair again. We set out again, winding up the rocky terrain, slipping on the wet rocks, sometimes making more progress backwards then forwards. When we camped for th enight, however, we made substantual progress into the mountains. Everyone took a seat and pried their boots off their feet. Bofur promptly fainted at Dwalin's raw foot. Kili, who was sitting close to the seasoned warrior, snatched his boot and swished his hand in it, looking for something, I wasn't exactly sure what. "Ah-HA," Kili shouted, pulling out a little knife that had come loose off of a hidden sheath on the side of the boot. He twirled it in his hand as he set the boot back down, smirking smuggly at Dwalin. As Oin wrapped Dwlain's foot a few minuets later, Dwalin snatched his boot back, his little dagger too. "Stop yanking," Myrin shouted, drawing all the company's eyes. That's when I saw the most bazzar thing, Thorin was braiding Myrin's hair. "It would help if you hadn't lost my comb yesterday," Thorin countered. "It wasn't my fault you kept it in my bag, and it- Okay, it was my fault I forgot to tie the opening, but you should keep your things in your bag, not in mine! STOP YANKING!" Fili and Kili were trying not to explode via laughter, everyone else was trying to piece together what was going on. I knew exactly what was going on, I helped it happen actually. That was before I knew that Fili and Kili were braiding their hair together. I brought my sack over and pulled out my own comb, then threw it at Myrin. "Thanks hobbit," She said when she caught it. Thorin took it from her hand, and the night continued as normal as it could. I burrowed down in my roll after my watch. I found it weird that Thorin braided Myrin's hair. He just didn't seem like the type to do that.

[quixotic-writer]

Switch it Up (Sal’s POV)

request: @birdgirl1772

summary: For some mysterious reason, Q and Sal wake up in the other’s body. After a quick pep talk they both agree that they’ll pretend to be each other for the day and hope they’re back to normal the next day. As Sal does some cleaning around Q’s place, he stumbles upon a journal and can’t help but give in to curiosity and dive into what’s between the lines of Q’s rambles.

———————————————————

“meow!” Was all I heard as I feel something small and warm curl up against my face. I feel myself slowly rising from my sleepy state and it’s quickly replaced with confusion. The moment I manage to open my eyes, a black cat was mere inches from my face staring down at me with beady green eyes.

“AAAH!” I let out a scream and fall out of bed in attempts to distance myself away from the cat. When I screamed though, it didn’t sound anything like my voice at all, it had a low bass to it and felt as though I spoke with an accent. My hand shoots to cover my mouth and my eyes are wide and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

As I look at everything that surrounds me, I am now quickly noticing a list of things: this isn’t my room, there’s — not one but— THREE cats surrounding me, and my voice isn’t mine, nor is this body. I look at the tattoos on the arms but my vision feels so blurred that I can only make out the shapes of them. I quickly pick my now sore body up off the floor and rush into the bathroom.

“Q?!” I spat to the reflection in the mirror with a sense of shock and awe. I stare at each and every detail of the body I now reside in, familiar with it because it was my best friends, but it all felt dysmorphic at the same time because his body is built entirely different from mine. I knew this body wasn’t supposed to be mine, but I was still the one controlling it and there’s no escaping that it seemed. I bring my hand to my face and rub it across feeling the stubble of the beard tickle my palms and finger tips insuring that this wasn’t a dream.

As I continue to play around in the mirror and marvel at the sticky situation i’ve found myself in, I feel the cats begin to brush up against my legs and mewl. I jolt at the sensation and feel the anxiety of my feline phobia well up in my stomach, but there isn’t much I can do since they seem to think i’m Q.

“I guess I should feed you guys, huh?” I speak down to the cats who chatter in response. I step out of the bathroom to head downstairs but I suddenly jump at the sound of a phone ringing. Looking to the nightstand I see Q’s phone ringing with my contact ID lit up on it. ‘Sally Boy♡” it read, a very effeminate name for me. It didn’t bother me, it was actually kind of cute.

“Hello?”

“Sal! Thank god you picked up. What the hell is going on?!” Judging by the sheer panic and the speech pattern and also the blatantly obvious answer: it was definitely Q on the other end of the line. Is that really what my voice sounds like to other people?

“I guess we switched bodies or something. You don’t have anything important to do today that would need me to be you... right?”

“No, I don’t have anything. Do you have anything I have to do for you?” I pry into my memory to think of the seemingly endless list of things I usually have to do, but to my surprise nothing really comes to mind.

“Pretty sure I got lunch with Gatto today, nothing else I can think of. But check my calendar in my phone just in case, and for the love of god DO NOT destroy my house.” The line goes dead and I know Q doesn’t wanna hear it. He’s the complete opposite of me as far as cleanliness goes, if even one thing is out of place if I ever get back to my own body, he’ll never hear the end of it.

I turn on my heels and go to feed the cats as I had initially planned, carefully tip toeing around them so I don’t touch them or stomp on them on accident. As soon as their breakfast is made and served, I retreat upstairs to get myself cleaned up. It’s still a shock every time I walk past any reflective surfaces and see the i’m not actually me.

I brush my teeth, comb my hair, wash my face; the normal things anyone does when they wake up. As I go to spray some cologne, I get a quick whiff of it and just soak in the scent. Q always did smell hypnotically good to me, every time he walked past a gust of it would hit my nose and I would just stop what I was doing to take it in.

“That sounds kinda creepy.” I say out loud to myself and my thoughts come to a halt. I step out of the bathroom and take a look at all the details of Q’s room. It’s a mess to say the least. Clothing everywhere, it looks like he hasn’t dusted in here in ages, his work desk in the corner of his room is riddled with piles upon piles of paper and is completely disheveled. I know this isn’t a matter of a “system” going on, I just know he has a hard time keeping up with things sometimes especially when his depression weighs down on him a little harder on certain days.

I step over to his desk first to try and make sense of the clutter and piles and try to organize them so that he’ll know where they are and why they’re arranged so specifically.

“Notes from a meeting. Notes from another meeting. Paid bill. Fan mail. Contract.” I shuffle through and assign them a pile until I reach a composition book at the pit of all the papers. The front has nothing written on it so I saw no harm in peeking inside and turning to the first page and reading it.

My therapist suggested I started keeping a journal/diary since I tend to lose track of time and have a hard time remembering certain things. It seems stupid but why not give it a shot.

I stop reading immediately and my eyes go wide and pause on the last word I read on the page. This is his DIARY, I can’t be reading this. I flip the pages and see almost half the book is filled with endless scrabbles of words of what’s going on in his head. I’ve never been good at reading Q’s mind quite like he can with mine, he’s always so closed off about his emotions and curiosity is enticing me to read every word on these pages.

“This is so wrong.” I say holding the notebook closed with my forefinger creating an open gap of temptation between the pages. I look around quickly and look back down at the notebook and slowly open it back up. “Maybe... skimming things wouldn’t hurt. Right?” And with that, I was nose deep in the notebook.

Today at set we filmed Sal’s punishment, it was payback for the time the boys thought it would be funny to put tarantulas all over me. I went in early to play with the little cats and kittens that were brought in for the day and I had never felt happier. Nothing brings me more joy than to just be around animals. That joy was quickly taken away though. It was funny at first seeing the little kittens all over him. It was all just mild discomfort it seemed, it wasn’t SCARY since they were small and harmless to him. But when we brought in the actual cats, that’s when I really started feeling bad. He was drenched in sweat, his throat seemed hoarse from the sheer panic and stress to the point where he could barely get anything out, his body looked like it was ready to concave on itself because of the situation. I was laughing with Joe and Murr, but deep inside, I felt guilty because it was all my idea. I caused him pain. I know it’s a part of the game we play, but something about it just didn’t sit right. I just wanted to go and help him and hug him until he felt better. I wanted to say sorry over and over but I knew it would kind of raise some suspicions. So instead I kept quiet and played along... At least at the end of it I helped ease the tension and brought out Big Benjamin Cat. Sal seemed fine after that, and I think that’s the only reason it won’t really bother me for a while is because he was okay after it all. I hate seeing him hurt.

He felt bad about my punishment? This was truly news to me. The way he talked about it too, it seemed so endearing and despondent about the whole situation. Now i’m intrigued and enraptured by what’s within this book, all inhibitions have been thrown out the window and I quickly flip through a few pages and land on another page.

After today’s therapy session, i’ve noticed myself talking a lot about Sal. I love Gatto and I love Murr, let me preface all this with that. But I feel this magnetic connection to Sal that I don’t think i’ve ever really felt with anyone. He gets me even though I don’t tell him a lot, he’s just there for me. When I do tell him stuff, he handles it like it’s glass; He gives it a lot of care and attention. There’s no one else who makes me feel the way I do. It feels like this growing thing for a long time and I really don’t know what to make of it. I’ve tried sorting out all of these thoughts and emotions that go through my head with him, but I really just don’t know. I’m a grown man still confused and I think that’s what makes it hard. It’s also kind of scary because for so long i’ve just been seen as your standard single and sleeps around kind of guy and i’m kind of growing tired of that image but I can’t just wipe it away when its been stained on me for so long. I just hope one day I can sort this shit out and be honest with myself.

With each page that I devoured, I felt as though I was peeling away the layers of an onion and was slowly getting to the heart of it all. With each sentence it felt like I was suffering from whiplash because I kept doing double takes to all the seemingly outlandish remarks. What caught me incredibly off guard was the endless ramblings of me, his infatuation with the idea of me. The image of the mental ideas of Brian Quinn was slowly being pieced together like a puzzle with this journal. Without realizing how much time had passed or how much I had read, I had finally reached the last and most recent entry, the one that sent my heart into an inferno.

I think now is a good a time as any to finally come clean with myself. It’s time i’m honest with myself and I stop holding myself back, no more lying to myself, no more blind blatant ignorance, none of that. I’m Brian Quinn, and I admit it: I have fallen in love with my life long best friend Sal. Wow. It feels oddly invigorating to finally get that out of my system. Maybe my therapist was right about this journal thing. Yes, I love my best friend but I don’t know what to do about it. He’s honest with me and said he wouldn’t mind being with a guy and that gave me a small spark of hope, but I just don’t know if i’m a guy he’d be into or not. It could be an unrequited love situation for me and it would hurt a lot to have my heart crushed like that. But honestly, I don’t care if he doesn’t love me back, I just don’t ever want him to disappear out of my life. That’s what’s stopping me from just spouting it out and telling him the truth. I don’t want to scare him away, I don’t want him to feel awkward around me, I don’t want things to change for the worse. I just want Sal, in the sense of his presence, his companionship, his friendship. That’s all. Maybe one day i’ll have the confidence to tell him, but for now i’m just happy that i’m confident enough to tell myself the truth.

I sat there for an unknown period of time. I leaned back in the chair with my mouth slightly agape and brushing a hand through my hair, unsure of how to process everything that I just read. It felt like a guilty pleasure to finally know all of this about someone I thought I had pegged pretty well.

There’s one big detail that stood out loud and boldly to me: Q, my best friend, has fallen for me. It’s so crazy to read what’s on his mind and watching him figure this out and realize what the emotions were page by page.

I close the notebook and place it with all his other books neatly in the little nook of the desk and finish tidying things up. After another hour, his room was back in livable shape. I smile and beam with pride at my handiwork and hope this helps him feel a little more at peace in his own living space.

Just as he was headed downstairs, a knock on the door echoed through the quiet home. When the door opened, I was startled to see myself standing before me, forgetting for a brief moment that I wasn’t in my own body.

“Fucking hell Q, you could’ve at least texted.” I had a hand over my chest as my heart rate begins to subside from the mild scare of seeing myself standing before me. Q rolls his eyes and looks down and beams with jubilation to see the three cats prowling towards him.

“My babies!! Daddy’s home!!” He kneels down and gives a happy helping of pets and scratched to each one of them.

“So how’d lunch with Gatto go? Did he suspect anything?” Q picks up Brooklyn in his arms and cuddles her close and they both step into the house and seat themselves on the couch.

“Went fine. He did say that ‘you’ were acting strange today, he just said that i’ve been hanging out with Q too much. Little did he know that it was me!” He chuckles releasing Brooklyn from his arms and watches as she trots away. “How were things here? You seem fine with the cats since you’re not dead and none of them are missing.” I think back to the little notebook upstairs but try and play things cool as to not give anything away, he’ll talk to me when he’s ready. It’s not my place to pry at his emotions.

“Things were fine. I did tidy up your room though, just thought i’d help you out a bit. If and when we switch back, just ask if you need help finding anything.” I smile to him and he smiles back, it was a bashful smile and it made my heart melt. “Did you wanna order dinner or something?” I say into the silence of the living room.

“Well considering this technically is MY house, I say we eat my favorite pizza: a hot pepper pie from my favorite pizza joint. However, since you’re me, you’re gonna have to order.” I roll my eyes and open up my phone and see that Q has the pizza place’s number saved and on speed dial in his phone.

“Okay Q, c’mon dude you’re kidding me. Speed dial?” He gives a cheeky smile and shrugs his shoulders.

We order and eat the pizza and talk to each other about our experiences in the other’s body. Q got to experience the wonders of my sleep apnea, he told me how startled he was when he woke up with my mask on his face. I told him of how the cats wouldn’t leave me alone because they thought I was him, it got a hearty laugh out of him since he knows how uncomfortable they make me.

“Thanks for cleaning up my place Sal.” He says as we clean up our pizza mess.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. It’s hard to find time to keep things in line with our schedules, thought i’d help out a little.” He pauses for a moment and goes to play with his fingers and realizes he doesn’t have his usual ring to fidget with. He’s nervous and that was one of his tics, but I pretend not to notice and I wipe down the table.

“Sal, uuuuh... Weird question but did you clean my desk?” I know where he’s going with this.

“I did. Books in place, papers in stacks. Why?” I say innocently.

“There’s a... There’s a notebook... it’s for my therapist and stuff... sensitive info in there.” He’s sweating and his eyes are pleading that I don’t know anything. The guilt hits me harder than ever now, but I can’t do that to him, I don’t want to shatter that trust.

“I didn’t snoop around man, it’s none of my business and this is your space, I respect it even if i’m in your body.” His tensions seem to ease in that moment and his shoulders slumped to a relaxed position. I feel like crap lying to him like this, but if it means his comfort, then it’s a harmless white lie. I mentally make a promise that nothing I read would ever leave my memory, and that’s all it will ever remain to be: simple memories.

“Okay, thanks man. I’m gonna head back to your place and hope that when I wake up i’m surrounded by my cats and not a face full of apnea mask.” He jokes to me as he gathers his stuff to head back out.

“Make fun of my sleep apnea all you want, but now you know the pain I live with!” I joke with him as I let him out. We said good night to each other, and just like that I was left alone in the silence of Q’s home. It was late already so I figured I close this night out already and head to sleep.

I cleaned myself up and prepared for bed, slipping into a pair of pajama pants and brushing my teeth. I took one final look into the mirror hoping that when I woke up, I wouldn’t need a mirror to see his face. All I want tomorrow is to just give Q a hug as myself again.

I crawl into the sheet with the cats cuddled up against me. The cats have kind of grown on me today, dare I say that maybe I learned to love them a bit today. I close my eyes and shift around until I was in blissful rest.

When I woke up at last and opened my eyes, I saw as the husky rays of the sun shone through my window and the familiar hun of my sleep apnea machine filled my ears. I peel it off my face and rub off the sleepy sensation from my entire face. I lean over and grab my phone to see a text from Q waiting for me

We’re back in business baby!

Was all it read and I smiled to myself. I walked to the bathroom and was met with the delightful sight of my true reflection. It felt so good to be back in my own body, in my own house.

I head to the kitchen and fix myself up a griddled PB and J and sit at the table and eat with nothing but my thoughts to occupy me. Through that whole mess, I didn’t question the switch, I didn’t question why then. I only had one lingering question that seemed so insignificant:

What happened with Q and that lunch with Joe. I wonder if he found out some of my own sensitive information and didn’t say anything just like I had. Maybe one day I’ll be able to solve, but it just won’t be solved today.

———————————————————

A/N: Just wanted to say I loved playing around with this idea so much, that soon i’m gonna write this segment from Q’s POV ♪( ´▽｀)

[xsophie2x]

Teen Wolf Murder Mystery - Round 1 

OH NO!

The members of the Pack have been invited to a luxury dinner in a rich estate by a mystery person.

Once they get there, they were welcomed by a fanciful, wealthy man that lived there, that owned the estate, and his lovely happily cheerful cook.

As it turned out, they weren't the ones who invited the Pack out there. They're just the location.

By entrance, the members of the Pack can already catch a glimpse of the plates of tomato soup, with their names spelled in it with little letter noodles, standing in the kitchen. Even the hard ones, like Mieczyslaw Stilinski.

Unfortunately, the dinner didn't end in the merry way they were all hoping for, a drama unfolded, and now one of them is dead!  

Stiles Stilinski, best friend, boyfriend and confidant for all, the brains behind the gang, has eaten from his apparently poisoned soup, before breaking into a coughing fit and slumping forward over the table. And with him, lies a list of the people who were invited to dinner. With all of their names perfectly spelled on it, even the hard names, like Mieczyslaw Stilinski.

The other guests who were invited, and so the suspects, are Scott, Lydia, Malia, Liam, Mason and Theo.

BUT WHICH ONE OF THEM DID IT?

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ 

1 Once the owner of the house gets a knowledge of this, he immediately dips his finger in Stiles' soup, to taste just a little bit of it.

Poisoned.

Stiles was poisoned.

None of them can believe it. Who would do this? Who would do this, to their friend!?

And now they have to stay here, until the guilty one is found.

2 Luckily, there was a camera hanging nearby, filming everything that happened before and during dinner, and the Pack gets the idea to watch all the recordings back. With that, they come to a very valuable realization, that leaves them able to check off an innocent person who couldn't have done it. That person is allowed to go home.

From the fifteen little clues underneath, van you figure it out? Can you figure out who the innocent person is and who's allowed to go home?

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

1 "It looks very nice in here. Very expensive," Malia comments as they were seated at the table and she looked around at the ceiling and all the decorations around them. She was interrupted by Lydia's phone going off and the girl stood up, excusing herself. "Sorry, I have to take this. I was expecting a phone call." With that, she walks out into the entrance hallway.

2 Stiles' phone is the one to go off next. Immediately, his face turned serious, and he stood up to take his phone call in a quiet place as well.

3 "I wonder what they planned for us for dinner," Scott said, tapping his fingers on the table. "I think I saw some plates of tomato soup on our way in." And Liam nodded. The soup with their names in letter vermicelli had looked really mouth-watering.

4 "But it is cold here," Mason shivered. "You were-people aren't bothered by anything... I left my jacket in the car, I'm going to get it!"

5 Something shiny caught Liam's gaze from the corner his eye. Quickly, he grabbed the small item. "Mason!" he exclaimed, jumping up to run outside after his best friend. "Mason, you forgot the car keys!"

6 A rumbling sound interrupted the thoughts of the remaining Pack members still sitting at the table and they all looked up, towards the side.

"What?" Scott asked with a questioning look in his eyes, leaning back more against the back of his seat. "I'm hungry."

Laughter erupted from out the table at that. "We can hear that!" Stiles hiccupped.

7 Malia's phone was the last one to go off. She jerked up, seemingly a little startled, and following Stiles' and Lydia's examples, she stood up as well. "I'll be right back," she muttered as she stepped out into the hallway, already pulling out her phone from her pocket.

8 They hadn't expected dinner to take so long, all of them growing hungry by now like Scott, and Theo let out a tired sigh, squirming in his seat. "I'm going to the bathroom," he announced. "If we have to wait much longer..." With that, his last complaint grumbled softly under his breath, he stalked out of the dining room.

9 "I think it must be almost done now," Scott said, his stomach rumbling now and shifting to get more comfortable in his chair, as the delicious smell of the floated into the dining room.

They all agreed; it was mouth-watering.

10 And finally, the plates with tomato soup were brought into the dining room, and Scott looked at them hungrily.

"They look so good," Liam managed, licking his lips and already grabbing his spoon.

"They do! And look, they've actually spelled my name right!" Stiles cackled picking up his spoon, looking down at the letter vermicelli in his soup, spelling Mieczyslaw.

None of them could wait to eat and so they did, swallowing their first spoonful hungrily.

"Hmm," Lydia managed thoughtfully, licking her lips. "It's hot. Be careful." She wouldn't want her friends to burn their mouths.

Next to her, Stiles swallowed his sip, enjoying it for a moment, before seeming to swallow wrong and breaking out into a fit of coughs.

Lydia looked up, a soft chuckle escaping her. "I told you it was hot."

But Stiles didn't stop, he kept on coughing and the worry settled in, all of them looking up from their dinner and putting their spoons. And then Lydia tensed, a piercing scream escaping her mouth, and Stiles fell forward over the table, his eyes wide and scared and his body stiff.

Malia's eyes widened. Liam and Mason exchanged a look. Theo and Scott couldn't tear their eyes away. For this was a loss, and none of them had expected this.

Except one. And now the hunt had begun, to find who was responsible for this. They wished it would go different. But for now, it looked like they were going to stay in the estate.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

This is a Murder Mystery. I got the idea from a mystery tv-show I watched. I’m gonna post more rounds after this and the idea is that, with each round, you can cross off one person who is innocent. This is the first round and so, from the clues above, you can already cross off one person. Each round is a different puzzle or riddle.

You can keep count for yourself who is innocent this time. I feel like the fun might be gone for other people if they can see answers everywhere? Other than that, the person who is innocent in this round won’t be included in the next round, so that’s kind of a spoiler in itself. Because of that I might take a few days before I post the next round.

Anyway, I hope you’ll like this, have fun, and good luck!

[starswouldtell]

Bats

So here’s the fic that spun out of what I previewed yesterday! It got surprisingly long. Hope it makes you smile, because it’s definitely silly. Riddles are from here because I am not smart enough to write riddles! John Mulaney is The Riddler, I don’t make the rules. Also posted here on ao3. Hope you like how it all turned out in the end, @light-miracles! _________________________________________________

The Batcave, as it turns out, is an actual cave that is home to actual bats; and bats, Querl has decided, are up there with snakes on the list of creatures he does not particularly care for. He especially does not care for them fluttering around his head while incessantly squeaking and potentially biting when he is trying to work with even older tech than he’s managed to get used to.

How does Luke work like this? He sucks in a breath, exasperated, and tries to wave a bat away from his hair.

It’s a bit of a swap. Kate’s got important business in National City, and Kara's volunteered to spend the weekend in Gotham. It’s strange to see her dressed as Batwoman; a shadow instead of a ray of sun. Luke is with Kate, so Brainy is here; guiding Kara as best he can. It’s almost like working out of the DEO again, but with more flying rodents and a crumbling city infrastructure.

“Would you stop that?” He hisses, swiping at another bat. “Unless you’re going to help me find The Riddler, go-- hang somewhere. Not by me.”

“They really need to do something about the bats.” Mary sighs. “I seriously don’t want Kate to survive getting shot at and stabbed and blown up, then get rabies.” Her lower lip juts out at the thought. “They seem to particularly like you, though. Or dislike.” Her nose crinkles.

“Wonderful.” Brainy grimaces. He would also rather not get rabies.

“Any luck?” Kara’s voice comes over the comm. “There’s so much lead everywhere, how is that even allowed?”

“Different standards when these buildings were constructed.” He says offhandedly; frowns. “I’m combing through both street cameras and social media postings, but I don’t have anything concrete just yet. Only that you want to be on the eastern side of the city.” The beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of every end and the end of every race-- ‘E’, east; it had to be east. “I’m monitoring broadcasts as well to see if he turns up with another clue.”

“Do they all play games like this out here?”

“It’s not uncommon.” Mary answers sagely.

Kara huffs a sigh, preferring a more straightforward approach to her crime fighting. Brainy actually finds it rather exciting; he’s good at puzzles.

“I did stop two muggings, so that’s something! There might be a rumor that Batwoman can crush guns now, but that’s fine, right? Not a bad thing!”

Brainy smiles to himself and hears Mary laugh.

“Tomorrow morning Vesper Fairchild’s gonna be asking Gotham if Batwoman’s juicing.”

“Well-“

“I’ve got something,” Brainy’s back straightens and he brings up video of a rather inebriated young woman's livestream- “broadcast just fifteen minutes ago...”

“-then this weird guy said we should get a message to Batwoman.” She laughs. “It was... what was it? It was funny... Like we know Batwoman. What did he say?”

“When is the time of a clock like the whistle of a train?” Her friend supplies. “Who cares?”

“Hashtag Batwoman.”

“Follow us!”

He stops the feed; goes back... When is the time of a clock like the whistle of a train? That is... somewhat less obvious than the first riddle. He can feel Mary’s eyes on him; knows Kara is waiting.

“Brainy?” She asks after a long moment.

“I’m still... working this one out.”

“What is it? We’ll work it out together.”

It’s comforting, even if a little frustrating. He repeats the riddle, and Kara makes a thoughtful sound before-

“Oh!”

“You know it?”

“Two to two! Like toot toot!”

“Ah.” Brainy drags one hand down his face. “Apparently I need to brush up on my basic railroad noises. Pulling up the map, now... Ah! Perhaps number two on 2nd Street! It isn’t so far from the bar those women were attending and- yes, others are posting the same riddle... hashtag Batwoman.”

“Yes! We’re in business!”

Mary claps her hand together with a little cheer, and Brainy zeroes in on the location.

“It seems to be abandoned.”

“I’m almost there.”

“Maybe circle around the block- since you’re not out on the bike.” Mary suggests thoughtfully. Batwoman doesn’t have super speed. “We don’t know if he’s waiting for you in there, or if it’s gonna be another clue. Or a trap.”

“Right.” He can almost see Kara nod, slow down.

“Sprock-”

“Brainy?!”

“Sorry! Bat. Another bat. Uh- the building is old, so you may not be able to see through it, but if the DA is inside, you should be able to hear him, and The Riddler. If they are not inside...”

“I’ll be careful.”

Being able to see exactly what Kara does is a smart touch; credit where it’s due. These computers might be ancient, but Luke Fox uses them well (even if he did question if Querl could handle assisting Kara). After a few moments, she slips into the building.

“Got him.” The DA is tied to a chair in the center of the room, unconscious. Kara approaches slowly, but she and Brainy both go still when someone speaks...

“Now, why are you like a clock at midnight?”

“I believe,” Brainy says in Kara’s ear. “he wants you to put your hands up.”

Kara turns swiftly and lunges, dropping down to sweep The Riddler’s legs out from under him, but when he falls Kara hedges and Querl can’t blame her because the man looks incredibly pleased.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“What?” Kara, Querl, and Mary say it in unison.

“You’re clever! I thought it might be fun; a bit of a scavenger hunt with the Batwoman!”

“You kidnapped the DA!” Kara says indignantly.

“Well, I assumed you’d find him. And you did! Look, he’s fine- he just had a couple benadryl.” He stands up, walks to the man tied to the chair and taps him lightly. “For a mild antihistamine it’s surprisingly potent.”

“You... what?”

“It was exciting, wasn’t it? You are clever, I thought it would take you longer.” He starts to clap, looking genuinely impressed, and Querl stares. “Well played!”

“You don’t kidnap an innocent person for fun.” Back on her feet, Kara puts her hands on her hips.

“I mean, he takes bribes, I figured maybe he’d earned a little scare too.”

Kara’s palm slaps to her face.“You realize I’m taking you to the police, right?”

“How many sides does a circle have?”

“Are you serious right now?”

Then he leaps out the window.

Querl shakes his head. Mary stares at the monitor in bemusement.

Gotham.

Getting up, Brainy jumps at the almost immediate fluttering and squeaking in his ear.

Bats!

[frunbuns]

Dolores

How could he be so naive to think they’d take back a broken mannequin riddled with bullet holes? He’s such an idiot.

Read on Ao3

Five isn’t exactly sure how he got roped into this. Actually, that’s not true. He does know. He needs new clothes. He just wishes he wasn’t here right now.

He only agreed because Allison and Vanya had been so insistent on getting him normal clothes. And they were right. He was getting pretty sick of the school uniform. And it helped a lot that Delores was at that store. He misses her. A lot.

He did however, not agree to all the other siblings tagging along as well. He’d rather be without that circus. But it was too late now. It could be worse. And they could probably use some family bonding time anyway. Even though he can’t stand them sometimes, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

The store isn’t too crowded. Thank god. It has to be strange to see all of them walking in together though. They’re a bit of a mess, to put it lightly.

This wasn’t exactly the place Allison had in mind, but Five might not have agreed if it wasn’t here. At the store where Delores “lives” or whatever he called it.

“C'mon, let’s go,” Allison says, basically dragging him after her. “Boy’s section is over here.”

Five sighs as his sisters drags him through the store and dozens of clothing racks before he even has time to think about seeing Delores. He’ll just talk to her afterwards.

“Maybe we’ll find something that fits Luther?” Klaus ponders out loud, making the others (except Luther) snort in amusement.

Five rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. He’d never admit it, but he really missed this. Even if it was annoying sometimes. This was what he had spent the last 45 years of his life working to get back to. He wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.

They come to a halt at the 13-15 section, bordering adult and 10-12, or whatever it is. He hates everything he sees.

“We could probably get stuff from the adult section, but I think we’ll have the most luck here,” Allison says, oblivious to his attitude towards the array of clothes. Vanya nods examining their choices.

“I doubt you’ll find anything that fits there since he’s so small,” Diego says, earning a light shove from Five.

“I’m not that small!” He retorts back. “I’m taller than Vanya!”

Diego raises his hands in mock surrender, a smug smile on his face. “Barely.”

Klaus laughs, making the faintest of smiles appear on Five’s face.

“See anything you like?” Vanya asks, bringing them back to what they came here for.

“No.”

Vanya blinks, looking a bit dumbfounded by his statement. “Nothing?” She asks.

Five shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his short’s pockets. He glances around again, but finds that nothing catches his attention, just like before.

He’s never been clothes shopping before. At the academy they just wore their uniforms and in the apocalypse he took what he could find to survive. The winters were cold and the summers full of ash and a burning sun. He spent time worrying about heatstrokes and hypothermia. What the clothes looked like never mattered.

The sweltering summers and freezing winters is defintley not something he misses.

Vanya pulls out a blue tshirt with some text about playing video games on from one of the racks and looks it over before showing it to Five. “What about this one?” She asks, cocking her head.

He raises an unimpressed brow as he looks at it.

“If you think I’d be caught dead wearing that you truly are the dumbest member of this family,” He says, gesturing to it with his right hand. “Which says something because Luther here–”

“Okay, we get it!” Luther sighs, expassarated.

“Aww, don’t be such a grump, Five,” Diego says in a teasing tone. “You can go see your girlfriend afterwards.”

Five shoots him a death glare, but doesn’t say anything. Diego grins at him innocently before sauntering off claiming he needs to get some stuff for himself.

And suddenly it’s just Five, Vanya and Allison. They find some clothes for him eventually. It’s not much, but it’s a start at least.

He’s just glad he doesn’t have to wear the uniform anymore. People have called him a little school boy too many times. Delores would be happy that he didn’t have to wear that stupid uniform anymore too.

He wonders if she misses him as much as he misses her.

Allison pays. Of course she does. She’s the one in the family with the most money, even though their father left them all a pretty hefty sum after he died. It might be the mother in her. Even though it can be annoying at times, he appreciates it. In her defence he does look like a child.

Five is excited to see her. He wonders how she’s been. Of the store workers have been treating her and her friends well. He wonders what she’s wearing. He’d told them she liked sequence.

He wonders if they listened to him.

His feet take him there pretty much automatically. Like muscle memory. He walks with practically a skip in his steps, like a child. Allison and Vanya behind, struggling to keep up with him, but not complaining either.

They’re talking and smiling and Five realises that they’ve never actually met Delores. All his brothers have, in one way, shape or form. He hopes they like her. And that Delores likes them.

He comes to a sudden halt when he spots the podium she usually stands, breath hitching in his throat. Vanya and Allison almost crashes into him. Their chatter dies off.

His heart sinks. Arms falling limp to his sides and the smile he wore just seconds ago, dropping.

“Five?” He feels a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright?” He looks up only to be met with the concerned faces of his sisters. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“She–” He starts. “She’s not–”

“What?” Vanya asks.

“She– She’s not there!”

Delores isn’t there. This is her spot, but she’s not here. And neither are her friends. Instead, 3 white, faceless mannequins stand in their place.

His breath catches in his throat.

“Are you sure?” Allison asks. “Maybe she’s just somewhere else?”

He shakes his head, blinking away the stinging sensation in his eyes and swallows thickly. This is her spot. He’s 100% certain this is her spot. If she was somewhere else he would have seen her. His shoulders slump.

They try to find her anyway, searching every part of the store, Five growing more and more upset for every second. In the end the trio ends up at the same place they started with no promising results.

Five looks up at the mannequins seething. Traitors, his brain says. How dare they? This was– is her spot.

“What’s going on?” It’s Diego. He’s holding a packet of black socks in his hand.

“It’s Delores.”

Diego’s expression falls. “Oh,” He mumbles then. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” Allison replies, sadly. “We’ve looked everywhere. They must have thrown her out or something.”

“That sucks,” Diego says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, bro.”

Five sniffles, his face crumbling. He can’t stop his lips from quivering and when Allison sees that she’s quick to envelope him in a firm, motherly hug. The bag of his new clothes dropped to the ground by her feet. Five doesn’t fight her, instead choosing to wrap his arms tightly around her and bury his face in her shirt.

In the apocalypse, when he’d found his siblings buried in the rubble he’d had no one. He’d cried for what felt like a week straight. Until his voice was raw and barely usable (not that anyone was there to hear him though). And then he’d found her. And suddenly he wasn’t so lonely anymore.

He’d been so young and scared then.

“I’m so sorry,” She says, stroking his hair.

At that he completely crumbles. It’s as if the dam breaks, choked sobs muffled by the fabric of Allison’s clothes.

How could he be so naive to think they’d take back a broken mannequin riddled with bullet holes? He’s such an idiot.

It’s frankly quitw embarrassing. This whole ordeal. They way he’s just bawling his eyes out in the middle of a store for everyone to see, but he can’t help it. He’d blink out of the store, but Allison’s embrace is so warm and comforting and he doesn’t want to be alone. So he stays.

It doesn’t take long before Klaus and Luther to notice something was up and come over to them as well. In Klaus’ hand was a huge knitted sweater. No doubt something he had found for Luther. It’s soon forgotten as the scene unravels before them.

“What happened?” Luther asks, looking worriedly over his siblings.

Vanya puts her hands in her jacket pockets and looks up at him with sad eyes. “It’s Delores.”

Luther’s eyes widen, eyebrows raising, in surprise. He looks down at Five who’s currently soaking Allison’s clothes with his crocodile tears and then looks back at Vanya, mouth opening in the form of an ‘o’.

“Oh, Buddy,” Klaus coos, patting his back as a means of comfort. “I’m sorry.”

For once Five doesn’t care about whatever stupid nickname Klaus has called him.

His sobs subside eventually, turning into small sniffles. His hold on Allison slackens slightly, but he doesn’t let go.

“Excuse me, is something wrong?”

One of the employees has come over to them. She looks concerned and a little bit uncomfortable as she greets them.

Vanya shakes her head, but Diego interreups her before she can even speak. His protective nature taking over. He’s always felt like he needed to protect everyone. Even when they don’t need it.

“Actually,” He says, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to the mannequins that used to be here?”

The girl looks at him baffled. “Uh, I think we threw them out.” She answers, looming more than just a little bit puzzled at his strange question.

Diego sighs dejectedly, but nods. “Thanks, that’s all,” He replies with a smile, albeit sadly. She smiles at him and leaves. Once she’s gone he pats Five’s back. “Let’s go home, huh?”

Five nods and they all leave the store. Five with tear stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, Allison’s arm around him.

“It’s gonna be okay, Five,” Allison says. “Just think about all the good memories you have of her.”

Five sniffles, but nods.

At least he’s not alone. He has his family. And they care about him just as much as he cares about them. He’s not alone.

[jabbers-written-world]

Jabber’s Writings

Blossoms of the Heart

All right, ladies and gents and nonbinary friends! As it stands, I am currently beginning work on a novel series called Blossoms of the Heart. I don’t know how many books will be in the series. I don’t know how many of you will be interested. I don’t even know how this series will end! But guess what. That’s where you guys come in.

Blossoms of the Heart is planned to be a series of novels surrounding the female lead. Princess Alyria of Belanor. She is nineteen years old, and her father King Aldric has sent her to live at the secluded family estate, far away from the castle. Now, you may be wondering why he would send his daughter away. Is there a threat? Did she anger him in some way? Perhaps he’s ashamed of her behavior? None of these, my friends. The plot here is something far more interesting and exciting.

King Aldric has sent Princess Alyria to live in the family estate, alongside fifty young men all vying for her hand in marriage. Yes, that’s right. King Aldric has sent his daughter to live with her suitors, for as long as it takes for her to finally choose a husband. Now, this may seem like unfair treatment, to leave his daughter alone with fifty young men all competing for her. It even seems like it could be dangerous. So many possibilities for what may happen if these gentlemen are left unchecked, with only the princess.

Well, that’s just it. Alyria has insisted to her father that she would rather marry for love, than just for politics or because she’s told to do so. So, he is letting her make her own choices, and get to know these young men on her own, so that she may possibly fall in love with one of them, and finally take a husband. To protect their family line, and so that he no longer has to worry about what will happen to their kingdom when he is no longer there.

Oh, and don’t worry. She isn’t left alone with just her suitors. She has all of her most trusted attendants and staff right alongside her as well. All of these individuals are present for her protection, her support, and to ensure she is well taken care of while she is away from the castle. All of them as well, are people her father trusts most with his daughter’s well-being. And they are as follows:

Harrison, her direct attendant and confidant, as of the last seven years. He is elusive, and hardly shows his true feelings, but he is the most capable individual of all the staff present. In a test years ago to earn a place attending to royalty, as is Belanorian custom, there was no one who could compete with this man.

Devon, her favorite cook who has a mysterious way of knowing all that goes on around him, despite rarely leaving the kitchens. He’s a riddle, inside a puzzle, wrapped in a mystery and bound in an enigma. He tends to keep to himself and not cause much trouble, but there are others who seem to want to cause trouble with him.

Elias, the groundskeeper she adores dearly and who manages the horses, though for some unknown reason he doesn’t dare enter the estate unless absolutely necessary, and it could be due to what seems like a secret feud between him and Harrison.

Haru, the secondary captain of her father’s guard who she has known since they both were children, and who so often is like an older brother to her, especially in the way he teases her and even perhaps bullies her a little.

Crosjando, the weaponsmaster who has taught her self-defense and genuinely cares for her safety, and who also manages the excess energy of the suitors by keeping them busy in the training yard.

Gintoki, the king’s advisor who has been lent to Alyria in case she may need his input on these matters (don’t worry, he has another he can rely on back at the castle), and while he may be a bit of grump, he is calmed by his cat and does genuinely care about the princess despite his gruff attitude. Though, he too may have a bit of a feud, and his is less than secret.

Rowain, the king’s most loyal soldier who has also been lent to Alyria for her time at the estate. He is bound by an oath of honor and a life debt to serve King Aldric in whatever his wishes may be, and he is genuinely loyal to the man, and to Alyria. He is her greatest asset alongside Harrison and Gintoki.

Vasha, the djinn that was once given to King Aldric as a gift but instead bonded to Alyria and so now follows her everywhere. He’s mischievous and clever, and more than a little prideful, but truth be told, what djinn isn’t? He doesn’t always obey Alyria, and instead prefers to tease her, but she trusts him with everything. More so than anyone else.

And of course, Alyria has a few maids and housekeeping staff around the estate as well. Which is of course beneficial, since her male attendant Harrison cannot accompany her for certain tasks regarding her privacy. It would be far too indecent to have a man assisting the young lady in bathing or changing her clothes. And that is why the female staff are present for such things. Still, they all report to Harrison, as he is head of staff.

Now, that brings us to the suitors. Fifty young men of all sizes and species, and varying ages, and they are all vying for Alyria’s attention. Some are more polite than others, some are crude, some are lords in their own right, others are of the more common people. The king left it all up to Alyria to decide, and so did not discriminate based on class or species, especially considering that Alyria herself is half-fae. That being said, let us discuss these young men. They are as follows:

Adam, the quiet and loner-ish half-Minotaur from Kalein. He is 21 years of age, and due to his Minotaurian heritage, he has been largely discriminated against. Even King Aldric was hesitant to allow him as a suitor, but gave in with only one condition. If Adam could defeat the strongest castle guards in fair combat, then he would be requested to protect Alyria and stay by her side even if he doesn’t win her affections. Adam agreed, and defeated the guards with barely any harm done. Only minor scrapes, and nothing at all that painful. He treated the men with kindness in battle, and intentionally did not hurt them. He only subdued them, and so has been allowed as one of Alyria’s suitors.

Aden, the charitable half-elf from Kalein. 19 years of age, he is genuinely kind-hearted if perhaps just a little reckless at times. But what he lacks in impulse control, he makes up for in generosity and.. perhaps a little too much honesty. It may be a benefit that he’s as straightforward and direct as he is, even when admitting to his feelings, or it may be off-putting and drag him down instead. Aside from that though, Aden is always willing to lend a hand, to anyone who needs it.

Aladi, the enthusiastic Ha’adani tailor with stories to tell. Also 19 years of age, Aladi has an abundance of energy and good cheer, even if there is a hidden darkness behind it. He has his secrets that he’s hiding behind that smile, and it isn’t just that he used to be a thief. Still, he’s kind and always there to help cheer someone up. The problem is that he has fast hands and a fast tongue. So, by the time Alyria or anyone else may have caught up with the conversation, he’s already taken measurements and mentally chosen fabrics.

Alekai, the younger of a pair of half-demon brothers from Tesak. 19 years of age, Alekai can be considered the more mild-mannered and sweet-natured of the two brothers. He’s often the one apologizing for his brother Eivan’s temper, and is more adaptable and not quite so stubborn. Still, he blames himself for the injuries his older brother sustained on his behalf, and if he could turn back time and fix it all, he would. He loves his brother, but he worries that the elder of the two hates him and blames him for all that happened.

Archer, the gluttonous demon monkey from Belanor. Like quite a few of Alyria’s suitors, he is 19 years of age and full of life. He’s stubborn and a bit of a hot-head, and honestly, he thinks more with his stomach than with his head. He’s an honest sort, even if he is a little slow on the uptake from time to time. He loves to eat, and will happily do so all day, but don’t think he can’t defend himself. Oh, and don’t ask why he’s a monkey without a tail, he doesn’t like to talk about that particular incident.

Arten, the chivalrous knight of the Belanorian guard. 23 years of age, and one of the older suitors at the estate, Arten has actually known Alyria, or Lia as he calls her, for a good portion of her life. Orphaned at a young age when his parents were killed by undead, Arten trained to become stronger and specifically, to fight the undead. When he was sixteen, he offered his services to King Aldric, who.. at first didn’t take him seriously. But when a roaming skeleton attacked the king while out on a hunt, and the creature was quickly dispatched by Arten, King Aldric gave the young man a high honor, and of course made him a member of the guard.

Avis, the ever-praised phoenix of Ha’adan. 21 years of age, and raised as a god. Avis knows he isn’t truly a god, but all he has ever known was growing up in a shrine in Ha’adan, and told he was their god. He has no knowledge of where he really came from, but he knows he isn’t of Ha’adani heritage. Recently, he left the shrine to venture out on a sort of pilgrimage to hopefully find answers, though he is a bit shy when meeting new people. However, while roaming Belanor, he took one look at Aurelia and was infatuated.

Balthazar, the gentleman dragon of Belanor’s seaside. 19 years of age, Balthazar comes from a long line of dragon chieftains, but he was separated at a young age from his clan and instead found himself washed up on the shore of an abandoned shipyard. He has tried over the years to find his clan again, only to learn in recent years that they had all been slaughtered. So he is the last in his line, and it is up to him to carry on their heritage. Upon discovering he was the only one left, Balthazar at first attempted to throw himself into the sea in a fit of despair, but he was rescued by an avian Beast named Marius. The two have been friends ever since, though Marius may deny it. Still, Balthazar knows. They are definitely friends.

Bartleby, the feral but friendly Beast of Belanor. 21 years of age, Bartleby used to be a pirate plundering ships on the high seas. It was a good life for him, but it wasn’t meant to last. A wild storm, coupled by an attack from a serpentine sea beast, and Bartleby washed up near-dead on the shores near the shipyard that had by then become a permanent home to Balthazar and Marius. And with Balthazar’s soft spot for broken things and people, the bear-like Beast was nursed back to health. But no sooner had he recovered and gotten back on his feet, when he was abruptly arrested and thrown in prison for his crimes against the Belanor Empire. He was set for the gallows, soon to be hanged until dead, when Balthazar once again came to his rescue. To this day, he still doesn’t know how the dragon pulled it off, but now he is utterly devoted and loyal, and where Balthazar goes, Bartleby goes.

Blaine, the not-so-angelic angel from Oslana. 18 years of age, and with a bad attitude for the record books. Blaine is far from being the most angelic of angels, and his black wings have nothing to do with it. For one thing, he actually can’t fly. His wings were badly broken when he was a child, and never quite healed the same. But the fisherman who raised him has always done his best. However, now that there’s a dire shortage in Oslana, Blaine has reluctantly come to Belanor to ask for aid. Though, he has yet to actually ask for it. Instead, he set himself as one of Alyria’s suitors, perhaps to gain her assistance first before discussing the problem with her father.

Caine, the blinded serpentine blacksmith of Ha’adani heritage. 20 years of age, Caine has only live in Belanor for the last five years. Before that, he spent much of his life in slavery in the deserts of Ha’adan. He was born to a slave mother, and so has never known freedom until he escaped while in transit to a new master. Surviving on his own has always been difficult, after he was blinded at the age of two, but for a naga at the size he is now, it’s gotten even harder. Still, he made his way to Belanor, and found work for himself as a blacksmith. But when he heard of the call for suitors, well.. he figured why not give it a try.

Cale, the young lord from Oslana. 19 years of age, Cale does his best to be a kind and forgiving person, but he does have a bit of a stubborn streak. So while he is always willing to help out, he may have his own opinions about how things should be done. And he will stick to them. Now, of course his father sent him to court the princess of Belanor, simply for the money and political power that could be gained from the union. Cale, however, has his own reasons for courting Princess Alyria, and his are genuine and honest, and only for the sake of love.

Dantalion, a demonic prince of Belanor with a darkened past. 22 years of age, Dantalion is polite and charismatic, but his life hasn’t really been quite as charmed as a prince’s should be. But of course, demonic politics are those of a separate realm, and so may not always be acknowledged by those living across the veil. Summoned by a warlock and bound to the man, forced to call him ‘master’, Dantalion has been wretchedly abused for years. Only recently was he finally able to escape, and he ran straight to the king, setting himself as a suitor to the princess, citing his own nobility as the prince he truly is, and if all goes well, the warlock who he is still bound to will be dealt with, and he can truly be free again.

Dezimir, a flirtatious Pennari from Roveska. 19 years of age, and very confident in himself. Not many know what a Pennari is, as they are only found in Roveska and some small islands off the coast of Kalein. They are unusual to say the least, and could even be mistaken for elves. Except.. for the tail. And the fact that they tend to be a little broader and even more lanky than elves. The species runs to tallness, and has one very particular trait that is genetic to the breed. Addiction. But not quite in the way anyone might think. Pennari are often more likely to be addicted to an activity, rather than substance. And Dezimir is no exception. His addiction is somewhat more lewd than he probably should ever admit in front of the king, but at least it boosts his confidence. And his flirtatious charisma. But everyone should be careful if he is forced to go too long without tending to that addiction.. Because he can, and will, turn dangerously feral and could cause serious harm, only by pure instinct and a genetic code in his very existence.

Eivan, the elder brother of the pair from Tesak. 21 years of age, Eivan is stubborn and has a very short temper. Also, it probably doesn’t help that he’s actually shorter than his younger brother. And the fact they’re both half-demons certainly doesn’t do him any favors either. Still, he would do everything in his power to protect his brother from any harm that may come to him. And the proof is in the prosthetic arm and leg he has, from an incident in which he defended his brother from being attacked by a monstrous beast. And now, in recent years, he and Alekai have been forced to flee their home, and they settled in Belanor, trying to start their lives over again. And now, hearing the call for suitors, they’ve realized there may be something they can do, for all those like them.

Elliot, the Doomwood mage of Belanor. Everyone knows Doomwood Forest is a place of nightmares, but the people who live there either had no choice, or they settled there to protect the rest of the kingdom. To keep the monsters at bay in the forest and prevent them from spreading across the rest of the kingdom. Elliot is one of those people. Training as a mage, he does what he can to keep the spectres and ghasts and undead, and all manner of monsters from leaving Doomwood. But he’s still training, only 18 years of age, and all he could do for now was to cast a barrier spell over his hometown, hoping that it’ll defend them, and keeping the monsters interested long enough that he can get help, and better training in the capital city. However, his plan was somewhat derailed as he developed a crush on the princess, and so now is among her suitors trying to win her affections.

Ferrin, the half-fae swordsman of Oslana. 19 years of age, Ferrin is not quite all he seems to be. At the surface, he is stubborn, blunt, and confident, even occasionally a bit too confident. But he does know when to back down and when to shut his mouth. He’s not the idiot he occasionally pretends to be, and he is loyal to those who earn it. He appears as a wandering swordsman, roaming the land with no ties to anyone. But that is far from his real story. Truth be told, Ferrin is actually a prince among Fae, but being that he was only half-blood, he was deemed unfit to ever inherit the throne, and was cast out, his memory of his heritage erased. He feels drawn to Princess Alyria, though, like she might have the answers to fill in the blanks he can’t remember.

Ferris, the boisterous Kaleini pirate of the high seas. 20 years of age, and already captain. Ferris started out as a cabin boy, and worked his way up the ranks faster than anyone had ever seen. And when the previous captain was lost to a sea monster attack, the crew was left without a leader. And they chose Ferris. Even men older than him who may have deserved the position in their own right, chose the wild and adventurous young man to lead them to glory. Which worked out for the better, seeing as he lost a leg in that same attack, now living with a prosthetic in its place. He’s been captain for four years now, and now he’s suitor to the princess, alongside two other members of his crew.

Garrick, the second-sighted scaredy-cat from Doomwood Forest. 20 years of age, Garrick has a gentle and kind heart and he’s even perhaps protective of those who need him to be, but he’s also so easily frightened that he may even burst into tears if he’s scared badly enough. Like Elliot and Arten, Garrick comes from Doomwood Forest, born in one of the two known towns in the woods. But he wasn’t born like the others. They can see the physical monsters, and perhaps they know of the rest. But Garrick can see it all. Spectres, ghasts, spirits and all other creatures otherwise unseen. As a young child, he watched his family get carried off by spectres and dragged deep into the woods, never to be heard from again, except for the occasional lingering screams. He has recently come to King Aldric for help, but was distracted as he found himself infatuated with the princess, and just seeing her made him forget his fear, if only for a while.

Geilver, the second son of a Belanorian lord. He was not the one who was intended to be suitor to the princess. His elder brother was the one their father would rather have sent, but as the elder of the two happened to be away on an overseas journey, Geilver was instead the one sent to court Princess Alyria. He is 21 years of age, and is actually rather overconfident, even perhaps to the point of mild narcissism. And he likes to talk, especially about himself. Still, underneath all of that bravado, is an uncertain young man who is deeply loyal to his brother and would like to see him home safely. His father sent him as a suitor for the politics of the affair, but Geilver just isn’t interested in that side of it.

Ifari, the mysterious fae of Ha’adan. His age is a mystery, and really all that is known is his species and his gender. Very few have even seen more than his eyes, his face usually covered by a cloth mask. He is actually the advisor to Prince Rukh, and followed him to this whole affair if only to keep the poor-tempered prince in check. But.. now he too has made his own decision to court the princess. And no one knows what reason he may have for it.

Karval, the foul-mouthed troll from Teris. 16 years of age and the youngest of all the suitors, Karval fled his home country and didn’t stop running until he collapsed in Belanor. His breed of troll is unique only to Teris, and they are hunted for sport, like they are no more than animals. Karval lost his parents to hunters at a young age, and was forced to survive on his own, dodging all manner of dangerous people and animals. He has had a few close calls though, and even he feels it’s a miracle he’s even alive today. Nursed back to health by a kind Belanorian duchess, she has more or less adopted him as her unofficial son, so to speak, and it was she who sent him to court the princess, telling him that if he can gain influence with the royal family, he may be able to use it to change the way things are for his people.

Kin, the devilishly clever kitsune mercenary from Koshima. 21 years of age, Kin is a mercenary who was hired by a lord in Belanor to guard his home and possessions. However, the lord thought little of him, and refused to pay Kin what the job was truly worth, instead only offering the barest of bare minimums. Offended by the man’s rudeness, a state no one should ever want a kitsune to be, Kin simply left the man to fend for himself, instead roaming the kingdom looking for work that would actually pay. When he heard of the call for suitors to the princess, he joined among them. For even if he isn’t chosen, he may still offer his services to protect the royal family.

Lowell, Belanor’s free-spirited bookkeeper. 19 years of age, and.. only technically a bookkeeper. Truthfully, he’s the old man’s apprentice, and he’s easily distracted from his real work. It’s that that led him to become a suitor to the princess, believing in his own charms to help win her over. However, his teacher almost didn’t allow him to do so, reminding him that their work was far more important. But, after some persuasion, they came to an agreement. If Lowell does not succeed in this endeavor, then he will return to his duties with renewed diligence and will never stray again.

Lyric, the patient and watchful nymph from Umai. 18 years of age, Lyric is a lotus nymph who grew up in the lotus ponds and the shade of their trees, in a monks’ temple in Umai. While he isn’t actually a monk, he enjoys their companionship and finds comfort in following their teachings, and joining them in meditation and prayer. They are his family, and he is their beloved lotus child. It was they who sent him on his worldly journey when he was of age, as all monks must do, and that was how he discovered the princess and her father’s call for suitors. But he has to be careful. As a nymph, he can’t venture too far from his source without risking his life, and so to travel, he carries a piece of home with him. A lotus seed, tucked carefully in his pocket. But he may die if that seed gets lost, so he needs to watch his possessions wisely.

Marius, the wild and aggressive avian Beast of Belanor’s shores. 21 years of age, Marius has a foul temper and an even fouler attitude. He’s not fond of most people, and usually minds his own business, acting as lookout around the shipyard and guarding Balthazar from harm. Together, the two of them fixed up the yard and made it livable, even perhaps functional as a proper cargo dock too. Except Marius’ attitude does tend to scare away potential customers. However, he has his reasons for being aggressive, though he won’t speak about it to anyone.

He was once a brawler in the arenas, enslaved in the underbelly of Belanor’s darker districts. He was forced to fight for his life, and was the reigning champion for quite a while before he was finally defeated, and tossed to the streets, left to die from his wounds. However, he was found by an old man called Magnus, who returned him back to proper health, and taught him how to work in the shipyard. But when Magnus was killed in an attack from raiders, the loss shattered Marius. He became foul-tempered and bitter, and he returned to the arenas with a renewed vengeance. But he wasn’t a slave this time. He was free to come and go. And he did leave after a while, only to return to the shipyard on a whim, and that is when he saw Balthazar, and made his own private oath to always protect him no matter what. So now he’s followed him all the way to become a suitor to the princess. Go figure.

Mikhael, Oslana’s feline farm boy. 22 years of age, Mikhael is generally friendly, though he can occasionally come across as rather forceful and aggressive, being rather loud on occasion and bearing a pretty bad temper. Sometimes that temper causes him to storm off in a fit of rage, especially if he has repeatedly failed at a task. He can be kind, however, and also has a great sense of humor. Which, actually helps considering his start in the world. Abandoned as an infant one stormy night, he spent the entire night in the rain, shivering and hungry, only to be found the next morning by a farmer and his wife. They quickly adopted the young feline Beast, and raised him as if he were their own. Now he’s a grown adult, and he does well in keeping pests out of the barn, and works hard to help his father tending the fields. But.. Well, he isn’t entirely sure how he ended up as a suitor to the princess of Belanor, but that isn’t to say he entirely minds.

Montague, the cursed son of a Belanorian lord. 17 years of age, Montague was probably not his father’s first choice to send as suitor to the princess. But, similar to Geilver’s situation, his older brother was not available as an option. So, the lord sent his unfortunately cursed son. Montague was cursed as a young child, after he managed to offend a witch living in the woods. Now, when he gets too excited or angry, or is incapacited and weak, Montague transforms into a river otter, and he has no control over doing so. Only time will tell how this will work out. But at least he’s a friendly sort.

Nathan, the feline member of Kalein’s pirate crew. 20 years of age, clever and quick on his feet, Nathan is never short of something to say, and he certainly puts on a show of confidence. Of course.. That confidence is mostly fake. He has been on the pirate ship he calls home since he was two years old, and has actually never set foot on land. This is uncharted territory now, and he has no idea what he’s doing. He just followed his captain, and may or may not have taken interest in the princess himself as well. But.. hopefully at least Ferris knows what he’s doing.

Niklaus, Roveska’s best kept secret. His age is a mystery at this point, even to him. But he is more than certainly a gentleman, polite and mostly keeping to himself, except to restlessly roam the halls at night. However, to those he does encounter in the night, and in the moments around dawn and dusk, he is charming and dignified. He became Princess Alyria’s choice of his own accord, and perhaps simply out of curiosity, but truth be told.. He hasn’t done this sort of thing in 200 years. Niklaus is a vampire, and one of the oldest still existing in Roveska. After a storm of raids on vampire castles, the slaughter of many by overconfident vampire hunters, Niklaus and a few others are now kept secret under the protection of the Roveski government. But.. Niklaus apparently no longer wants to stay in hiding.

Nora, the dragon bookworm from Teris. 18 years of age, and with quite a story to tell, Nora is one of only a few on the outside now that is privy to one of Teris’ darker secrets. While things may seem rather pleasant on the surface, at least if you aren’t a Terisian troll, underneath all that charm and political majesty, there are prison camps in Teris, where the Crowned Prince or.. someone who may simply look eerily like him, has been throwing all those who he disagrees with or simply dislikes. Until a few months ago, Nora was trapped in one of those camps, until he and three others managed to escape. The rest have gone into hiding, but Nora is looking for help. Setting himself as suitor to Belanor’s princess, this may be the most strategic opportunity to gain aid from Belanor.

Orson, the wild and untamed bear warrior of Belanor’s forests. 22 years of age, and barely more than a feral animal, Orson comes across unfortunately rather aggressive, pushing and generally being a rather physical individual, he is actually rather sweet and loving, but.. Well, he comes by it honestly. He was abandoned in the woods as an infant and expected to be eaten. However, instead of devouring the human child, a mother bear who had recently had her own cubs simply adopted him and raised him like her own. So Orson was raised in the woods by a bear, and as such is the case, he’s unfortunately rather disconnected with civilized society and is easily confused. No one is sure how he got the approval of the king, but having recently ventured into town, Orson has become suitor to the princess, largely due to an interest in learning human courtship, and curiosity about her as well.

Pallum, the winged loudmouth of Kalein’s plundering pirates. 18 years of age, Pallum generally comes across as a very angry bird. He has a quick temper, and he’s very loud and aggressive when he’s upset, but he can be calmed as easily as he’s angered. This little harpy has a lot to compensate for though, considering he’s a runt. As such is the case, many adult harpies in his clan tried to simply kill him, seeing him as useless because he was so small. However, Pallum survived every attempt on his life, until he was simply exiled instead. And that was how he made himself at home in the crow’s nest of a pirate ship, and quickly earned his place as the barrelman. And now that his captain and another member of the crew decided to court the princess of Belanor, that’s what he’s going to do too.

Pteryn, the littlest angel in Belanor. 17 years of age, and largely considered a runt among angels, he’s determined to prove all those who doubt him wrong. He’s stubborn, and a little bit naive, but he has a kind heart and is always willing to help. He is just as trained in combat as any other angel his age, even if they might have tried to stop him from training at all. And now he has pledged his life to King Aldric, in addition to becoming a suitor to the princess. All to prove himself just as strong as any other.

Rai, Oslana’s wandering warrior of the demon sword. He is 19 years of age, and he was human once.. But he has since become a demon of rage and hate. He comes across as cold and unfeeling at first, but he is actually surprisingly agreeable, and even friendly. Perhaps a little forceful with his friendliness, but it is only because most of his emotions have been suppressed by his sword. He gets easily frustrated, or angered. Most of what he can feel is anger in some form or another. Still, he is usually understanding if what aggravated him was an accident. But beware if he is intentionally crossed, for he will be on a very dangerous warpath.

He has been an orphan as long as he can remember, alongside his younger sister, and together the two of them struggled to survive on the streets. At least, until they were called before the Prime Minister. They hoped that perhaps they would be saved, and something would be done for the starving children in the streets. But they should not have hoped at all. His sister died only a few weeks later, and Rai barely made it out with his life, only to find his way to an old and long-forgotten battlefield.. Where he found the Azel Sword. He took hold of the weapon, and his life was forever changed as he was twisted and warped into something no longer human. He is out for blood now, vengeance for all wrongs that had been done to him. And yet.. Maybe Princess Alyria can soften this tormented soul.

Reiss, Kalein’s most stubborn half-fae. If anyone of these suitors could really be considered a wild child, it’s this 17-year-old. He comes across as rude and even inconsiderate, but truth be told, he doesn’t actually know much of human culture, as much as his family may have tried to teach him. He was orphaned at a young age, and was instead raised by the mountain trolls near Roswater. They tried their best to teach how humans live, and even about fae. But there wasn’t much they really knew either, so it was difficult for him to learn. Instead, he lives as the trolls do, hunting and foraging alongside them, even joining in the occasional playful wrestling match.

Recently though, he has set out from home to venture into the world and learn what he can. Or.. rather what he has interest in, which unfortunately isn’t much that would actually help him in the societies outside his home. But, due to a growing interest in Princess Alyria, perhaps there is some hope for him yet.

Rukh, the winged prince of Ha’adan. While his age is unknown, he has lived much of his life praised and practically worshipped. He is a very rare being himself, named for exactly what he is. A rukh. It is due to his existence being seen as a blessing, that he has known nothing but praise, and so he has turned out rather spoiled, and rude. No one has ever told him ‘no’, and so he has a bit of a foul temper whenever someone tries. Only one person has ever been able to get away with it, and that is his advisor, Ifari. And now, at the suggestion of Ifari, Rukh has left his home in order to learn more of the world, and in doing so, he has insistently set himself as one of Princess Alyria’s suitors.

Sadir, the silent warrior of the Ha’adani deserts. There isn’t much known about Sadir, not even his age. All that is known is that he is a half-demon, and he is a rather reclusive and elusive individual, even with all his curiosity. He typically keeps to himself and very rarely speaks, even when spoken to. He often comes across as somewhat gloomy or melancholy, but if asked, he won’t say much more than that those who come near him will only get hurt. Still, for whatever reason that is known only to him, he has come to play suitor to the princess.

Sindar, the charming Ha’adani sailor of the high seas. 23 years of age, and practically swimming in his own charisma, Sindar is the type of individual many young men dream they could be. He is a man of courage, of charm, and of independence. A free spirit living his life upon the seas, a new adventure has been brought to his attention, by a very particular tailor in the bazaars of Ha’adan. Now, he is a suitor to the princess and ready to sail those uncharted waters.

Sun, Umai’s most mischievous monkey. 19 years of age and ready to face the world, Sun is an energetic young monkey Beast with what he considers a great sense of humor, even if others may disagree. However, beneath his carefree attitude and his penchant for mischief is an anxious and stressed young monkey who would do anything to keep those he cares about safe. Though.. that may be on the more difficult side.

Sun was one of eight children and his life started out happy. Until their town was raided and he and his family were sold into slavery. He put up with years of abuse before he was given a chance to escape. He broke loose, but turned back to save his family too. However, his mother shooed him away, telling him to just run and not to worry about them. If one of them was free, that was all that mattered. So he ran. He ran as far as he could, only stopping to rest when he couldn’t bring himself to go any further. He became a brawler in a few underground arenas to train himself so that he may one day save his family. Now, he’s become a suitor to Princess Alyria, with the hope that she and her father may give him the help he needs.

Taeval, the last of Kalein’s oldest breed of dragons. 20 years of age, and the last of his kind, no one is quite sure where Taeval came from. He is a gentle soul, however, calm and respectful. He is always there to support those who need him, traveling only to learn what he needs to and to help where he is needed, before disappearing again to return somewhere else. However, now something has drawn him to become a suitor to Belanor’s princess, and no one is exactly sure what that might be.

Takhal, the prideful and spoiled Oracle from Ha’adan. 18 years of age, and somewhat of a spoiled brat, Takhal has been praised from his early years and onward, which has led him to be rather arrogant and even childish. He boasts about his accomplishments, and how powerful of an Oracle he is. But.. little does he know, he was kidnapped in infancy as part of a far greater plot. And underneath his bravado as well, is a scared and lonely child. But he saw Princess Alyria in a vision, and now has come to understand why.

Titian, a fierce Norland warrior with a dangerous curse. 21 years of age, and he is already as foul-tempered and bitter as an old man with too many bad memories. But there is a reason for the aggressive way he behaves. Titian is under a curse, and so is possessed by a spirit of anger, turning him into a Berseker. The only emotion he is allowed to feel much of is anger, and so he comes across fairly aggressive and rude.

But the truth is that he’s looking for someone. The man who raised him in place of the parents who bore him. After an attack on their hometown, by soldiers who claimed to be from Belanor, the only father Titian has ever known has disappeared. So now he has come to Belanor, both to seek out his father, and to get vengeance for the attack on his home.

Toris, the sweetheart of Oslana with a dark secret. 21 years of age, and generally rather shy and gentle, Toris seems utterly harmless, and for the most part he is. Except for one tiny detail. He has in fact killed a man. But of course, as with all good murder mysteries, there is more to the story. Toris was a slave for many years, shuffled from one lord to another and to another, and he had even just simply grown used to it. Or at least.. he thought he had. As his last master was dealing out punishment yet again, something inside Toris snapped, and he murdered the man in a fit of rage. Now he has fled to Belanor, and perhaps the princess can find a way to help him.

Vince, Princess Alyria’s oldest friend. 19 years of age, and another one who comes across somewhat aggressive, the truth is that Vince is lonely, and he has a lot of trouble expressing it. But it’s no wonder he is the way he is. His birth was an accident, and his aristocrat mother immediately decided she wanted nothing to do with the half-troll monstrosity she had given birth to. She ordered her servants to get rid of the infant, and they would have.. if they hadn’t fallen in love with him themselves. Still, they knew they couldn’t keep him, and so took him into the forest, giving him to a troll woman who was out foraging for berries.

She gladly took him and raised him as her own in the troll village that was her home. But, despite all the love she offered him, Vince knew he didn’t fit in there. He remained lonely and misplaced, even venturing to the edge of the forest to look upon the estate that belonged to the woman who had given birth to him. Several times when doing so, however, the woman caught sight of him and sent her hounds to chase him off, not even knowing that he was her son.

At some point while he was young, Vince happened to encounter Princess Alyria and her father, and the two have been friends ever since, ultimately growing up with each other. And now that he’s heard King Aldric calling for suitors for Alyria, Vince is determined to win the heart of the only one who ever made him feel like he truly belonged.

Warren, the changeling child that replaced a Belanorian lord’s son. 19 years of age, and a bit pushy and snappish, Warren is a tough nut to crack on occasion. He comes across as rude and self-centered, and is generally fairly difficult to get along with most of the time. But the truth is that he is deeply insecure and very sensitive to insults. While he was raised as the son of a Belanorian lord, the truth is that the real son of the lord was stolen as an infant, and replaced with the changeling child that is Warren.

However, Warren genuinely believes he is the lord’s son. He knows nothing about changelings, and the lord as well is unaware of what Warren is. As such is the case, when Warren’s form shifts even a little, it makes him panic and he believes it’s some strange disease that flares up from time to time. So, he mostly tries to ignore it, and now, of course, he has been sent to court the princess for the sake of politics.

Yukito, the lone warrior from Koshima. He is 21 years of age, and he generally comes across fairly moody and lonerish, even perhaps a little cold and unfriendly. But underneath it, he does actually genuinely care about others and would give his life to protect everyone around him. He is diligent and hard-working, and very loyal despite his grumpy attitude. Whatever drew him to court the princess of Belanor, though, is something only he knows.

Yuri, the Belanorian noble that grew up on the streets. 18 years of age, and fairly confident in himself and even a bit flirtatious, but.. could that be just a front he puts up? Nah, couldn’t be. Or.. could it? Yes, it is. The youngest in a family of ten kids, Yuri was mostly ignored as a child, and so developed a bit of a habit of showing off just for the attention. However, when he was about ten years old, his home was raided and his family scattered. He has no idea where any of them are now, and since then, he grew up mostly on the streets, learning to cheat, gamble, and steal to survive.

He’s been arrested several times for his thefts, somehow managing to talk his way out of most of his possible punishments. Still, he’s stolen a few too many things by now, and was set for execution. Except.. he was recently pardoned by the king, who saw that the young man still had some good in him, and had hope he could be rehabilitated. Now, Yuri has set himself as a suitor to the princess, hoping maybe she’s that rehabilitation the king wants from him.

Zoroaster, the mercenary from Teris. 20 years of age and highly trained with a sword, Zoroaster spent most of his life at sea. He hardly knew his own parents, and was instead raised by a crew of naval warriors from Norland. However, his ship was recently sunk by pirates, killing most of the men on board, and so he has lived ashore in Oslana for the past year. Training himself further in swordsmanship, he is now nearly unrivaled with a blade, and he has come to Belanor now, as suitor to the princess, and to offer his services in her protection.

Zuri, the naive Beast of Ha’adan. 21 years of age, and a member of a rare clan of Beasts known as Bengalit, Zuri is.. Well, he isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, to put it lightly. He’s easily trusting of most people, despite what his best friend Sindar may tell him. He can of course defend himself if things turn out wrong, but he likes to look for the good in everyone, really. He trusts Sindar with his life as well, and will follow him to the ends of the earth, which.. is of course how he became a suitor to Princess Alyria as well.

[timetravelingheart]

My Side of the Fence Part Seven: A.M. Imagine

Warning: From here on out, there may be references to sex and/or smut scenes. I probably won’t go too into detail, but who knows. Depends on where the writing takes me. Consider yourself warned! :) As always, feedback is appreciated. 

“I’ve never seen him this way before,” Mitch mock-whispered to Morgan as they watched Auston walk from his bathroom to his bedroom closet over and over, trying on different shirts, hats, and shoes, leaving a pile of ‘rejects’ strewn across the floor and bed. 

“Did he get hit in the head at all during practice or a game?” Morgan mock-whispered back. 

“You two are not helping,” Auston grunted as he pulled on his go-to white tee for the third time. Morgan and Mitch stopped by after their afternoon practice to ‘help’ Auston get ready for his non-date, but he was starting to regret letting them tag along. He was used to taking their chirps, and usually giving them back just as well, but he had been on edge all day. If anything, they only made him more nervous. 

“Dude, what’s the deal?” Morgan moved in to the room from his place in the doorway, cleared a space on the queen-size bed, and plopped down. Mitch quickly followed suit. As much fun as they had been having teasing Auston about his crush ever since Auston and Savannah met, he knew his best friend was really worked up about their non-date tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“You used to go out on dates with random girls all the time and you were always a cocky little shit about it-” Morgan’s quick reflexes helped him catch the balled up sweater Auston whipped at his head before it could hit him. “We all know it’s true so don’t even deny it. Seriously man, what’s up? Why is this non-date such a big deal?”

Sighing, Auston sat down on the large chair in the corner of the room and put his head in his hands, carefully avoiding the hair he spent a good twenty minutes styling into place. Mitch and Morgan waited patiently for their friend to speak, not wanting to set him off. 

“She’s not just some random girl. She’s...I don’t even know how to explain it. It sounds so insane every time I try to even put it into words because we’ve only known each other for over a month now and I still feel like I don’t really know much about her. But I can’t stop thinking about her. And she’s not just some girl I want to hook up with,” he paused, waiting for his friends to make fun of him. When nothing came, he continued. 

“I want to know everything about her. I want to hear all about her training sessions, her competitions, what she does in between competitions. I want to stay up late and just talk about anything and everything with her. This girl is unbelievably too good for me that I am so nervous that I’ll screw this up and scare her off. She already knows about my past and that’s obviously a hit against me, especially for a girl who already seems to have trust issues. She’s perfectly fine just being on her own and focusing on herself without needing anyone else, so it’s not like she even remotely needs me or someone like me in her life so I feel like I have to work even harder to prove to her that it could be worth it. That I could be worth it. She’s not just a girl. She’s the girl.”

The room fell silent for what felt like an eternity to Auston. No one said anything, but he watched tentatively as Mitch and Morgan sat stunned, seemingly mulling over his words. Finally, Mitch spoke up. 

“Holy shit. You’re falling for her.”

Auston nodded slowly. 

“You are so fucked.”

_

At 5:25pm, Auston knocked on Savannah’s apartment door. He had finally decided on skinny black jeans, a burgundy pocket tee, and a black bomber jacket. He felt a little better after opening up to Mitch and Morgan, and they were surprisingly supportive without joking, but now that he was at her door, the nerves came flooding back. He could only hope that he didn’t throw up on her when she opened the door. He knocked again, then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels as he waited. When she opened the door, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

She was wearing dark wash skinny jeans, a soft off-the-shoulder hunter green sweater that brought out her eyes perfectly, brown booties, with her hair pulled up in a neat ponytail to show off her toned shoulders - she looked stunning. 

“You look incredible,” Auston spoke before he even realized the words tumbling out of his mouth. 

Savannah laughed lightly. He had clearly not meant to say anything, but it was so endearing the way he seemed to lose his sense of control around her. She had never had a guy look at her the way he looked at her. Like he was looking into her and trying to see all of the parts of herself that she held for only herself and few selected others. Savannah had never felt so truly seen before. 

This non-date was absolutely a terrible idea. She was so screwed and they hadn’t even stepped out of her building yet. 

“Thank you,” Savannah finally spoke, reaching over to grab her purse on the table next to her door. She stepped out in the hallway and locked her door, hoping that the few moments she was turned away from him would help her reset and find some ounce of composure. Turning back to him, she gave him a quick once-over, trying hard not to stare. “You look okay,” she bumped his hip playfully as they made their way to the elevator, barely causing him to alter his course of direction. 

“Watch it there, little one,” Auston chided as he bumped her back with a little more force. Savannah laughed as she lost her balance, trying to push the elevator button. They stepped into the elevator quietly, with neither one speaking until they got into Auston’s jeep. 

“How was your day today?” he asked as he pulled out of the complex. 

“It was good! I had practice this morning and started going over some free dance choreography to really tighten up the program. It’s definitely not finished, but I felt really great about it today. How about you?”

“We had practice this morning as well, but it definitely doesn’t sound as exciting as yours. We just did some of the usual drills and trying to work out some of the line combinations before the season opener.” Auston pulled up to his apartment complex. “Do you mind if we just park here and walk over? It’s only about a ten minute walk. The last time we went, we couldn’t get parking anywhere near the place.”

“Not at all! It’s really nice out. I’d like to enjoy this weather while it lasts.” Once Auston parked in his parking garage, they got out quickly and started walking up the street. 

“It’s crazy how energized this whole city seems for the season. Your faces are everywhere! I even caught a few of your interviews with Tavares.”

Auston groaned. He was always so awkward in those interviews and John was even worse. Savannah laughed knowingly. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen Connor’s video of you dancing, I know you have more personality than you let on,” she watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye. 

Auston winced and groaned even louder this time, which made Savannah just laugh harder. 

_

“I cannot believe we made it out in time! I thought for sure we screwed up by finding the last clue first.”

“Sav, that one was all you. I didn’t realize you were so good with word games and riddles! How did you even figure out that first clue?” Auston was really impressed with Savannah’s smarts in the room. She was analytical and thoughtful, and he was content to just watch her go through her thought process with each clue. He was proud that he was able to get some of the clues on his own, but mostly he was happy just to be with her. He couldn’t help but smile over at her as they made their way towards the exit. 

“Sometimes the obvious answer is the right answer. We were a good team though.” 

It turned out that they were the perfect pair to do an escape room together. They each had different strengths and could focus on different parts of the clues to reach the end just before time ran out. Savannah was impressed that Auston not only recognized and appreciated her strengths, but actually took a step back to listen to her when she was thinking a clue through out loud. He didn’t try to interrupt her or act like his way was the only way. 

“I grew up obsessed with any kind of puzzle, including word puzzles. I still do a crossword puzzle every day.”

“Every day? And you actually finish them?”

“I do! I have to, otherwise it drives me insane all day.”

“What got you into crosswords?”

Auston watched as a look he didn’t recognize crossed Savannah’s soft features before her performance face appeared, and he immediately felt like he had overstepped. He respected her performance face when she was in her element on the ice, but grew to hate it in these moments when it felt like she was shutting down and hiding a part of her away. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried. You don’t have to answer that.”

The performance face disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Savannah didn’t even realize when she did it most of the time; it was just a natural reaction now when someone she didn’t know very well tried to get a little too close for her liking. But there was something about Auston that made her want to share more of herself with him. It was scary to feel that way about someone. Her previous boyfriends could barely get passed one of her layers and she had always been fine with that. Until now, it seemed. She reached over and squeezed his arm briefly as they walked towards the exit. He really was so sweet. 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t talk about it often, so sometimes it catches me off guard when it comes up. My grandmother had Alzheimer’s. At first it was really mild, but eventually it got to the point where she didn’t even remember or recognize my mom. It was really hard to visit her. Brain games are supposed to help prevent it.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.”

"Thank you. Actually, if there was something positive that came from it, it was being able to witness true love firsthand. My grandparents were married for over 60 years, and even though near the end she didn’t always recognize my grandpa, he still visited her every day. When people would ask him why he visited every day, even though it was so emotionally draining for him on the days when she didn’t remember him, his answer was always the same: ‘She’s the love of my life. And she may not remember me, but I certainly remember her. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’”

“Wow. That’s incredible.”

Savannah smiled softly, clearly swept up in the memory of her grandparents. “They were incredible.” Catching her eye, Auston gave her a quick wink and a soft smile. He was about to say something else, but noticed the sound of rain pounding on the roof of the building. It was pouring. They looked at each other helplessly. Finally, Savannah spoke. 

“What do we do now? Hide in a nearby cafe until it subsides?”

Auston looked out the doors and up at the sky. He instinctively moved closer to her when a clap of thunder rang out into the night. It didn’t look like it was going to subside any time soon. He had an idea that he hoped wouldn’t be overstepping.

“We could make a run for it? Go to my place, get dry, and order food?” Auston held out his hand for her to grab.

Savannah eyed his hand briefly. Thinking it over, she placed her hand in his and nodded at him. “Let’s do it!”

_

“I should have looked at the weather report. I’m so sorry!”

They stepped into his apartment, both dripping from head to toe. 

“It’s okay Auston, I’m not going to melt. I’m just a little wet.”

“Here, let me get you a towel and then you can change into some dry clothes,” Auston moved quickly into his apartment, pulling out two warm fluffy towels and walking one back to Savannah. He wrapped it around her shoulders and rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up. Even though it was an innocent action meant simply to give her shivering form some heat, the air in the room quickly became charged. Tentatively, Savannah raised her chin to meet his steely gaze. He stared back, wanting so badly to lean down just a little to touch his lips to hers, but he was brought out of his reverie when he watched those lips and her teeth chatter. “Wow, you’re really shivering. Do you want to have a hot shower first? I can put your clothes in the dryer for you.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” The moment now broken, Savannah couldn’t help but curse her chattering mouth for betraying her. She had wanted to close the distance between them and finally feel what it was like to kiss him. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, she couldn’t deny how much stronger and more frequently these urges were taking over all of her senses. 

She followed closely behind as he lead her into his apartment towards the bathroom. She had never been in his apartment before. It was nice and cozy, and while it clearly had been decorated by someone other than Auston, there were little touches here and there that made it feel like him. 

“My mom and sisters keep a bunch of shower stuff here in the cabinet, so feel free to use any of that. There should also be a hair dryer in there for you to use.”

Savannah couldn’t help but wonder how many other girls he gave the same speech to. How many other girls had been in this apartment, using his shower, wearing his clothes? Should it even bother her what that number might be? Steph had briefly made references to Auston’s past and while Savannah wasn’t one to judge, she couldn’t help but wonder where on the line she fell. Was she just another girl? And if she was, why should she care? It’s not like she could date him anyway. She had a promise to keep. She had gold medals to win. Eyes on the prize - a gold medal was more permanent than a guy who may or may not just be into her for one night. 

While Savannah took a shower, Auston quickly changed into dry sweats and ordered pizza, trying to distract himself from thinking about Savannah in his shower. He had actually never brought a girl back to his apartment before unless he was consistently seeing her, which only happened a couple of times, or if they were really just a friend. Usually he went to the girl’s place because it was easier to make a quick exit. But with Savannah, he didn’t need or want an exit. He wanted to keep her here for as long as she wanted to stay - which he hoped was a long time. He couldn’t help but notice how different he felt in her presence. He couldn’t help but want to be the best version of himself with her, whoever that guy might be. 

He was busy reading a few texts when he heard soft footsteps padding his way, breaking him out of his thoughts. When he turned, he was face to face with Savannah in nothing but a towel, her hair now dry. He hadn’t even heard her blowdrying her hair.

“Uhm, Auston?” Savannah waved one hand in front of his face. She used the other to hold up her towel, still shivering slightly. “Auston?”

Auston blinked quickly, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

“Do you have something I can wear?”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he moved past Savannah, keeping his eyes straight ahead, trying not to look anywhere near her. “Here, I don’t think anything is really going to fit you, but these sweats have a drawstring at least. Do you want a hoodie or a tee?”

“Do you have a long-sleeved tee I could wear?”

“Here. I was just going to make some tea. The food should be here soon.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Savannah retreated quietly back to his bedroom to finish getting dressed. When she returned, Auston was paying the person at the door for the pizza. She noticed he had turned on Netflix and pulled a couple of plush blankets to the couch. 

“Here, sit. I thought you might want a blanket. I’ll bring you your tea once it’s ready. We could watch something while we eat?”

“Sure. Do you like Friends?”

“I love Friends! Good choice.” 

While Auston moved to the kitchen to pour their tea, Savannah moved slowly around his living room, taking in the decorations and pictures. She couldn’t help but notice none of his pictures were hockey related. She spotted his parents, two girls she assumed to be his sisters, what were likely his grandparents, and some of his friends. If any of them were hockey friends, the pictures had nothing to do with hockey, but just them hanging out. Now that she thought about it, she realized that the only hockey-related item in his apartment (the rooms that she had seen at least) was a gym bag near the front door and a Maple Leafs hoodie tossed on a chair. She made a mental note to ask about that later. 

Auston walked over to her with two steaming cups of tea and handed one to her. “Just milk, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“You’ve made tea so many times at Mitchy’s that it’d be impossible not to know how you take it. I even poured the milk in first, even though I think you’re wrong that it makes it taste better.”

“Hey! It’s how my Scottish grandpa used to make his and he was never wrong about anything!”

Auston raised his hands in mock surrender. “I promise to never question the decisions of your Scottish grandpa ever again.” 

“Good!” Savannah nodded sharply, in mock seriousness. 

Auston couldn’t help but laugh at how cute she was when she wanted to make a point. He motioned to the couch and they both settled onto opposite ends. He put a couple of slices of pizza on two plates for them and watched as she snuggled up under the blankets, seeking warmth. She was swimming in his clothes, but she looked so content and warm that he felt a little guilty at how happy the rain made him. She was here, in his home, looking perfectly in place. Like she belonged here. 

After finishing off the pizza, they were onto their third episode of Friends and had already had two spirited debates about what the best episodes of the series were (Savannah a staunch “The One With the Prom Video” supporter - “He’s her LOBSTER, Auston!” - and Auston an equally avid supporter of “The One Where No One’s Ready” - “Could I BE wearing anymore clothes?”) when Savannah turned to Auston. She realized that because she had been so focused on protecting her heart and keeping her distance these past few weeks, she really didn’t know much about Auston other than what she had learned that first night on the beach. 

“Let’s play a game.”

Auston turned away from the TV to look at her confused. “A game?”

“Yes, you do know what that word means, don’t you?” she smiled teasingly, laughing as he threw a pillow at her head. 

“Yeah smartass, I know what that word means. I just meant what game?”

“21 questions? I feel like I don’t know that much about you.”

“Okay, but what are your rules? Everyone plays differently.”

Savannah thought about it. She wanted to know about him, and knew it was only fair that he could ask her questions too. But how personal did they want to get?

“Okay, rule #1: You can’t ask a question that you wouldn’t be willing to answer yourself.” 

Auston nodded slowly. That seemed fair. 

“Number 2?”

“Rule #2: You can say pass if you’re not comfortable answering a question.”

“Can I make an amendment? You can say pass, or you can say that it’s a question that can be asked again at a later date.”

“Why?”

“Because even if we’re not comfortable answering it now, maybe it’s something we can work towards the better we get to know each other?”

Savannah mulled it over. What were the chances of his memory being so good that he’d bring it up again?

“Deal. And rule #3: You can only tell the truth.”

Auston turned away from the TV to fully face Savannah. The light from the TV and the occasional lightning brightening up the room every once in a while. 

“It’s your game, so you can ask a question first.”

Savannah took a moment to think about a question. There was one that had been weighing on her mind since she first heard about it, and now seemed like the perfect time to clear the air. 

“Okay, here it goes. I’ve heard little references here and there about your ‘past’ with women. Care to tell your side of the story?”

Auston coughed, sputtering the water he had just taken a sip of all over himself. 

This was going to be an interesting night. 

[toast-tit]

Piano Man

Chapter Four

mob!Tom x reader

Warnings: language, violence

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know:)

Summary: The Ecclesiastes Pub catered to a plethora of people. Prostitutes, college students, successful businessmen and London’s most wanted. Bartenders and waitresses learned to tune out conversations from their customers quickly if they wanted to keep their head. However, people will still come looking for trouble, even if that trouble revolves around Tom Holland, the most feared mob boss around.

~ ~ ~

Though I probably should have, I didn’t tell anybody about the call or text. I knew that it was stupid of me to do so, but I’m living in the house of the most dangerous man in the country, so I figured that a threat was practically nothing. It might not even be a threat; for all I know, it’s a stupid prank.

The next morning I woke up around 8:00, hoping that was early enough for Tom. After getting dressed, I walked down the stairs and saw only Tom and Harrison conversing at the kitchen counter. They both were dressed impeccably (why should I be surprised) and stopped talking once they noticed I was present.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Harrison said, taking a sip from his glass. “I’m looking at it and there’s not much to see,” I equivocated. Harrison pursed his lips before turning back to Tom to resume their conversation. I sat down in the chair next to Harrison, marveling at the kitchen as well. Everything about this house screamed I shouldn’t be here and they were right. However, the house was going to have to suck my dick because apparently I’m not going anywhere.

“So where’s all your henchmen and shit? Isn’t this house supposed to have eyes everywhere?” I took an apple from a nearby fruit basket and not into it. Tom filled a glass of water and handed it to me and answered, “I have eyes all over London and the U.K., Y/N. The lot of them don’t come here until nine; only Harrison and I live here.” He handed the glass to me and I thanked him quietly, taking a sip, “So the mafia’s a 9-5 business then?” “Not at all,” Tom shook his head, almost cracking a smile at my joke.

For a while, we didn’t say anything to one another. I was finishing my glass and Tom began to cook breakfast. It smelled delicious and I was tempted to ask for some, but I figured best not to. The sun was rising gradually and wisps of orange and yellows rays managed to squeeze in through the closed curtains and dance across the house as if they were lovers.

Tom turned around with two plates of eggs and sausage, giving one to Harrison. He then looked at me and asked, “Did you want something?” “No, but you probably should’ve asked before you started cooking,” I said. He took a forkful of eggs and lifted them to his mouth, “One day you’re going to wish you didn’t have that sharp tongue.”

While the two were eating, I headed back to my room, deciding that I’ll start my job when everyone else does. I unplugged my phone from the charger and opened it, mulling over the photo like I had ever since I received it. I could see the picture detail by little detail even when I closed my eyes, but it pained me that I didn’t know who she was or who sent this to me. Is this a riddle I’m supposed to solve? Was I supposed to figure out who she is or why this photo has so much meaning and suddenly stop some psychotic maniac? Was this woman after me or was she also being chased? I literally know nothing about her, who she is, her favorite color, if she went to college or not.

Someone knocked on the door and immediately I took myself out of my messages and turned off my phone. “Come in,” I said and Harrison entered the room. “While you’re up, might as well start you on some training,” he looked a little too smug for my taste and I wanted to punch out his perfect teeth. Why the fuck were the two men in charge of the most feared mafia fucking gods? Last I remembered, mob bosses were fat guys who practically beat the living shit out of Viagra.

I nodded my head and stood up, brushing myself off and trying to shake the photo out of my head. “Do you want me to change into something different?” I asked. “Preferably, unless you really would like to sweat your ass if in those jeans,” he gestured to my pants.

“Good...good, you have decent form, Y/N. I’m impressed,” Harrison nodded along as I kept punching the bag with the new technique he taught me. I didn’t let the compliment go to my head, so I ignored it, continuing to throw more punches to the poor bag. Too much was on my mind and honestly, the training was a great stress reliever. Sweat was getting near my eye, so I paused for a bit and wiped it off, but that was when I looked up at the news. Where the photo of the girl was displayed on screen.

“Turn it up,” I demanded Harrison and he did so. We both listened to the reporter and I let the words hit my nerves. “Today, Ellen Rhie, a college student abroad from South Korea, was brutally murdered and found in an alley near the Ecclesiastes Pub, which had just reopened after a stand off from what seems to be a gang killing. She was strangled with what seems to be a piano string approximately 12 hours ago and was found by a homeless man,” the reporter continued, but her words melted away.

The woman was murdered. The woman who seemed so alive in the photo sent to me hours ago, 12 to be exact. Over and over in my head, I replayed the phone call and heard the voice tell me, “The first of many.” My mind was like a broken record player stuck on the vinyl of darkness, constantly relaying threats. So this was it, the text was a threat and I’m going to be a victim.

Harrison noticed my state and he put his hand on my shoulder gently, causing me to jump. “It’s just me,” he said softly, “Are you alright?” I stared at him, practically boring into his face. Everything around me seemed slower, and my eyes glazed around the room to make sure nothing was melting, although it felt like everything should be melting.

My voice was barely above a whisper, shaking uncontrollably, “I should have told you.” “Tell me what?” He asked. “I could’ve saved her,” my voice was louder now, “I could’ve prevented it.” “Prevent what, that murder? You had nothing to do with it, Y/N!” Harrison looked puzzled and I didn’t blame him.

I rushed to a nearby chair where I had left my phone and I opened it, revealing the photo. “I got a call last night from a random number. They told me that this was ‘the first of many’. I didn’t think much of it until now,” some of that was blatant lie but I didn’t care. He had to know now.

Harrison took the phone out my hand and examined it before averting his gaze to the TV to look at the same exact photo. He gave my phone back to me and grabbed my arm lightly, albeit a little pressure on it. “We need to find Tom,” he said with gritted teeth and the two of us rushed to his office where he was speaking with someone.

“I’m in a meeting, Harrison,” Tom stopped talking to the person seated in front of him, but he didn’t look at Harrison. The gun was perched on his desk and the person was visibly distraught. Harrison took a look at the person before changing back to Tom, “It’s important.” “Everything is important, Harrison,” Tom met Harrison’s eyes, “This meeting is important. That’s why I’m having it.”

Tom began speaking to the person again before Harrison sighed, “It’s Rigsby, sir.” Tom froze, something that shook me to the core. He turned to the person he was speaking with, and pointed the gun in their face, “You have five seconds to leave this house. One,” he counted and the person scurried out. Tom looked at me and commanded, “Close the door.”

After Harrison told him what went down, Tom slammed his fists on the table and stood up, pointing at me. I jumped and my stomach dropped lower than it already was. “You know you were going to be a fucking target, Y/N! Why the fuck would you hide this? What if you were sent your own photo? What were you going to do?” He shouted. Harrison looked stoic, but I knew that something about this was bothering him deeply.

“What’s going on? Why was I sent the photo, Tom? Do you know who the fuck did this?” my voice was rising as well, not taking kindly to being shouted at. “Of course I do, Y/N! I’m not fucking thick headed like you. I know when something’s dangerous,” he answered, but not really answering my question.

“You don’t think I know what’s dangerous?” I stood up from my seat as well, “I live in fucking Southwest London you waste of breath! I’ve been fucking catcalled, assaulted, robbed, and destroyed beyond all reason because of this shitshow we call a city! I’m living with a fucking cold blooded killer who murdered his fucking father and probably the rest of his family too!”

Harrison grabbed my forearm, “Sit down!” He hissed. Tom was still, and his eyes bore daggers into my skin. “Harrison, leave,” he said, his voice almost like a growl. “Tom-“ “Get the fuck out of here!” He turned to Harrison. Calmly, Harrison stood up, walked to the door, opened it and left, all without saying a word, and leaving me with Tom Holland.

“So you really believe the bullshit they spoon fed you out in the world, didn’t you, Y/N?” He was walking out from behind his desk and I could see his hands were balled up and bleeding, from his nails digging into his skin. I was terrified, I knew I fucked up and now I couldn’t redo it. I didn’t know who I should’ve been more scared of, whoever wanted me dead or Tom.

I said nothing and he laughed, walking closer to me. “You really want to act so innocent and spit on me like I am the Devil, don’t you sweetheart?” His teeth were gritted and he cocked his head. I was backpedaling, but soon I had run out of place to backpedal and my back hit the door.

He finally pinned me to the door so that I couldn’t leave, although I couldn’t really anyway. “I know who you fucking are, Y/N. You have your own fucking secrets, some worse than mine,” he spat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to act harder than I really was. He pressed a finger to my lips and shushed me, “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He shrugged and tilted his head, “I’ll admit it, I killed my father. He was getting soft and a bit too old for this job. The mob needed grit and he didn’t have it.”

“And you did?” I asked but he pressed his finger against my lips harder. “No time for talking, miss,” he chastised, “I have my demons and you have yours. But don’t ever think for a fucking second that you can use my crimes against me. Don’t ever think for a fucking second that you can best me. After all, I am a cold blooded killer, according to you.”

He took his finger off my lips and replaced it with his thumb brushing my lower one. “Look at me, Y/N,” he said softer than before but all the more dangerous. I did what I was told begrudgingly and I noticed an emotion I wasn’t particularly excited to see. His eyes seemed clouded with a concoction of emotions: anger, madness, and what seemed like lust. “One day,” he said to himself as he took his thumb from me.

He finally backed away, giving me space, but I still didn’t move; I was petrified. Fumbling around for the lock, I unlocked the door and opened it. Before I exited the office, Tom called out my name and I stopped in my tracks.

“You’re here for a reason, you need to tell me these things, especially now more than ever,” he was holding information back, but I didn’t want to get into it. I wanted to get away from him right now and let my nerves sort themselves out. I nodded silently and left, closing the door behind me and practically rushing down the stairs, tripping over my feet.

CHAPTER FIVE

TAG LIST:

@financialinstability @magical-fairy-princess-stuff

[restlessmaknae]

Heartbreak Hotel; Sungjin

Take an aspiring song writer, a rebellious high schooler, a sassy English teacher, a passionate painter and an adventurous tour guide. What’s the same in all of them? They’ve all just had their heart broken.

Heartbreak Hotel is a DAY6 angst one-shot collection with 5 members & 5 songs & 5 stories.

Sungjin | Dowoon | Young K | Wonpil | Jae

I. Sungjin + Congratulations

Full-blown angst and drama in 1669 words with Sungjin as a song writer and reader as his (ex-)girlfriend. No triggers but be prepared to shed some tears. (It may leave you confused. If it does, don’t hesitate to ask me. *-*)

“How could you do this?” you puffed furiously, your tone abusive and hurt.

“I promised that I would write a song about you,” I answered flatly, shrugging my shoulders. The song came out, it was a success and I didn’t even want to hide the fact that it was about you.

You knew it, you had to know it. You read between the lines. You noticed the little hints here and there, so it seems my words stuck with you after all. I could have denied it, I could have lied to you but there was no use of putting on a show just for you. I wasn’t ashamed of putting my heart into this song, you should have been the one who was ashamed. Yet, you were hurt instead.

You deserved to hear the song over and over again and be reminded of all the pain you’ve caused me. That’s all I can say.

 “It’s not what you think,” you raised your arms in defeat after saying goodbye to your boyfriend. I wasn’t blind, he was obviously your new lover, you couldn’t tell me otherwise. No matter how hard you tried, I wasn’t your little puppy that you could play with. Not anymore.

“I get it, you found someone. Be happy but don’t lie to me!” I winced at you, my heart aching in jealousy and gloom. My hands were shaking but you didn’t seem to notice. My voice was shaking but you didn’t seem to care. I hated to tell you lies but it was the first time I had to. There was no other way to overcome what I’d just witnessed.

Your last words haunted me in my dreams, they were on my mind all day long, they accompanied me wherever I went. Whenever your favourite song was playing on the radio, whenever another girl was wearing your favourite stripped T-shirt, whenever I saw the book you were currently reading in the bookshop or whenever I walked by the cosy café where we had our first date, you immediately nestled into my mind. You were everywhere, even in my dreams, and it was like playing with fire. The more I couldn’t get rid of you, the more pain I felt.

“I met him after we had already broken up,” you insisted on telling me yet another fib but I wasn’t so naïve this time. I couldn’t believe your words. I was sick of the way you were playing with my heart, inviting it for that so-called last dance before death. I felt like falling into pieces over and over again when I was with you, you didn’t have to make it even harder.

“We didn’t even break up,” I reminded you with a hurtful edge to my tone and turned around to head to the entertainment building. You couldn’t follow me into the hall because you didn’t have access, so I was relieved. On the other hand, the lack of protestation still hurt like hell.

You knew it was the first time we didn’t lie to each other that day.

 “Let’s take a break,” you announced wearily as you rose up from your seat, leaving your plate untouched on the table. I had previously made you dinner because I knew you had a rough day at work with all those meetings and your always packed schedule and although I was just as busy as you, I wanted to surprise you.

Yet, all I got in response was a disgusted frown and a threat that if I ever burn any of your frying pans again, you wouldn’t let me into the kitchen. Our kitchen. I didn’t know why you acted so uncharacteristically grumpy all of a sudden but my heart palpitated against my chest the whole time because I had a feeling that you would announce something.

“Why? What did I do wrong? Did something happen at work?” I immediately stood up to follow you into our room but the expression on your face was just as fathomless as you were. You were a riddle, an unsolved mystery, the question of the century. Little did I know that I would know the answer the question soon yet it would be better if I didn’t find out the truth.

“No,” you shook your head as you started packing your stuff. I gulped as you caught sight of your suitcase, I wasn’t ready to let you go just like that. It was all too sudden but my head was foggy, my brain was frozen. It all felt like a dream, I couldn’t quite grasp the seriousness of the situation. Not sure that it would change anything if I did.

“I just think we need some time to think about what we want from this relationship and from each other,” you reasoned blatantly, letting out an aghast sigh. I gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when it hid your face from me. I assumed that you were crying and that’s why you didn’t care about my touch but your eyes were dry as a desert. Lifeless like glass and steady like a stone.

“Please, tell me if I did anything wrong! You wouldn’t move out if it wasn’t for something serious,” I insisted doggedly and tried to stop you from putting another shirt into your suitcase. You yanked your hand away from me and I swear I could see thunderbolts in your eyes. You were like a stormy night full of surprises.

“Why can’t you believe that it’s because we need a break?” you flung your arms in the air, your voice shaking a bit. I wanted to say that it was a big fat lie and that’s why I didn’t believe you but I didn’t have the heart to tell you.

I believed that you were better than this. You would tell me if something really happened and you would always tell me the truth. I was so naïve while you put on a wonderful show. You got me from the very start and until I saw you with your new boyfriend, holding each other’s hands, kissing on the subway, not caring about anyone or anything, I tried to hold onto your words.

I shouldn’t have believed you from the start.

 “Let’s move together,” you suggested a bit too enthusiastically, probably due to the amount of soju you had consumed during the last few hours.

We were eating out in your favourite restaurant because it was our first anniversary and I treated you to dinner. We had been together for a year and although the idea of moving together had already crossed my mind, I would never think that you would be the one who finally says it out loud.

“Okay, just let’s talk about it when you are sober,” I poked your nose in fondness, chuckling at your childish frown. I was so fond of your two sides; the serious and hard-working one that you used during your shifts and the childish, careless one that you showed to me when we were together. You were a mixture of everything.

“I’m sober,” you protested angrily, puckering up your lips. You could never handle alcohol well – or at least as well as I could - but it was our first anniversary after all. I didn’t want to hold you back and I knew from experience that you wasn’t that kind of drunk person that started making out with total strangers and vandalising, you were more like that type who hugged trees and sang children songs when you drank too much.

“I don’t think so, miss,” I clicked my tongue, highly doubting your statement. I loved teasing you, especially when you were a bit tipsy because that’s when you were the most entertaining. Yet, you loved to keep your hilarious accidents as a secret and as a loyal boyfriend, I didn’t even tell anyone. Oh, what a fool I was!

“Oh yeah?” you raised your eyebrows challengingly. “Would you like to fight me?” now you wiggled your eyebrows and it was such a comical sight, I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

I still wonder sometimes. Was it all an act? Were all those memories fake? Were you acting all along?

 “I love you,” you whispered lovingly, your head snuggled to my chest. Our fingers were intertwined, complementing each other like two little pieces of a big puzzle. I could feel your heart beating next to mine, it was a soothingly beautiful melody to my ears. Since I was a song writer, you should know how big of a compliment that was. You couldn’t have found a better time to confess to me.

“I love you, too,” I tenderly cupped your chin to force you to look at me because I wanted you to see me when I tell you those words. I wanted you to see that I was serious. I wanted you to look into my eyes and see the flames that you ignited. I wanted you to get immersed in the love that was radiating off of me.

“Would you promise me that you will write a song about me?” you asked curiously, your eyes hinting at your amusement. When you noticed the gentle rise of my eyebrows, you burst into little fists of laughter and stated that it was only a joke, you merely wanted to see my reaction.

Nonetheless, I promised you that I would write a song about you that would be on top of the charts because I thought that you were the one for me and writing a song about a love like ours would definitely make a great hit.

 I promised you, didn’t I?

You didn’t ask for a lovey-dovey love song, so you can’t say that I didn’t obey your command.

It’s a raw, heart-wrenching and honest song. It’s a song of heart-break and the feeling of falling apart.

Congratulations. At least, one of us is keeping our promise.

 Congratulations. You are on the music charts.

[narusetami]

30th December 2014; VTS PARTY

Tami had been looking forward to this for weeks. There would be a good turn out this year, her father had said, and she had to agree the party this year was bigger than the year before. It meant a lot to her, she’d been pushing tickets at school for week, trying to convince as many students as possible to pester their parents to come along and show support. People were always nervous when the Vampire Tolerance Society threw a party, she could understand that from a logical point of view, but Tami knew people just forgot that before they were vampires they were... well... they were just people too. They’d had lives, families, homes and jobs. This one thing couldn’t be left to hold them back for the rest of their immortal existence, it wasn’t fair and every year the party got a little bigger she was pleased to think more and more people were starting to see that.

Even though she was technically a guest she had spent most of the party so far casually talking to people about the organisation and what they did, she was her father’s daughter and couldn’t help herself, whenever she felt as though she could make a difference she had to do it, otherwise every day would feel like a waste. Still, after having the same conversation a dozen times she was a little tired and had excused herself from a crowd of new faces to find herself something to eat or drink- all this talking was thirsty work, she needed something to keep her going of her parents would be carrying her home. Not that that was new, she’d been to parties like this for years, when she was little it wasn’t uncommon for her parents to find her tuckered out in the corner of the room. She’d wake up the next morning tucked in bed, warm and cosy in pyjamas, proud of herself and well-rested.

She moved to the refreshment table eagerly, weaving between tables and being careful not to stand on anyone’s dresses or cloaks- everyone was impeccably dressed, some guests didn’t have the most modern sense of fashion but Tami thought it was sort of lovely to see such a blend of people in outfits from all different eras, if anything she felt rather under dressed in comparison. It was a brief thought, one that dissolved when she was faced with such a display, Honeydukes had donated all kinds of treats this year and she was quick to grab a plate and load it up with all kinds of cakes and sweets, taking a large bite from a cookie that tasted like strawberries and cream- gosh, she did love magic- and was set on scoffing the entire thing in a very unladylike fashion when she spotted a familiar face. She almost forgot her plate of food entirely as she moved along the table and when close enough smiled brightly.

“Professor Foley, you made it!”

“Tamiko,” The professor had probably heard her approaching, she realised, but he still waited until he was called to turn to her and offer a polite smile. He was dressed in fairly modern attire, she noticed, and held a glass of clear liquid carefully in one hand. She wondered what it was but squashed that curiosity when he continued, “I did, I would hardly miss it. It’s been a wonderful evening so far, I’ve yet to speak to your father though.”

“He’s always very busy,” She agreed with a sigh, though was quick to brighten as she gestured a hand to herself and laughed lightly, “I guess I’m the consolation prize, I’ve been talking people’s ears off all night and boring them, no doubt, but I’m glad you’re having a nice time, I think most people are.”

“I highly doubt you’ve bored anyone, you’re well informed and that’s a good thing.”

“Thank you, professor, I hope you’re right.”

“No need to thank me. So tell me, Tamiko, how was your Christmas? Busy I suppose? I don’t think I’ve known a Christmas where I haven’t heard your father is working hard with you by his side, did you at least take a break on Christmas Day?”

“It’s been a great holiday, very busy but we wouldn’t really have it any other way.” It wouldn’t be any kind of Christmas if they weren’t busy but it was nice, bustling would perhaps be a better word, things were non-stop and a little tiring but no days were wasted and she appreciated that. Smiling easily, thinking briefly of Christmas Day itself, she nodded, “We did take a little break, Christmas Day was peaceful enough, did all the usual dinner and exchange of gifts.”

“Is that new?”

“Hm?”

“Your pendant, I don’t believe I’ve seen you wear it before.”

It was new to her but, in fact, rather old. It was a simple design, a silver chain from her neck and from the centre hung a thin silver circle with a ‘W’ in the centre. Half the ‘W’ was gold, the other silver, her mother had a similar design etched into a ring she always wore, her grandmother supposedly had earrings that also matched. Three pieces of a set, handed down through her family for quite a few generations as far as she knew, she wasn’t exactly sure who the set was originally made for but either way she felt a strong connection to the piece. It carried a lot of history, she could feel it, and history was very important to her.

“It was my great-grandmother’s, so I’ve been told. So it is new, to me, but it’s actually rather old, it’s been in my family for a long time.”

“I see,” The professor gave a small nod. “A ‘W’? Does that stand for anything in particular?”

“I’m not sure, professor. I suppose it could, that’s what I assumed, there’s three pieces to the set so I think they must have all belonged to one person at one point but they’ve been passed down again and again, we’ve sort of lost track.” Tami sighed, unconsciously twiddling the pendant between her fingers. It could stand for a lot of names really, they’d have to go back into her mother’s ancestry to find out where they started but her parents didn’t talk about Japan too much but that, no doubt, would be the best place to track information on her family down. “Maybe I’ll have to look into it?"

“Yes, perhaps you should. Will you excuse me, Tamiko?”

“Oh... Sure, of course! Have a nice evening, professor.”

Something was wrong. Tami couldn’t put her finger on it but she just knew it, something had felt off since her conversation with Professor Foley but she couldn’t think why. He’d been polite as ever, as a teacher he’d always been kind to spare her a few seconds of time when they bumped into each other at these things, they kept talk light- despite how curious she was about his life, about how he’d impacted the organisation with his struggle, how much he’d accomplished and what that meant to him- and nothing said in those brief moments together had been out of the ordinary. It wasn’t even what he said, that she was sure of, it was something else. Something she was missing.

It was like a riddle, the answer on the tip of her tongue, when she realised what it was it would seem so ridiculously obvious and she’d likely laugh about it, feel stupid for having not noticed it earlier, it would all come together like perfect puzzle pieces and how silly she would feel for letting this doubt linger over her for so long.

She took a sip of the glass of water she’d fetched herself, lingering by the refreshment table though her eyes wandered the crowd, not looking for anyone or anything in particular, simply trying to keep her gaze moving while she thought so she didn’t end up staring blankly in one direction until this feeling blew over. That was the last thing she needed, to blink herself out of some trance to realise she’d been staring at some important member of the organisation and made them uncomfortable at their own event, which had taken weeks upon weeks of very meticulous-

And then it clicked.

Dead ahead, she caught sight of a gorgeously dressed woman. She wore a modern gown, deep purple wrapped around her frame and clung tightly, highlighting every lovely aspect of her frame while a slit in the material gave subtle glimpses of a pale thigh. Her hair was gathered up and pinned carefully so delicate curls tickled at the back of her neck and, from what Tami could tell, framed a face that would no doubt be as lovely as the rest of her. It was the neck she saw though, a beautiful and slender neck, and at the very nape- just under the fallen curls- was a delicately imprinted ‘W’ in clear black ink.

It could mean anything, she told herself, a single letter could stand for millions of things.

But then there was another. A man to her left, silver cuff-links with ‘W’s’ cut into them. A woman to her right, a golden ‘W’ charm hanging off a bracelet. They were everywhere. Not on everyone, but when she was actually looking for them she could see them printed on various people throughout the crowd; on rings, on pendants, inked into a person’s wrist, inked behind a person’s ear, there was even one clear on the ankle of Songs Eternal’s front-woman. In a room of what must have been over a hundred people, close to a dozen had the same letter somewhere on their person, too many to just be a coincidence. Too many people and she was one of them, she’d absentmindedly brought a hand up to fiddle with her own pendant again but noticing now she was quick to drop her hand away and take a large gulp of water.

In her family for generations, her mother had told her, but apparently not just her family.

What exactly did it mean?

The professor’s question played back in her mind: A ‘W’? Does that stand for anything in particular?

She didn’t know, but she had a feeling that Professor Foley definitely did.

[ecotone99]

[FN] [RF] [SP] The Long Goodbye

I died on a Thursday, if I recall correctly. I could easily blame it on the weather, but it was a nice sunny day, not too bright, not too cold, and I just wasn’t paying attention. I just HAD to see who texted me… a telemarketing text. When I looked up, I was already into oncoming traffic. The last thing I remember seeing with my physical eyes was the word “Freightliner”, I heard a squeal of rubber on asphalt and then the flash.

I opened my eyes to see nothing but pavement. I stood up, dusted myself off and turned back to witness a grizzly scene. The entire front of my car was compacted, crushed by the massive frame of the semi that I collided with. I surveyed the damage and, I still shudder to this day when I saw myself. I was barely recognizable. Blood everywhere, bones protruding through skin, limbs mangled, I felt like I was going to throw up. But then I heard a voice behind me and I knew exactly who it was.

“Michael Aaron Kozlowski?” The voice was deep but not intimidating, not as fearful as I had imagined all these years and from all the movies I had seen. I turned around to see him. There was no robe, no scythe, just a skeleton in a plain black suit and overcoat studying a clipboard and checking his pocket watch. He looked up at me.

“Mr. Kozlowski, am I correct?” the vacuous sockets of his skull had the expression of weariness and employee burnout.

“Yeah, that’s me.” I responded.

“Good. For a moment, I thought I got lost on the way. You’d be surprised how many Michael Kozlowski’s there are in the world.” He was very matter of fact, not this hulking foreboding figure that I was expecting. My curiosity got the better of me. I walked from the wreckage and approached him.

“Wait a minute. If you’re death then where’s all the… the…” I lost my words for a moment, but he was happy to assist.

“The robe and sickle.” As he chuckled, his bones rattled under the suit. “Can I call you Mike?”

“Sure, that’s what everyone else called me.”

“Mike, name one person you know, aside from religious folk that wear robes nowadays?”

“You got a point. So… ” I lost my words again, but was quick to find them “..so how does this work?”

“How does what work?”

“Y’know.. the whole death thing?”

“Oh.. OH.” he chuckled again “…almost forgot to do my job again.” He quickly switched his focus back to his clipboard and flipped through several papers.

“Ah, here we are. Michael Aaron Kozlowski..” he trailed off in an indiscernible mumble for a moment and then rose back to audible clarity “…age 41…” I watched as his boney finger traced the information on the page, from line to line and section to section.

“…died July 27, Two Thousand….” I knew what day it was, but I guess he had to go through all of the particulars as part of his duty.

“…sudden fracture of the skull, succumbed to multiple internal injuries, hemorrhaging, blunt trauma, collapsed lung, DAMN… that was a nasty one, wasn’t it?” I grimly nodded, trying to be as patient as possible.

“…survived by Kathryn Avery, wife, and Jacob Thomas, son…”

“OH SHIT!” He stopped his read-through of his documentation and looked up at me.

“Excuse me?”

“I completely forgot about Katie and Jake”

“Well, you’ve been through quite a lot in the past 3 weeks.”

“Well I know but… wait a minute. Three weeks?”

“Yeah, the general processing and admittance takes about 4-6 weeks. We’ve been standing here for three.”

“But…”

“Yeah, I know. Only seemed like a few hours?”

“..I was going to say minutes, but… really? Three weeks?” He held up his pocket watch, pressed a tiny button on the side which allowed the cover to swing open and reveal the beautiful antique face. The face seemed to be normal, except there were many more numbers than the standard twelve.

“Time moves much slower in the afterlife, Mike.”

“How many numb…”

“42”

“Are you serious?” I smirked as if he were playing a joke on me.

“Douglas Adams had it right.” He said as he closed the watch pack up and placed it back in his left breast pocket. “Now where were we?”

“I was remembering my wife and son.”

“Oh yeah. What about them?”

“Well, if I figure it correctly, I’m a ghost right now, right?”

“Technically, but..” He turned up his clipboard to show me the lavender sheet of paper with his orders on it, “…I’ve got orders. Says here that..” He trailed off again, running through the items in another section of the paperwork, “…you’ve been pretty much of a good egg. Helped others when they needed it. Diligent worker, Loving Husband and father. You’re getting your wings, Mike.”

“Wait.. I’m going to be an angel?”

“What?! HA!” He snorted out a laugh. I didn’t even know a skeleton could snort “… no no no. That’s just a phrase we use to say that you’re going upstairs, and not… well, y’know.”

“Well that’s a relief, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, do I have to go now?”

“Mike, where else are you going to go?”

“Well, I’d like to say goodbye, if I can.”

“Sorry. That’s against the rules.”

“Eternity has rules?”

“Well, they’re more of guidelines than rules. You don’t want to get yourself tangled back up into the world of the living. It’ll only lead to anguish, Mike.”

“What do you mean?” He motioned for me to follow him. We began to walk down the road where the accident originally occurred. As I looked around, I noticed that the accident had been completely cleared away, and we were walking through streaks of red and white as we crossed the freeway. He put his hands behind his back and looked out towards the horizon.

“Mike,” he sighed “…when I died back in, oh… when was it… ugh.. I can’t even remember, I was confused and disoriented just like you were. The reaper that gave me his spiel was a lot less… personable. Y’know.. the whole black robe and all that jazz, like you thought. I was in my mid-twenties and I was killed in battle, riddled with arrows actually. And my first thoughts were of my bride back in our village. Since the reaper wasn’t as friendly, he just said NO.. IT IS FORBIDDEN. To which I said “Fuck that.” and I took off. I ran for eons to get back to my village. But, when I finally got there, I didn’t take into account the time change. Time moves differently here, and instead of a couple days for me to return, it was a couple decades. My wife had already remarried and had a new family of her own. I was devastated.”

I stood there enamored by his tale.

“Trust me, by the time you get back to your family, they’ll have moved on, and many years will have passed. If you truly love them, just wait a little longer, they’ll come around.”

“What ever happened to your bride? She had to have died. Did you two ever meet back up?”

“We’re not here to talk about me, Mike. This is your time.” With that, he took a small device out of his right hand coat pocket. It resembled a Game Boy with it’s green screen and a couple red buttons on the console. He slid his clipboard under his arm and typed in a few commands that were answered with a series of heavenly chimes and tones.

From above, above, a single ray of light bore down upon the two of us. He looked at me and smiled a skeletal grin.

“Going up?” The light got brighter and brighter until I was forced to close my eyes. I was curious to see what was waiting for me on the other side. I was excited to see all those who passed before me, but… but I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wouldn’t see my own funeral. I couldn’t get out of my mind that I would miss all of Jake’s milestone moments. He just started kindergarten, so I would miss teaching him how to ride a bike, helping him with his homework, teaching him how to drive, sending him off on his first date, watching him graduate high school and college, being there for his wedding, never meeting my grandkids.

At that moment, I dove out of the beam of light and back onto the freeway, the red and white streaks flew past me forwards and back, disorienting me and causing me to tumble over the guardrail and plummet the hundred feet below under the overpass.

I landed with a deadening thud. My vision was blurry and the ringing in my ears slowly ceased. I could see Him look over the edge and down at me. What was just incoherent sounds soon transformed to His voice bellowing down to me.

“HEY! Mike! Are you alright?”

Now was my chance. I was far enough away from Him that I could make a break for it. I calmly stood up, dusted myself off, and looked up to see Him looking down at me, leaning over the guardrail.

“How do I get back up?” I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled back up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come down to you,” He answered. In a flash of white smoke, he was gone. I took this opportunity to run like Hell. I scurried away from where I was and headed in the direction of where I used to live. I darted through the trees and bushes that were underneath the freeway, frantically trying to make me way back home. I ran for about a minute before POOF He appeared through that same puff of white smoke and towered over me. I ran full force into his body and bounced back about six feet, and landed on my ass.

“What the HELL do you think you are doing, man?” He scolded. “Didn’t you hear what I told you? By the time you get back to your house, everyone will have moved on! You’ll be heartbroken because they will have moved on without you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second!” I shouted back. “I loved my family with all my heart. And they loved me. I refuse to believe that I will ever leave their thoughts.”

“Mike, I’m telling you, just wait and they’ll…”

“NO! I can’t wait. I need to…” a lump, the size of Montana rose up into my throat, and I was left speechless for a moment. I swallowed it back down, and with it, my eyes began to well up and overflow. I looked down at my shoes. I just now noticed that even though I had been running through the dirt and mud, they were still spotless as the day I bought them.

“…Did you have kids?” I asked Him.

“What?” He was puzzled. I did my best to compose myself, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Jake. The tears were now running down my cheeks.

“When you were alive, did you ever have kids?”I think he finally knew where I was going with this line of questioning.

“No,” He sighed. “I died before we were able to try.”

“Then you have NO idea the kind of pain I am going through right now. There are certain things that a father needs to do with his son so that he grows up right. I needed to be there for him, and now, I won’t be able to. I was robbed of that chance to make sure that I could raise him to be the man he needed to be. I was robbed to experiencing his successes, his failures, his joy and his sorrow. I can’t be there for him. And you just want me to WAIT?”

He stood there, silent.

“Fuck YOU! Fuck your guidelines. Fuck this bullshit that they’ll just move on. My son meant SO MUCH to me, and I’m just supposed to say, oh well, shit happens, he’ll be fine. NO! I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THAT!”

He nodded his head for a moment, took a deep breath and looked back at me, sternly.

“I know I can’t reverse time. I know I can’t just can’t come back to life. THIS I can accept. I just want to say goodbye, and that I’m sorry I’m not going to be able to be there for him. Sorry for everything I’m going to miss.”

He brought his boney hand to the bridge of his nose, and rubbed. Looked down again, and sighed.

“You just don’t get it, Mike.” He looked back up at me.

“But, you’re not the first. Some people just accept death and go with the flow. Others, like you, rebel from square one.” He took the device out again. “Gimme one second.”

A series of chimes and beeps emanated from the device as he pressed some buttons and waited for a response.

“OK, Mike. I can respect the fact that you want to see your son. That you want to at least tell him goodbye, and I know I’m not going to be able to change your mind about this. So, I’ve requested from the boys upstairs that you are granted a temporary free pass just to see this thing out.” I wiped the tears away from my eyes at the news that I was going to be able to see my son.

“There’s just a few conditions. First, I have to go with you. I have been assigned to your case, so I have to make sure you don’t go all poltergeist on me. That goes on my permanent record, and I’m not having that. Second, as soon as you say what you need to say to… Jake, was it,”he double checked his clipboard, “I make the call and we head upstairs, immediately. Do you understand?”

I giddily nodded my head and reached out to shake his hand. He immediately pulled it away and held it up to stop me from getting any closer.

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Don’t shake my hand just yet, Mike. You’re the one that wanted this, and you may not be happy with what you see.”

He turned away from me and pressed a button on the device. As it began to whirr and beep, he checked his clipboard once more. The device gave a tiny DING and he studied the screen.

“OK, your old house is roughly, 5 miles South, Southwest of our current location. I suggest we get back up to the freeway and walk from there. It’ll be much easier on flat ground, OK?”

I nodded and looked around. I had been running so fast that I completely lost track of where the freeway was. He pointed a skeletal finger to our right, and I headed in that direction. I started to smile. I was going to see my Jake again.

We were walking for about 3 miles amongst the red and white streaks along our sides when I finally decided to look up at the sky. It was night, and the stars shone so vividly, that I could easily see the Milky Way band across the deep indigo sea. I stopped walking. He continued.

“Hey, wait a minute!” I beckoned. He finally stopped and turned around.

“What?” He mumbled.

“OK, explain this to me. The streak to our left and right are obviously the cars passing back and forth along the freeway, going at their normal speed, but to us, time is moving so fast, that they just appear as these streaks, right?”

“What are you getting at, Mike?”

“What’s the deal with the sky?”

“What deal?”

“Why isn’t the sky and the sun and moon moving at the same speed? Shouldn’t it be light-dark-light-dark really fast, just like everything else.”

“Hmm, if I remember correctly, it has to do with the speed of light. You see, since we are moving so fast through time, the sun isn’t up long enough for it to hit your eyes, so it’s always night. For the same reason, you’ll never see the moon in the sky either.”

He was right. It was just all stars and clusters and nebula.

“Wait a minute?”

“What is it now, Mike?”

“How fast ARE we going?”

“That conversation we just had…”

“Yeah?”

“ A week.”

A week!! We’d been walking a couple hours and that conversation just took a minute or two. I didn’t like where this was going, but I HAD to see this through. I think He started to sense that I was finally starting to see things his way.

After about 4-5 hours, we finally reached my old house. It was still there. The paint was different, and there was a few different cars in the driveway, but the house still stood. I ran for the front door, but He stopped me, held me by the arm.

“Hold on there, Mike. Did you forget about the time difference?”

“What about it?”

“Well, if they’re going at the speed I told you about, how are you going to be able to sit down and say goodbye to your son?” I contemplated the situation, and turned to Him with an expression of worry.

“Don’t worry. I can slow things down a bit, but I can’t do it for long. Just long enough for you to get your goodbyes in and then we’re off, ok?” I waited for Him to bring out his device once more, press a couple buttons and then I felt and heard time slow down. It is one of the most unusual events a human being can ever experience. Imagine you are in the center of a record player, spinning at 77 rpms and suddenly, someone puts their finger on the record and slows down it down. The world simply lurched to a slower pace, and the sound was equally disturbing. A soft, high pitched whirr suddenly increased in volume and choked back the pitch until it was a low hum, a familiar hum – the hum of life. I could hear the wind, the traffic, the normal sounds of my old neighborhood. I was back and it was a glorious sound to behold.

“Alright, now you can go in.” He let go of my arm and I ran to the house. I thought about knocking, but I almost forgot, I was dead. So I just walked on through the door.

The house was different. It was mostly the same furniture, but there were somethings that were askew. The family portraits used to be on the far wall, that connected the livingroom to the kitchen. The kitchen table used to be rotated ninety degrees… little things.

The other strange thing was that all the lights were on, but there were no people. Why would Katie leave all the lights on if no one was going to be home? I began to walk around the house. I walked slowly down the hall to where the bedrooms were. First, on the left was Jake’s. The door was open so I didn’t need to pass through to peer in. The room was empty. Even the carpeting was gone. It looked like no one had used that room in years. A knot was beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right. I continued down the hall, and to the right was our old bedroom. The decor was certainly more… modern than how I remember it. The walls were a different color. As I panned across the room, my eyes finally reached the bed. Under the covers lay an old man, tucked in tight and looking like he was on his last legs.

What the shit?

Who the hell was this guy? And then I thought, Katie may have remarried and time had passed, this may be her new husband. I looked around the room for more clues. I didn’t see any pictures of Katie and me, or Katie and her new husband, so the identity of this man was still a mystery. His breathing became more forced and he began to cough. Whoever this guy was, his time was almost up. Suddenly I heard a clatter coming from the hallway. I turned to look as a group of people slowly walked down the hall and into the room, surrounding the bed. I looked at all of the people, and surprisingly didn’t recognize a single one. “HEY!” I shouted out. I turned around and He was right behind me, holding his device up and reading its display.

“Yeah?” He said, still studying the screen of the device, the glow lighting up his skull.

“What is this? Who are all these people?”

“This is your family, Mike.”

“What?!” I turned back and looked. I looked very hard at all of them. “This is not my family. I don’t recognize any of these people.”

“Think of the time, Mike.”

“Think of the time? The hell does THAT mean?”Then, I heard one of the children speak. They had approached the old man in the bed and held his hand. Tears began to roll down their cheeks, as they could barely get the words out. As the words left the child’s mouth, that knot in my stomach forced its way up into my throat and I immediately began to sob giant tears of regret.

“Goodbye Grandpa Jake.”

The old man turned his head to the child and I could finally see his face clearly. The eyes, the mouth, the one crooked eyebrow. It was my Jake. All grown up and now, at the end of his life. He was able to do it all without me. I looked around the room again and studied all the photos. There were pictures of him with his wife, and his kids, I saw the progression of them grow up, and Jake grow older. I saw a photograph of him, much younger than he is now sitting with an older woman. I looked closer. Katie. He was sitting with his mother. Her hands were clasped together on her lap with her left hand on top, wedding band absent. After all these years, she never remarried. I continued to look at the photos, and saw all the experiences he had that I missed.

“I missed it all.” I mumbled to myself. He came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

“I tried to tell you, but you were too stubborn. I figured you had to learn for yourself. As soon as you get whisked away, we have a constant connection back down here, you could have watched it all, been there every step of the way. All you had to do was wait.”

The tears were uncontrollable running down my face now.

“What do you mean WAIT? How long? How long would I have had to wait?”

“Five minutes, tops.”

“FIVE MINUTES?”

“I had to find out the hard way too, Mike.”

Suddenly, Jake gasped, his eyes rolled back into his head and the color faded from his face. A loud sound blared from the device and He took notice of it. He pressed a few buttons and then put it back in his pocket.

“Well, looks like I have to take both of you.”

“What?” I spun around. It started low, but a wind began to blow inside the house. I couldn’t feel it, but I could definitely hear it. It grew louder and louder until it was as boisterous and roaring as a tornado. I plugged my ears and waited for it to pass. I was facing Him at the time, and he pointed behind me and slowly spun me around as the winds blew. Jake began to glow and as the wind blew more fierce the light grew brighter. It grew so bright that I was forced to cover my eyes the light penetrated my eyelids so I was forced to turn back around. The wind died and the light diminished. I opened my eyes and uncovered my ears. The people surrounding the bed were all crying. But Jake, old Jake stood in front of the bed looking at all the people. After looking upon on all of his family members that he would be leaving behind, he turned towards me and Him.

He instantly recognized Him and knew what was to follow.

“Jacob Thomas Kozlowski?” He said in the same tone in which he uttered my name to me. Jake nodded.

“You know who I am, right?” He asked the old man. Jake slowly nodded. Jake’s attention soon turned from the tall skeleton in the suit and overcoat to me. He looked at me and concentrated, studying every feature of my face. I couldn’t look away. It was the first time I saw my son’s face since I died. I did my best to compose myself, but it’s not easy when you have waiting to see someone just one more time.

“Well, because of this guy,” He gave me a friendly shove, “I will be taking both of you upstairs. You’ve had a good life, Jake. Both of you have. Come on, now. Kathryn is waiting.”

Both of us turned our focus to Him.

“Katie?” I blurted out, and at the same time “Mom?” The old man stuttered. It was at that moment, when it clicked for Jake. I slowly looked back and him and he returned my gaze. Tears began to well up in his eyes, his lip began to tremble and magically, the years started to melt away. Soon I was looking at the man Jake grew to be. And that’s when he said it, the one thing I missed from the moment this journey began.

“Dad?”

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