#✿┊you really are the king idiot. ( grant ward. )

[analyticallymindedaa]

tag dump bc tumblr ate my tags part 3/?

[analyticallymindedarchive]

tumblr ate my tags 1/???

[airplanelanding]

For the Angst April Fic: 25 - Immortality

YES THIS WAS ONE I RLY WANTED TO DO TYSM HELL YES THIS IS GONNA BE AN ANGSTY ONE (also loving the new post editor on desktopppp [i have beta on])

Tysm for sending me this one ohhh I'm so happy you sent this one

cw: temporary character death, (technically) suicide (but in the context of proving immortality & bc he knew he'd survive, not because he was suicidal)

Fic below the cut

Immortality

Merlin breathed out slowly, the air leaving his lungs with a sigh.

His eyes fell shut, drooping slowly lower and lower until they closed, and his grip on Arthur began to loosen.

Faintly, he heard a panicked voice stumbling through words he couldn't understand.

He could feel his heartrate slowing. One... Two...... Three...... Four...... Five...... Six......

Slower, slower, slower...

His name, he heard his name being called. A choked sob. A tight grip around his body. Then, nothing...

Then...

Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes opening abruptly. There was a harsh, stinging pain in his stomach. He ignored it for the moment, as he broke out into a coughing fit, desperately gasping for breath between coughs.

He didn't—what just happened? He was sure he had—

"Merlin?!" The voice ripped him out of his confusion as he quickly turned his gaze to the man cradling his body in his arms.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked, his voice rough from coughing so much.

"Merlin, no, but you were..." Arthur's grip on Merlin loosened, his confusion clear as day. "We have to get you back home, back to Gaius."

Merlin just groaned softly, leaning his head against the King's chest. "'m tired..."

Arthur slowly stood up, lifting Merlin in his arms as he did so he was carrying him.

"Don't fall asleep, Merlin, dammit, you're such an idiot..." Arthur muttered as he began to walk, "we're lucky we're close enough to the edge of the forest, the attack spooked the horses... You can't just keep jumping in front of me like that, sorcerer or not, one of these you're going to—I thought this time you had..."

The sorcerer just groaned again and shut his eyes.

"I did..." He whispered, trying his hardest not to let sleep take him. He felt Arthur tense, stumbling in his step slightly.

"No, no you couldn't have, because you're alive," Arthur sounded more like he was trying to assure himself rather than Merlin. "You just lost consciousness for a few minutes. That's all."

Merlin frowned but didn't argue, not having the energy. Instead he just hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. He knew he died... He felt it. He felt himself die, his heart stop... Yet, he was alive. He was breathing. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached and his stomach burned where he was struck, but... He was alive.

How was he alive?

"Merlin... Merlin, my boy, I need you to open your eyes..."

Ah, Gaius, he must be home... When did he fall asleep? Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes.

"Gaius...?" Merlin groaned, looking around for the man as he blinked a few times to clear his eyes, "What happened? I—I died... But I'm alive."

When his eyes finally landed on the old physician's grim expression, a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Merlin, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Gaius sighed, before sitting down on the edge of the sorcerer's bed. "Arthur brought you back, with a fatal wound in your stomach. He told me what happened and I am certain that you did not just lose consciousness, I am certain you died..."

"I did, I felt it happen, but, Gaius, I am alive," Merlin insisted, propping himself up on his elbows with a wince.

Gaius' mouth drew into a thin line. "You are, indeed. So, I did some research while you were out these past three days—"

"Three days?!"

"—and I discovered something... Something about your name to the druids," Gaius continued as if Merlin never interrupted him. "Emrys, it... Means immortal. And these events are leading me to the conclusion that they don't call you this for no reason."

Merlin's heart dropped. Immortal... He's... Merlin shook his head.

"No, no, there must be another explanation," he laughed, but he was not at all amused. Gaius sighed softly and placed a hand on his wards shoulder.

"I'm afraid there's not... I consulted Mordred, and he confirmed my suspicion. You're immortal, Merlin."

Merlin slumped down onto his magic. He felt ill... Oh gods, he felt so sick.

"But I can't be..."

Merlin took a deep breath as he paced the King’s chambers, waiting for him to arrive back from a council meeting.

How was he supposed to tell Arthur the truth?

He couldn’t lie—he promised, they promised. No more secrets, no more lies. But dammit, this was… This wasn’t just something like he had magic, or he’d ripped his favourite shirt.

He was immortal.

Oh, it felt so wrong to even think…

How do you tell someone you’re immortal? How do you tell someone you love that you’re going to live forever, that you’ll have to watch them wither away and die along with everyone else you know…?

Merlin took a nervous breath and let himself drop into a chair at Arthur’s table. He was going to have to watch everyone he’d ever loved die…

He was forced to live on for eternity while everyone he cared about struggled with mortality.

A cruel fate… Yet, the druids dared to call him blessed.

Blessed. That was a good joke.

How could one be called blessed when condemned to such a life?

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. He’d be alone… Never able to grow attached to someone, too afraid of losing them like he knew he would… A lonely life, he’d be sentenced to. Should he start pushing people away now…? Save himself the pain?

No, he couldn’t. That would be cruel to them, as well as himself…

“Merlin?” The sorcerer nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice to his right. “Merlin, you’re awake! And, up! How are you feeling?”

Merlin dropped his hands and looked over to Arthur, who looked so happy and hopeful at the sight of him. Here he was, about to crush that…

“I—” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur’s brows furrowed in a frown.

“You? You what?” The King pushed, concern flickering on his face a moment, “are you alright? You look like you’re about to be ill. Should you be out of bed yet? Gaius said you only just woke recently…”

A tense silence hung between them, as Merlin contemplated how to say the words that had been weighing on his chest. Finally, when Arthur looked like he was going to give up, Merlin found the courage to speak up.

“I can’t die,” he forced out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes widened impossibly wide, as he stared incredulously at his friend and lover.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

“…What?” He finally got out. Merlin gave a weak smile, knowing just how crazy it sounded.

“I can’t die,” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as the reality of it hit him, this having been the first time he spoke the words aloud. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears as he stared at Arthur, holding eye contact. “I…I’m immortal, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a breath, stunned by the revelation.

Merlin expected him to laugh, to claim him lying, or even to leave the room or tell Merlin to leave. Even after all they’d been through, after the months they’d been together after finally getting their heads out of their asses and confessing… Merlin was shocked, only minorly but still so, when Arthur suddenly grabbed and pulled Merlin into a tight embrace.

He tensed a moment, startled, but slowly relaxed and returned the hug, burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Arthur murmured, “what do you say when you find out your soon-to-be husband is immortal?”

Merlin huffed out a soft laugh. “I don’t know… I didn’t think we’d ever have to deal with that.”

Arthur hummed softly before falling quiet. They stood there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes, just…silent. Until, finally, Merlin pulled away with a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Arthur sighed, raising a hand to the sorcerer’s face and cupping his cheek, “we’ll get through this together, yes?”

“There’s not much to get through, Arthur… I’m going to have to watch everyone I’ve ever loved die before my eyes,” Merlin muttered, before leaning into the touch, “but yes, I won’t turn down your support…”

Arthur frowned at him a moment before exhaling and stepping back to stretch. “Let’s take your mind off this. I have some new legislation to review, come assist me.”

Merlin laid in Arthur’s bed that night, unable to sleep. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he laid on his side, staring at his betrothed.

Before, Destiny had weighed him down with the possibility that he’d be forced to watch the man he loved be taken from him. Now… Now, it was inevitable. He would watch as Arthur faded from life, no matter how he died. He’d have to watch him… He would lose him and he could do nothing.

It wasn’t just Arthur, either, he realized with a pang of hurt.

Gwen… Morgana, Leon… Elyan, and Gwaine, and Lancelot… Percival… Everyone. Everyone was going to be taken from him.

Gaius… His mother.

Merlin choked back a sob, closing his eyes tightly. Everyone. Everyone.

He could never have children.

Oh, gods, he could never have children… He—he’d be condemned to watch them grow old and die.

Was this really what fate wanted for him? What destiny planned?

How cruel. How unnecessarily, unbelievably cruel. What was the point of it? Why, why do this to him? Did they simply wish to see him suffer? Did the gods believe they were granting him a favour? Did they believe they were rewarding him, by subjecting him to a life of eternal loneliness and heartache?

Did they think it amusing?

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, thick with sleep, snapped him out of his spiral, “why are you awake, cariad? It’s the middle of the night…”

Merlin quickly wiped away the tears that had slipped free, as Arthur blinked open his eyes slowly and yawned. “Couldn’t sleep…” He mumbled, “what about you? Did I wake you?”

“Mm… Technically, no, but I could feel your eyes on me.” Arthur shifted closer and pulled Merlin against him, resting their foreheads together. “What were you thinking about? Oh, no, I know…”

He paused, yawning again, before continuing. “The immortal thing, hm?”

Merlin’s silence seemed to be all the answer needed, because Arthur sighed softly and pressed a tired kiss to his nose.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? It’ll be fine, Merlin,” he assured, sounding way too confident for someone who’s words were slurred, “we’ll figure something out… We always do. You won’t be alone… won’t let you…”

“I appreciate that, Arthur…” Merlin said truthfully, “now, get back to sleep… You have things to do tomorrow.”

Arthur hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You sleep, too…” He ordered as he drifted back to sleep.

“I’ll try,” Merlin promised, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Arthur.

It was a sennight later that Merlin wandered the castle corridors with a frown on his face, eyes searching a head of blond as he walked.

Arthur had been acting strange since they discovered Merlin’s immortality, and now… Now he was just gone?

Merlin had searched the castle three times, and no one had seen him all day. He woke up without the King in bed beside him, the knights knew nothing, the servants knew nothing, Gaius and Gwen knew nothing…

It was like he just disappeared!

How does a King disappear?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. He was worried, yes, of course, but he was also growing slowly angry.

How dare he just disappear without a word?! That man had better have been kidnapped for his sake. After another few minutes searching the castle, Merlin finally just stalked back to their chambers.

Arthur had better have a very good explanation when he got back, Merlin decided as he flung the doors open and stomped over to the bed before flopping onto it. Or else he’d getting turned into a toad. A big, ugly, slimy, wart-covered toad. And Merlin’s not changing him back.

Merlin groaned loudly into the duvet in frustration.

Stupid, stupid prat.

How dare he just disappear like it was nothing and leave Merlin there to worry like a mother hen over her eggs all day! He probably didn’t even realize how concerned Merlin was now.

It wasn’t like he was worried for no good reason, either, because that damn man knew how to get into trouble in any situation, and how the hell is he supposed to help Merlin deal with the fact that he’s immortal if he’s deadthanks to his own idiocy!

Merlin’s stomach turned at the thought, and he rolled over onto his back before sitting up. A frown creased his forehead, and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

What if he really was in danger? What if he was really in danger and Merlin was here, thinking bad about him?

He should go look for him again.

He’s immortal, after all (yay), he doesn’t have to worry about dying protecting Arthur! Arthur, on the other hand, was a fucking beacon for assassins and danger. Right. That decided it.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the door. Then, right as he moved to open it, the door opened to reveal the very prat he was leaving to save, and his heart calmed. He was safe.

“You’re safe…” Merlin sighed, visibly relieved. Arthur frowned in confusion and nodded.

“Yes… I am,” he agreed. Then, it hit Merlin.

He’s safe.

Merlin narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I’m going to turn you into a toad and squash you beneath my boot.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction, before his lips pulled up into an amused smirk.

“Well, that’s rather messy—and graphic.”

“You deserve no less, where have you been?!”

“I was, with the druids, actually,” Arthur cleared his throat, looking away, “Morgana took me to see them.”

Merlin frowned, his glare disappearing to be replaced with a confused look. “What? Why were you with the druids? What took you all day with the druids?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I… Needed their help with something. Look, it’s better if I just show you.”

The warlock raised an eyebrow, but let Arthur usher him into the room further, before sitting down at the table.

“Okay, go ahead, show me. What was worth making me worry my ass off?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Arthur gave him a nervous smile before pulling a small phial out of his satchel and uncorking it.

Merlin tilted his head, frowning deeply. What was he…?

“Merlin, I’m immortal, too,” Arthur told him softly, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, laughing in obvious disbelief.

“Right, and I’m a god.”

Arthur sighed and hesitated, then raised the phial of liquid to his lips.

“Here goes nothing,” he murmured before downing the contents. Merlin watched, growing more and more confused by his betrothed’s actions.

It was only when the phial slipped from Arthur’s hands and shattered on the ground as his skin began to pale and hands began to tremble that Merlin realized what was happening, and panic filled his body.

“Arthur? Arthur!” Merlin was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders as he began to go limp, the—what Merlin now recognized as—poison taking action too fast for Merlin to think of a solution. He didn’t even know what he took! How could he help?! Arthur knew he was shit at healing magic, which was ironic considering he worked with Gaius for so long! “Arthur! Dammit, what are you doing?! Fuck, what did you do?!?”

Merlin’s heart was pounding and tears were filling his eyes as his breath quickened. “Fuck! Arthur, you bastard!” He snapped, unsure what to do, as Arthur’s body slumped in his arms.

He felt the King stop breathing in his arms and he swore his own heart stopped. Then… There was a gasp. A loud, sharp gasp. Then, a fit of coughs wracked Arthur’s body, his shoulders shaking.

Merlin was frozen, stunned. He… He was… But now he was… He really is—

“Arthur, oh, Arthur what did you do?”

Once he had stopped coughing, and Merlin had walked them over and sat them on the bed, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled stupidly.

“I had the druids show me how to use the cup of life,” he explained in a murmur, “I didn’t want you to be alone, for eternity. Now you won’t have to be.”

Merlin stared in silence at his betrothed for a few moments, shocked speechless. Arthur glanced away, coughing a bit more.

“Remind me, to never take Hemlock again,” he muttered rubbing his throat.

That snapped Merlin right out of his daze and he cuffed Arthur upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place! What in the hell were you thinking?!” He demanded to know.

“I was thinking you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you I was immortal!”

“I would’ve if you just told me you used the cup!”

“Oh…”

Merlin let out a high laugh, shaking his head.

“Yes, oh!”

Arthur bit his lip, before looking away sheepishly. “Sorry… I suppose, I was just eager to tell you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore…”

A soft sigh let Merlin’s lips, and he ignored the way his heart flipped. “You’re an idiotic prat, you know? A massive cabbagehead. But… You just gave up your mortality for me… And while part of me hates that you’ll now be subjected to the same pain as I will be when our friends’ times come… I can’t help but feel so…”

“So, what?” Arthur pushed gently, laying back on the bed. Merlin shook his head and laid back beside him.

“I love you… And I can’t believe you love me so much, as to literally give up your mortality for me.”

Arthur smiled and looked over at him, his eyes drooping sleepily (probably tired from dying).

“I’d give up anything for you…”

[the-chick-of-the-air]

A Quiet Kind Of Sad

Summary: Cardan is feeling a bit neglected and it makes him sad. Jude is there to make him feel better. Rating: G

Cardan was sad

That may sound ridiculous, even silly. But the truth was, even the High King of Elfhame felt blue every now and again.

Especially when the cause for such feelings were brought on by those closest to him.

It had started with The Roach.

The spy had arranged for an early sly-footing lesson with the King when out of no where he had to “reschedule”. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered Cardan, but he had been slightly anxious that morning (Jude hadn’t been in bed when he woke. Rather a flimsy piece of parchment stating she’d gone with The Bomb to scout out a potential threat lay in her stead. He very much loved waking up to the warmth of his wife next to him, thank you very much.) and he’d been looking forward to distracting himself with some lessons. Alas, that fell through.

In an even worse mood then normal, Cardan decided to show up to the council meeting scheduled for that afternoon. He still detested the things, but Jude was out (which made it even worse, the only reprieve he found during meetings such as these were when he had his wife firmly by his side) and she would want him to go for the both of them.

This brought on a whole new level of irritation, as none of the council members took him seriously in the first place. Without Jude to steer the ship that was this mess of a meeting, things had quickly spiraled out of hand and ended in a wreck. And of course, no one had deigned to listen to anything the High King had to say, which only further upset him.

He left the council room fuming, with no recollection of anything that was said- it had all been useless pecking anyway, but still- and Cardan had found himself in desperate need of two things, a breather and his Queen.

Thankfully, she had returned sometime during the meeting. She would need a break after all that sleuthing as well, right?

Wrong, apparently.

Cardan had all but burst into his wife’s study, intent in asking-begging, if need be- her to take a walk with him around the gardens. Surely she wouldn’t deny him that? Usually when they were separated for more then half a day they would get agitated without one another. Cardan would dare say it vital to all those who lived in Elfhame to ensure their rulers spent as much time together as possible.

Confidant that he would finally find some solace with his favorite person, he finally got to her and reached out to pull her into himself.

And she immediately moved away from him.

A sharp pang-that he would never admit to…probably- tore into Cardan’s chest. Why had she done that?

Though, he supposed, she had looked distracted, probably didn’t even notice his presence, so caught up in whatever document she was reading as she was. And maybe he’d gotten to good at sly-footing and she hadn’t heard him?

Geared with this hope, Cardan had moved in again, this time aiming to kiss her cheek. That would for sure get her attention-he was proud to say he was the only one allowed to kiss her face without consequences!- however as soon as he got close enough to brush his lips to her skin, she turned from him, murmuring, “Hi. Sorry, busy.”

Bus- what?

Cardan had practically deflated. Normally he’d simply grab her head and press kiss after kiss to her face until he got a laugh or a good natured scowl or something out of her.

But he was always in a good mood when he did that.

Now, he’d felt the final blow of the long beating that this day has doled out to him. And he couldn’t take it anymore. He found himself wilting as he thought back over every interaction he’d had that day. Thought of how The Roach had given no explanation as to his sudden disappearing act. Thought of how the Living Council had argued over his orders and drowned out his words until he had no choice but to remain silent. Thought of how even some servants had been eyeing him with an air of cool distrust that day.

And now his own wife, the one person, the one love he was certain he would be freely granted, especially when everyone else pushed him away, was shutting him out.

With a start, Cardan wondered if this was his doing. He frantically wracked his own mind, searching through his memory of the last few days, trying to find his mistake, his misstep. What had he done to incite such cold reactions from his closest company? What did he do to deserve this?

He came up short, but surely he’d done something wrong, at least in their eyes?

Almost too afraid of the answer he would receive, Cardan decided to ask what he’d originally set out to ask Jude for, desperately hoping this was all in his head, “I simply thought I would request a few moments of your time, dear Jude,” he’d bit out against his growing hurt, “A walk around the gardens, perhaps? I find myself in sore need of a break. Surely you would like a moment to yourself as well?”

Jude hadn’t even looked up, “I’m fine but you can go. I’ll see you later.”

Right, then. It appeared his time had been wasted in pursuit of trying to spend it with those who obviously didn’t want his company.

Nodding once, Cardan turned as quickly and as gracefully as he could and all but ran from the room.

He ignored the stares he revived from servants and loitering courtiers alike as he fled to the safety of his chambers-of their chambers. Once inside, he slammed the doors shut and willed a few throned vines to grow tightly over them.

And without further fanfare, he flung himself onto the oversized bed and cried.

So yes. Cardan was sad. And lonely. He could only assume that his closest companions aversion to spending time with him stemmed from their joint displeasure with him. Though what they were displeased about was a horrible mystery to him.

Perhaps he just wasn’t interesting enough for them any longer. Maybe he had done something to elicit subtle anger from everyone-well, the council wasn’t very subtle in their feelings, but The Roach and his lovely Jude had mastered the art of silent seething- it could be that everyone was just tired of him, he did have the remarkable ability to drive people away very quickly. Even those loyal to him eventually found cause for abandoning him.

He cried a little harder.

Rather then further trying to puzzle out why everyone hated him that day, Cardan simply allowed himself the small luxury of just feeling. Just accepting the tears as they slipped down his cheeks. He found it was ok to be sad, so long as you had a sound reason.

He was a bit lost in his own sorrows-mainly trying to ward off harsh memories of a mother who never wanted him and didn’t bother to hide it- so he didn’t immediately notice when someone entered the room.

After the footsteps registered, it wasn’t hard to figure out just who had been able to get through those vines.

Jude frowned when she entered their chambers. She’d had trouble remembering Cardan’s demeanor when he’d attempted to…what had he been in her study for? She had been so caught up in correspondence that she’d failed to really register what he had wanted. She’d figured if he hadn’t pressed the matter then it must not have been that important.

That pretense flew out the window when she reached the chamber doors.

They were bolted shut from the inside. It’d taken her a few moments and the use of her power-which she was still learning to use in its full capacity- to realize that the object blocking the doors was a thick group of thorny vines. She willed them to wither and made her way inside.

Pointless to say, she was slightly stunned when she heard sniffling coming from their bed. Was…was her husband crying?

Despite it not being very loud, nor dramatic-which was concerning, as drama was his go-to emotion- the sound tugged at something in her chest. She found herself hurting for her love, even though she’d had yet to find what ailed him.

She was about to ask-softly and sweetly because he was upset enough to be weeping- what was wrong when she caught herself.

She remembered his question. The way he’d asked her to take a break with him. It was as if the sound of him breaking down slapped the memory back into her.

He’d sounded agitated, upset, even. And didn’t he usually latch onto her as a way of greeting? He hadn’t- …yes. Yes he had. He’d reached out for her and she’d absentmindedly brushed him away, focused on her work as she was.

And, when trying to figure out why else he would be moved to tears-surely her unintentional rejection alone hadn’t pushed him over the edge- she recalled The Roach offhandedly mentioning he’d had to cancel her husband’s sly-footing lesson that morning due to a personal matter. Cardan must have taken it the wrong way.

Randalin had also stopped her in the hall, snidely commenting that her presence at the council meeting had been missed. Cardan hated those things on a good day.

She was an idiot. Her husband had been having a rough day and she’d ignored him in favor of work. Normally he would be fine with that-he always told her he adored the way she got lost in ruling the kingdom now and again- but he’d obviously been upset from the very start of the day.

Jude wasn’t one to coddle, normally. But the High King so rarely showed his vulnerability like this. And the fact that there wasn’t a single flask of alcohol in sight proved how serious this was. It may have not seemed big, but his feelings were valid, at least to her.

A sigh escaped her as she quickly made her way over to her husband. His eyes were open but staring blankly at the wall. A pillow-hers, she noted- was tucked in the crook of his arm, hiding half his face since he was laying on his stomach. Tears streaked his cheeks and dampened her pillow.

She said nothing, knowing words wouldn’t fix this. Mortals could lie, and if he was this down, he’d surely believe anything that came out of her mouth was nothing but false. Actions would have to speak for her.

She leaned over and kissed his bare shoulder. Her fingers found their way into his hair and she gently tugged at his curls when he buried his face in the pillow.

I’m sorry. She hoped the potency of that one thought seeped into his skin where her lips touched, hoped he could feel her asking for forgiveness for making him feel like this. Long past were the days where they derived any sort of pleasure for hurting each other emotionally. Now, any pain one felt was shared with the other, in sync and in love as they were.

Silently she slipped into the bed with him and wrapped her arms securely around him, leaving no room for doubt about how badly she wanted to be near him.

He shuddered, silent cries still wracking his body, and burrowed closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her chest. His tail wrapped tightly around her calf. Her shirt was wet in seconds. That was ok though, because her face was wet with her own tears.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. And she desperately hoped he knew that, could sense her regret for neglecting him when he was obviously going through a tough time.

After a moment, his tears finally subsided. And Jude spoke before he had the chance to feel embarrassed or ridiculous about showing a normal emotion. Placing a kiss to his head she whispered,

“We can go on that walk now”.

His only response was to pull her closer.

Might do a part two where Jude knows from the beggining that he’s upset and we get a bit more insight to how they spend their time together while they are just comforting each other. As always, let me know what you guys think ❤️

Tag-list: (please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list and I’ll be happy to add you🥰)

@maleckanejnessianjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed

❤️

[hesesols]

Into the WILD

Day 16 of Ichiruki month 2020

Trapped inside fantasy MMORPG. Send help please?

Rating: T

FF/ao3

.

The first thing that strikes him as odd is that the ground underneath him is dewy soft. Not that the carpet in his tiny student accommodation isn't soft. It just isn't as soft by comparison and doesn't smell so strongly of grass and urgh- he hates pollen with a vengeance.

It makes his nose itch like mad and –

Wait!

Last time he checked summer was already over and the northern hemisphere was entering early autumn.

.

Brown eyes open in alarm.

The sun is in his eyes as he sits up and he's lying in a sea of golden tulips and ruby red camellias, blades of grass and crushed flowers under his fingertips.

He isn't alone.

There are others next to him. Each one garbed in unusual medieval clothing- intimidating-looking armours with spikes and brightly-coloured capes, fur-trimmings and equally garish-looking armbands; brandishing weapons that range from claymores to wooden staffs. Everyone seems to be in more or less the same state of disbelief and wide-eyed amazement at their new surroundings.

Where are they?

And holy shit! Is that a real-life armoured bear?

.

"You look like you could use a hand there, Kurosaki."

"Ishida?"

Ishida or at least who he assumes to be Ishida- his annoying cousin of sorts and fellow guild member- stands in front of him, offering an outstretched hand. Ichigo recognizes the voice but those pointy ears, the gleaming ivory bow that stands at a grown man's height and strange cleric-like clothing- those are definitely new. He grabs hold of it and pulls himself up, wiping at the grass stains with a fierce scowl before turning to the strange elf-like creature.

"What are you wearing?

Uryuu snorts, "I could ask you the very same question, Kurosaki."

Ichigo glances at the midnight black armour he has on- light weight, extra resistance to magic and +25% endurance to all physical attacks- wait, where did that come from?- the reassuring weight of Zangetsu in his hands-

He blinks.

.

Name: Zangetsu. Also known as: Sword of the Moon, Cursed Fang. Status: Legendary. Raid item from the Sacking of the Gollum King's Palace at Hueco Mundo. The mythical black blade forged by the Grandmaster Yhwach over the Fires of Sokyouku for a full year and a half in preparation for the Conquest of the Soul King's Throne (see also Conquest of the Soul King's Throne). Grants the wielder—

.

Reeling from the surprise, he falls flat on the grass.

How the hell did that just happen? How did all those words and background information just pop into his head unprompted? Almost like they're in a fantasy RPG gam—

"What's going on?"

Uryuu's smile is grim and sardonic, sliding the half-moon glasses up the bridge of his nose before he tells him, "Don't freak out but I think we're inside the game."

.

.

.

"Anything?"

Uryuu shakes his head.

Ichigo sighs. The lines of communication are down and no one has been able to log back out into the real world since they first entered.

"This doesn't make any sense at all!"

10,000 WILD players across the world and different servers who were online and active at precisely 12 midnight that day somehow found themselves transported into the game world and trapped there as their game character persona.

They're calling it the Lockdown.

No one has a clue as to why they were the only people affected, nor do they know how they came to. One minute they were logged in, playing the game as usual; the next thing they know they're lying flat on their asses in this strange new world strongly reminiscent of the game world of WILD, as their respective game characters.

He's one of the lucky ones he thinks. As a human Swords Master, there isn't much alteration to him besides the clothes and the muscle bulk added to his physique, unlike Chad who woke up as a bear armed to the teeth with a war axe and metal gauntlets. It wouldn't have been a pleasant wake up call for anyone, much less someone who wakes up trapped inside a fantasy MMORPG.

"What about Keigo then? Have you managed to locate him yet?"

Uryuu's eyebrow twitches. The pale blue glow from his hand falters for a fraction of a second when his attention shifts to shoot his guild leader a nasty glare.

Ichigo growls before mumbling out an apology to the raven-haired Cleric. He knows of course that Uryuu is trying his best and really in a strange new world that seems equal parts deadly and fascinating, the best is all they can do.

He's just … frustrated over the lack of answers and to make matters worse, one of their own still remains unaccounted for. Out of all the guild members who decided to switch servers during the Lockdown, it just had to be Keigo- scatterbrain extraordinaire. He wouldn't trust Keigo not to get sold on some crazy-ass get-rich-quick scheme in the real world, let alone in this virtual reality full of bloodthirsty monsters just waiting to make a nice dinner out of unsuspecting players.

The double doors to his studies are suddenly pushed apart, jolting him out of his thoughts. Orihime stumbles in barefooted and narrowly avoids tripping over the trail of her druidic dress robes in her excitement. Her cheeks are flushed and the pretty flowers in her flower crown bloom and blossom in magnificent shades of pinks and violets as she makes her announcement.

"Kurosaki-kun! I have his location!"

Ichigo jumps to his feet.

.

Finally!

.

It's the first piece of good news he's had since he found himself stranded here with the rest of his guild members.

"So where is the idiot then?"

Behind her, trails Tatsuki- their resident cynic and Shield Maiden who purses her lips and informs both him and Uryuu rather miserably, "You're not going to like this. He's in the Forest."

Ichigo resists the urge to face-palm as he sees Uryuu rubbing at his temple.

"Keigo must have been on his way back to HQ and decided to take the shorter route," Uryuu rationalizes things- as the team tactician he excels at it, "he couldn't possibly have known."

That's right. Keigo couldn't possibly have known that he would get sucked into the game and be left standing in place of his game character.

Tatsuki gives a derisive snort, "Doesn't make a difference. A level 25 Bard like him can't possibly survive the Forest of Hueco Mundo alone. He's going to get himself killed. The Forest is no man's land- level 70+ Hollows and player killers aren't warded out."

All eyes turn to their orange-haired team leader.

"What do you want us to do?"

Call it instincts but Ichigo has a nasty suspicion that player death in their new world would also mean certain death in the real world. The thought makes him nauseous and for obvious reasons, he isn't too keen on testing out the theory himself.

Keigo may be a pain-in-the-neck and downright insufferable at times but damn it! He's one of them. He's their pain-in-the-neck and they can't just leave him there.

In the real world, Ichigo Kurosaki may be just an ordinary university student bogged down by studies but here in WILD, he's a guild leader, it's his job to look after his guild members and he pledges to make sure that every single one of them makes it back home to the real world in one piece.

Ichigo heaves a loud weary sigh, grabbing the sleek black katana by his side.

"Let's go get our idiot back!"

.

.

.

"I told you we should have gone left instead of right!"

Tatsuki can feel her skull throbbing. She should have just stayed behind with Chad and Orihime.

"Stop yelling at me! It's not my bloody fault that you're so fucking incompetent that you couldn't get a better map!"

"Oh so I'm the incompetent one?! Never mind I was the one who organized the rations! We would have starved to death days ago if I hadn't triple checked our provisions!"

Tatsuki grimaces as the feel of exhaustion creeps in as does the unbearable chaffing on her thighs. It wasn't just the lines of communications that were shut off with the Lockdown. It turns out the Portals- their main means of transport have also been disrupted and that means that the full distance between Karakura and the Forest had to be covered by good old-fashioned horse-riding.

They've been riding nonstop since they left Karakura, trading horses with NPCs in the farmlands nearby to push ahead at a gruelling pace and rescue Keigo as soon as possible. It is a noble cause but the trade-off for the weeks' long worth of hard-riding leaves the three riders surly and sullen. This virtual reality that they're trapped in certainly feels real enough, right down to hunger pangs and sore muscles.

Chaffed thighs, bland food, little sleep and the heat (the sheer humidity was making her hair frizz) made for horrible traveling condition and it seems that both Ichigo and Uryuu are about to hit their respective boiling points.

She rolls her eyes, tugging at her horse's rein to halt.

"Both of you need to shut up before –"

A sudden rustling in the bushes nearby draws their collective attention and sure enough from the depth of the overgrown bushes, a Hollow emerges. This one seems more reptilian in features, flickering pink tongue and all. Something jumps at the back of her mind but Tatsuki ignores it.

The Guide is nothing more than a useless collection of WILD lore and trivia.

She doesn't need a lecture on Hollow classes and their special attacks to know that the only good Hollow is a dead one.

With a loud battle war cry, she unsheathes her blade and leads the charge, throwing herself against the beast.

.

.

Ichigo leaps through the dense foliage with Zangetsu drawn and bloodied in his hand. Despite Tatsuki's misgivings about his foolhardy plans and recklessness, the woman is just as bad with her own brand of battle lust, leading the charge like a crazy berserker.

All hell literally broke loose the second they stormed through the clearing. The sheer number of the Hollow horde overwhelmed them and forced them to break formation and the three of them took off in different directions in a bid to divide the remaining Hollows' attention.

He ducks behind a tree to catch his breath. Having lost sight of both Uryuu and Tatsuki during their retreat, he is in a sour mood and more than a little embarrassed that a level 98 Swordsmaster like him is being forced back by a horde of weakling Hollows in level 50s.

"Psst. Ichigo."

Ichigo grips Zangetsu tightly, eyes nervously darting at his surroundings. He could have sworn that he heard Keigo's voice. Well it's either that or he's officially losing his mind.

"Over here."

A head pops out from the bushes next to him and Ichigo reacts accordingly- nearly slicing the newcomer's head clean off his shoulder and Keigo almost becomes a casualty of friendly fire before Ichigo sees through the heavy layer of disguise and stops the blade mid-swing.

"Keigo?"

The bard is barely recognizable with his slashed and dirtied tunic, patches of dirt and dried leaves covering his face.

"The fuck you doing- sneaking up on me like that! I could have killed you!"

Keigo couldn't have cared less. With a loud wail and snot running down his face, he throws himself at his saviour and professes his undying gratitude in between hiccups and tears.

"ICHIGO! I knew you would come for me! I never doubted for a second!"

"Get off me! You stink!"

The happy reunion doesn't last as the roar of a Hollow and heavy footsteps of a lumbering giant still their movements. Ichigo pushes Keigo away from him and readies his blade, but even his quick reflexes are no match for the suddenness of the attack.

"ICHIGO!"

The Hollow's swipe knocks the air right out of him and sends him flying. The tree trunk of a young sapling snaps in half as his back connects painfully with it. The pain disorients him and he is enough of a doctor's son to recognize the signs of concussion. Also, he thinks he might have cracked a rib (or two) as fresh blood- metallic in taste gurgles past his throat.

His vision clears in time for him to see the Hollow- a Dragon class one with beady yellow, thick, iridescent scales covering its front and gigantic wings sprouted at his back, rearing up for another charge.

This time at Keigo, who is down on his knees- eyes wide with fear as he scrambles to get away from the advancing Hollow.

There's no time to think. Ichigo pushes everything he has- the very last spurt of HP and MP within him towards Keigo, taking his place before the monster with gapping mouth, awaiting certain death to come.

.

.

"Out of the way!"

His eyes snap open just in time to see a small lithe figure, sunlight reflecting off the bone white armour- so bright that he squints, leaping through air and landing gracefully on the Hollow's back. A glint of light flashes yet again and before his very eyes, one of the Hollow's tattered wings is cut off, an arc of blood spurts high into the air and the Hollow's roar of anguish follows.

"Are you deaf or stupid? Get out of the way!"

Ichigo doesn't hesitate. With Keigo tucked under his arm, he pushes past the pain and sprints for the clearing.

With them gone, the mysterious stranger makes quick work of the beast, easily dismantling its other wing before diving for the kill; sinking the white blade somewhere between the soft scruff, flabs of excess skin free from the scaly armour.

Ichigo watches in silence as the dying monster screeches in pain, a swan's song in roars of fury before it topples over with dead eyes, a fine cloud of dust from where its body fell.

With the urgency of the situation gone, he focuses on the newcomer. Sheathing Zangetsu as it becomes apparent from the markings and sigil on the stranger's shield and helmet that he is a Paladin, one dedicated to the path of the light. They're in safe hands- for now at least.

"Where did you come from?"

The Paladin regards him oddly.

"What do you mean?"

.

"Princess!"

Half a dozen of swords are suddenly drawn and held under their throats by what seems to be a band of armed knights. Their armours gleam with the same bone-white shine and the leader of the men- a tall redhead with inked markings across his forehead approaches them with a fierce scowl and the intent to kill.

Next to him, Keigo yelps.

"The fuck!" Ichigo curses. His chest hurts, he's barely standing on his feet and now this?

Can this day get any worse?

.

"Watch your mouth, you punk!" The redhead growls threateningly, "You're in the presence of the Princess."

Amber eyes narrow. Did they think he's stupid? There's no one vaguely even female in their company unless—

The Paladin removes his helmet and a cascade of black hair- dark as the night pours forth. Apple cheeks, soft petal lips and elfin features curtailed somewhat by the iciness of her stare and her unsmiling face.

Their eyes meet.

.

Oh!

.

The short stature suddenly makes so much sense. Ichigo gulps.

"They're Heroes, Renji."

Renji scowls and gives them a dirty look.

Ichigo's eyebrows knot in confusion. "Hang on- what do you mean by Heroes and how are you a princess? Royalty isn't a job class and Paladins don't call themselves Princesses. I don't care what level you are, that's not allowed by the game admins."

The smile on the woman's face- Ichigo doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he's about to be made into a fool of epic proportions, especially when she pushes past her armed guards and tilts his face up by the chin with the tip of her white blade.

Smirking with dark violet eyes gleaming, she tells him, "That's because I'm not a Hero. Look closer."

Sure enough- when Ichigo focuses his gaze at her, her presence is shrouded in golden aura. The Guide pings- very belatedly and most unhelpfully, he might add.

.

Name: HRH Princess Rukia of the noble house of the Kuchiki, heir apparent to the throne of Seireitei. Status: NPC

.

He bites his tongue.

"B-But- but NPCs aren't sentient," Keigo blurts out.

Ichigo turns just in time to see him give out a pained yelp, being pummelled by the angry redhead, "Oh I'll show you how non-sentient my fists are!"

He winces. That looks like it would hurt… a lot. But Keigo's an idiot with thick skin, he'll live.

Rukia- her name rolls off his tongue easily. He refuses to even entertain the idea of addressing her by her royal title. For starters, a princess isn't supposed to be a Paladin, or know how to fight or use a sword, or look this good while having him at her mercy.

He gulps when violet eyes narrow at him.

"And you? Do you think that NPCs are non-sentient beings too?"

Ichigo is a fast learner and gives a quick shake of his head.

"Good-" her lips curve into a smile, hair dipping low to tease at the contours of his face as she whispers into his ear- "Because this NPC just saved your life. I'll show you just how deadly I am with my sword before you dismiss me as just another background token NPC."

The sword tip leaves his neck.

"Now, hold still."

That's all the warning he gets before a green glow is emitted from her hands- smelling faintly of mint and something fresh he can't quite name. He shuts his eyes, letting the healing magic wash over him, knitting most of his superficial cuts and wounds back into place.

When the light fades, his chest still hurts but at the very least he feels a little less light-headed and breathes a little easier despite the pain.

He wants to thank her- both for her healing and her timely rescue from the Hollow but she refuses to meet his eyes.

"Renji," she barks at her captain of guards who immediately stands to attention.

"Take them with us. He needs a proper healer. I can't set his broken ribs."

"It's Ichigo!" he calls out, interrupting their conversation and earning himself a hard glare from Renji but Rukia's gaze is almost thoughtful.

"Can you still ride, Ichigo?"

He nods.

A horse is brought to him under Rukia's instructions and as soon as he is properly mounted with Keigo seated behind him, the woman sounds the horn, black hair unbound and flailing in the wind as she leads the company into a gallop.

"To Seireitei!"

.

.

FF/ao3

Review, like, comment or reblog to send some love my way pretties~~~

I have a thing for fantasy AUs. Can’t you tell? Click on link for rec list of some off-main Isekai/Game animes. I have a special place in my heart for them.

[saidelia-draconis]

♚ - a memory of something paranormal

  The morning sun was still. The air held a suspenseful hush about it. All that could be heard were the clanking of boots as they tamped down the hard-packed snow. Each step another crunch. Saidelia’s thick, fur boots were a soft plod next to the cacophony of the knights and soldiers she walked with. The chain coat she wore felt heavy. She had still not gotten used to it. As the group walked, the raven-haired knight cast a quick glance down to her.

“First mission. Fucking something, ain’t it. You good, kid?”

  Saidelia nodded, a toothy grin being her response. She clutched the pack of torches she had been trusted with close to her chest. Her ward gave her a clap on the back as they approached the dark and foreboding crypt. The great mausoleum stood solemn and quiet. Its confines hidden by a curtain of darkness. From the mouth, it was littered with bones. Human bones. Saidelia paled as she took notice. Syler gripped her shoulder, squeezing gently. His eyes softened as she glanced up at him. He regarded her with a knowing gaze.

“I know. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re right. This is terrifying. Crypt duty is the worst work you can get up here, but I know you’re ready for it. So, let’s go over the plan.”

  The man stopped at the entrance, kicking a skull out of the way to lay a map in the road. The group of four dropped down to study it. Saidelia peered nervously over his shoulder. Syler’s finger tapped the entrance.

“Okay. From what I can tell, we’re right here. We’ve got me, Tarkin, Jilba, and the kid.”

  His fingers trailed through the blueprint, making a circle. His eyes met with each of the group in turn, making sure that his route was understood. Each of them nodded in turn. Saidelia’s hands shook as she silently acknowledged.

“I’ll take point with the kid. Tarkin is our rear guard, Jilba - and only Jilba -  handles explosives. If I’m down, Tarkin is in charge of our retreat. At which point, the kid is in front with her. I’ve marked down where charges are planted, and Jilba knows where to set them up. Any questions?”

  The group collectively shook their heads. It seemed as though they were clear.

“Right. We’re quiet, but not silent. Any point in time, if I say it’s time to pull back, we all hurry things up and Tarkin leads us out. Let’s get after it.”

The four silently stood. Saidelia watched as they lined up in the formation that had been agreed upon. The dwarf at the back gave her a clap on the shoulder, urging her into place behind her mentor. She placed a hand on her shoulder, Jilba’s small hand looping into her belt as the group formed a chain. Syler lead with the three in tow, past the dark maw of the tomb.

  He nudged Saidelia, prompting her to light a torch for him. As he waved it through cobwebs, Saidelia passed a second torch back to Tarkin. The second paladin thanked her with a muted grunt of acknowledgement. The halls were cramped, labyrinthine, and lined with aged sarcophagi, most of which were cracked open. Which only seemed to further unnerve the group. Their leader stopped suddenly, drawing his weapon at the crest of one of the halls, checking his map in the dim light. He was swiftly granted another torch as Saidelia leaned up to slot his old one into a nearby sconce. The flickering lights were their only retreat from the enveloping darkness and back to the cold winter air.

  The man at the vanguard peered warily at a skeletal arm half-emerged from one of the slabs of stone. Taking no chances, he swatted at the arm. The brittle, desiccated bones snapped, sending the hand hurtling to the ground, shattering uselessly. The tomb did not stir. The air felt as tense as it was quiet. Finally, he shook his head, feeling no danger near them.

“Jilba. We should be at the first section. Set up one of your bombs.”

“Technically they’re--”

“Bombs Jilba. If it’s big, full of powder, and goes boom, it’s a bomb.”

“There’s no powder in these, actually, they’re really very fasci--”

“You know goblins ask less questions when you ask them to blow something up, right?”

  The shocked gnome gasped indignantly, fishing around in the shoulder sling that held her equipment. She knelt at an archway, muttering furiously to herself as she worked. The craft was intricate, and no doubt dangerous. Just watching it made Saidelia’s head spin. She could scarcely follow where the gnome’s delicate fingers moved, as though she were playing a piano with her wires. The whole time, she narrated in a voice, hardly audible to the group.

“Of all the... This-- THIS is what happens when you trust demolition tours to idiots with swords. Of all the positions. To think I’m wasted on work like this. This-- when there are tanks in the keep that I could be crewing.”

  She finally stepped back, pointing to the explosive charge at the base of the arch, staring haughtily up at the knight. For emphasis, she waved at the charge that blinked red every so often. The knight smiled a toothy grin, nodding down at her.

“Thank you, Jilba. When we’re done here, you can explain the difference to us all if you so choose over a pint.”

  The insulted engineer said nothing, falling back in line with the rest. She sighed wearily, waving him off with a noncommittal ‘maybe.’ The group quietly continued their apprehensive advance deeper into the tombs.

  Saidelia had finished placing another torch in the wall when she heard an unearthly sound. It was almost beautiful in a way. A shrill, tortured cry that held grace and terror. It caused her blood to freeze. The hair on her neck stood. She glanced towards the group for reassurance, finding none. Syler and Tarkin raised their shields, leaving the poor girl to wonder. After what felt like hours, she spoke, voice wavering.

“Was... Was that a ghost?”

  The group regarded her quizzically. Tarkin censored a laugh with an unconvincing cough. Jilba held a look of curious suspicion. Syler’s face simply looked tired and disheartened. The man waved his sword around above his head fairly nonchalantly.

“Kid... Come on. We’re half-way up the ass of a skeleton pit in the Lich King’s back yard that we’re trying to blow up because it’s haunted. Do you think it was a ghost? We’ll be lucky if that’s all that’s waiting for us.”

  Saidelia seemed to realize the folly of her question almost immediately, feeling foolish. Her cheeks darkened as she followed after Syler. The three above her gracefully decided to disregard her question almost immediately after it was posed. Down towards the end of the next hallway, an eerie, baleful blue light shone, flickering like a flame. The quake of a foreign chant rattled off of the walls of the crypt. Syler motioned for the group to pause, continuing ahead on his own. He had hardly caught sight of the figure before he doubled back, pointing towards Tarkin and exchanging with her some silent command. She nodded dutifully, turning on her heel and beginning to lead the group back through the torch-lit pathway they had made.

  Not a single one of them stopped until they were greeted by the harsh sunlight. It stung Saidelia’s eyes and caused her to shield her vision with her forearm. When her eyes finally adjusted, she was left staring up at her ward, following the group back the way they came.

“Why are we leaving? We only set one charge. Don’t we have to finish? What was that light?”

“That light is exactly why we fucked off so quick. There’s a lich in there.”

“A lich? But isn’t it our job to deal with whatever was in the crypt, including the lich?”

“Kid, what is job number one?”

“Make it back home.”

“Precisely. There’s two of us, Jilba, and you. That thing could outnumber us with a flick of its wrist, and then we’re up to our elbows in skeletons, shades, ghouls, and whatever the fuck else it feels like burying us with. But at least you learned something today.”

“I did?”

“You’d damn well better have. What’d you learn?”

“...How to set up torches?”

“What? No. If you didn’t know how to set up torches before now, you definitely shouldn’t have come along. No, you learned when to back off and bring in support. You’ll join Tarkin and I for our report and then we’ll all celebrate a job well done. You did good today. I’m proud of you.”

(Thanks so much to @prettyklingon and @hazriels for the ask! It’s only a little late this time!)

[minsyal]

[Mutual Feelings Pt. 13, Revali x Reader]

Author’s Note: I ain’t sorry. 

Summary: Who knows? We can only go up from here, right?

“No.” You called out to whoever was knocking. The knocking persisted despite you barricading the door with stacks of books and unused chairs that had been left in the hall days prior. Ink dribbled across your desk, large blobs of black liquid obscured your old workpapers that were now crumbled and torn. They didn’t matter anymore.

The old book given to you laid open on the board in front of you. Its pages were tattered and picked at, ripping slightly at every seam and corner. It had to be in here somewhere. Keumi had passed a few weeks ago and you hadn’t bothered to return to the Village as facing Seoi was something you had no desire to do. The least you could do for her was stay away. Afterall, that is what she wanted.

“Open up!” It was a male’s voice, Revali. He had been visiting often after the incident. The majority of the time, he was already on the grounds for Champion-related events and had found your room at the direction of a few gossiping maids. The talk had taken an upward spike in the castle after your return. Very few would stop you, but those that would always asked about your relations to Revali. It wasn’t any of their business. Plus, nothing was official. Nothing was going on.

“No.” You repeated with the same monotone sound.

“Then I’ll break the door down.” The door began shaking, almost comically. The hinges creaked and squeaked as the handle juggled this way and that as the assailant attempted to grant himself entrance. The nob turned and stopped, then turned the other direction. “Excuse me?” He must be speaking to someone outside. His voice became muffled as you assumed he walked away, possibly giving up. You should have known him better than that by now.

You traced the map in front of you, a small line linking your route in the desert to the other locations of materials you gathered for the elixir. Everything had been done exactly to the “t” as per the book’s instructions. How could it have gone so horribly wrong? You had been trying to contact this supposed “medicine man,” but each and every Zora you spoke to couldn’t identify where he resided nor where he was currently. The bowl the elixir had been made in was encased in glass in the corner of your room. The cage you used in the desert was next to it. Maybe you had miscalculated something there? Perhaps the material used to encase the flower was incorrect… or maybe there wasn’t enough water flow.

Shaking your leg at a swift pace, you studied the excess materials. The minerals were all fine, they were typical ones used in medicine. The greenery was fresh when used, now dried and pinned to the wall. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut to ward off the third headache of the day. It wasn’t even lunch yet, just past breakfast in fact.

“I hope you don’t me letting myself in.” Revali stepped through your window, a gust of wind swirling the loose papers around the room.

“Revali!” You rose to your feet, jumping to grasp every paper. He paid no mind, trotting over to the unmade bed where he sat down and crossed one leg over the other. His eyes scanned the room, he had never been in here before. Your desk was a mess, stacked high with new books and papers while older ones were stacked in front of the door. The bed he was sat on was inlaid into the wall, a few trinkets were posted and sat on shelves. He noticed the drawing of him you had done around the time the two of you first met, the extensive studies on the Divine Beasts, and the group photo you had been left out of at the time.

“Good to see you too.” He chuckled, making himself comfortable. “When did you last sleep?”

Too homed in on your work, you brushed him off.

“When did you last eat?” Persisting, he kicked one leg over the other and continued ruffling up your blankets. “When are you going to answer your lover?”

Eyes wide, you shot him a confused look only to get a proud one in return. He gave you a tight-lipped grin, closing his eyes. “We aren’t together.”

“The castle gossip travels fast. According to everyone out there, we are.”

“Well, we aren’t.” You turned back around and focused on a small passage hand-written in the book.

“Whatever you say, but that’s not my opinion on it.” He hummed. “Clear this out from your door while I’m away. I’ll be back.” He motioned to the junk near the door. Kicking some stuff from his path, he pried the door open and left.

While there is currently no evidence of the ability for revival from death, it has been recorded in legend regarding the Goddess Hylia and the Hero. Given this knowledge, there is chance that this phenomena is existent in Hyrule. Mouthing the words as you read, you groaned. There was nothing telling  you what to do. You had been attempting to find a way to bring her back since you got back to the castle after her death. Nothing was turning up.

The attacks on travelers and villages rose as the Calamity’s power grew. Red ash would rise from the ground some nights, the clouds would rush as if in a hurricane, and low growls could be heard echoing from the castle’s depths. The moon would turn blood red on nights like these. Nobody would go out.

Another ceremony was scheduled for tonight, but you had no intent of attending. The King had never required you be present for any of them, only present when he needed updated information on how the scientist’s research was coming. You hadn’t heard from Purah or Robbie in a few weeks. It was hard to when they didn’t live on castle grounds.

The book turned up no trails to follow, no leads to take. Tossing it aside, you scrapped everything on your desk relating to Keumi. It was over. She wasn’t coming back. Throwing your window open, you let the cool air flow in and swirl around the cramped room. Laughter resonated from the upper levels; the stomping of feet signaled they had just begun their celebrations. The rich aromas of mouth-watering dishes were swept through the air, a sweet smell blanketing the area.

With a renewed sense of direction, you grabbed everything you had relating to your updates on the Divine Beasts. Opening the book you kept on Medoh, you began writing. In the margin, you wrote: Resurrection = possibility?

Revali wandered the halls as he attempted to recall his way to your room through the maze of sprawling entryways. He passed kitchen staff carrying platters of steaming-hot foods. Snatching a plate from one of them, he continued on his way. Finally arriving at his destination, he tried the door. To his surprise, it gave way with ease.

“Still buried in work, I see.” He looked more put together than he typically did. A new garb was wrapped around his figure, dawning the blue color of royalty and the crest. His old one was hidden beneath it. It was far gaudier than his original. Gold speckled the trim, thin silver chains were attached to shoulder pieces, and his braids were done differently.

“Here.” The plate clacked against the wood of your desk. “Now, I need to get this off. It’s rather…” he racked his head for the words he wanted, “not me.”

Metal clinks rained down upon the room as his shoulder pieces and the new garb landed in a pile along with your discarded work. A plate clanked against your desk, its smell alluring. Tearing your focus from your papers, you eyed the plate. It was steaming. A perfectly grilled pork steak sat on wild greens with a side of rice from Hateno. The smaller plate held a slice of decadently rich chocolate cake that looked to have been prepared just minutes ago. Caramelized sugar dripped over the sides, gliding down to the chocolate shell below.

“Would you mind undoing these?” His braids whipped around in your face as he turned his back to you. “I would, but I don’t want to.” He continued speaking as you moved to detangle the intricate designs. “You know, the ceremony was as dull as ever. I had searched the crowd for you, but I suppose expecting you to breach these walls was rather idiotic of me.” He tossed his head to the side, eyeing you. “Have you had enough tea lately? Have your teeth gone yellow yet?” When you didn’t respond, he continued on. “I do really think you need to rest more. Your lack of sleep is troublesome.”

“I’m fine.” You finished the last braid, leaving the ribbon strewn into it on the floor.

“You’re not. You need sleep…” he pondered for a moment, taking a deep breath before stating, “Keumi would want that.”

The beating of your heart thrummed in your chest loudly. Your breathing stopped, catching in your throat, suffocating you. A cold sweat broke out upon your brow and at the nape of your neck. Your determination turned to anger as you pushed yourself up to your desk, turning your back on Revali. “Don’t talk about her.”

“It’s what she would have wanted, and you know that.” He approached the back of your chair, the heat radiating from his body only adding to how uncomfortable you had become. Your leg bounced up and down as you attempted to work out the tension that grew within you. It felt as if vines were climbing up your spine.

“Revali, stop.”

“No.” A firm grip held your shoulder as he attempted to tug you around to face him. “Face me and listen. She didn’t die so you could sulk around here all day.”

You had enough. Pushing up from your chair, you disregarded it as it went tumbling to the floor. “Shut up!” More than anything you wanted to slap him. You wanted him to go away and never come back. Why was he here anyway? What did he really care?

“You need to listen to me. Quit acting like a child. That will get you nowhere.”

“She wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t tried something so risky!” You jerked your shoulder away from his grasp and immediately began gathering a few notebooks in your arms.

“You did what you had to!” He said firmly, stepping to block your exit.

“I did something stupid and I ruined a family.” You choked back the tears that were brimming your eyes. “They’ll never get that back, Revali. It’s all my fault.” You had grown considerably quiet, almost whispering.

“It’s not.” His tone had weakened a bit, his stance was softer. “Come here.”

Crashing into his arms was more comforting than you had expected. He rubbed circles into your back as he walked the two of you over to the bed. “We’re going to fix this.”

“How?” Your words were muffled by his thick coat.

___________________________________________________________ 

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice called as the door creaked open. Revali’s head rose from his spot on the bed.

“Yes?” He called back, keeping his tone hushed. A gentle wing covered your head, stroking your hair down. The motion coaxed soft snores from you and put a loving smile on his face.

“The King requests your presence in the dining hall, sir.”

“Give the King my deepest apologies, but I have to decline.” A moment passed as the guard pondered what to do. He was taken aback by Revali’s answer, expecting him to join him in an instant.

“Of course.”

The door closed as a hushed silence fell upon the room once more. It had grown dark in the castle, the only light in your room came from the candles that threatened to extinguish themselves in the melted wax below. The papers remained scattered across the floor along with the chair that was still overturned. The meal he had brought had grown cold, hardening with each passing hour. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was what lay softly upon his chest, breathing deeply as exhaustion finally gave in. What mattered was the little moments that prospered from your twisted and tangled history. What mattered was the way Revali’s chest swelled when he thought of you and how his heart grew as he finally admit something to himself. It was true.

[bloodiedskirtts]

The Safest Way To Go | Part One: If I stand in front of a speeding car

Summary: Bucky Barnes finds out the hard way that he can’t stay friends with his ex.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sex, cheating

A/N: TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading. I hope you guys like it! Gif not mine, credit to owner.

Safest Way To Go Masterlist

‘We can’t keep doing this,’ she sighed, as she rolled onto her back her eyes scanning the ceiling of Bucky’s bedroom.

He rubbed his hands over his face as he let out a sigh of his own. He didn’t want to look her right now. He knew that if he looked at the girl he had known his entire life that she would not be going anywhere. Their breakup had taken a toll on both of them, but they had said that they would still be friends. It had been Y/N and Bucky since before anyone could remember. And just because they couldn’t work as a couple, it didn’t mean they didn’t work as friends. It was the opposite in fact. They were best friends, they knew everything about each other. 

And they were roommates too, like they had been since the beginning of college. Just this year, they wouldn’t be sharing a room like the previous years. The problem was that they didn’t really need two separate bedrooms because most nights, they ended up falling asleep in the other person’s bed watching Netflix. And then a few drunken mistakes had led them to start their friends with benefits bullshit. Which they had said they would stop when they both started seeing other people.

Y/N had been asked out by one of the guys in her class, and for the first time she could say yes. She liked Grant Ward, she did but every night when Bucky would ask her watch a movie or re-runs of their favourite TV shows, she would eagerly agree. And more often then not they ended up making out or sleeping together. She had admitted to Nat and Sharon once that she had slept with Bucky after blowing off Grant. They asked her why she wouldn’t just get back with him. She bit her lip, taking a swig of her vodka and Coke, and admitted that things were better when they weren’t in a relationship.

Steve had almost choked on his beer when Bucky admitted to sleeping with her again. Even though he was casually, well casually in his mind, dating Wanda. He gave the same line, ‘Things are just better when we’re just friends who sometimes get drunk and have mind blowing sex.’ Steve shook his head, and tried to explain that Bucky and Y/N were literally in a relationship. They lived together, they did everything together and they had sex. Bucky snorted at that, ignoring the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind. 

He poked his best friend in the side as she lay naked beside him in his bed. 

‘You keep saying that, and I just wanted to watch The Office and you were the one who sucked my dick!’ he teased.

She laughed, throwing his pillow at him.

‘Alright, Buckaroo, fair,’ she snapped. ‘But I gotta get up and go to class. Can you please clean the kitchen?’

Bucky rolled his eyes, ‘We didn’t even finish the fucking episode!’

She laughed at him, shaking her head, rolling onto her side, she automatically threw her leg over his hip. His hand went to her hip and his blue eyes locked onto hers. She could feel his breath on her cheeks and she shivered slightly. However the spell was broken when her phone buzzed, she sighed. 

‘Gotta go!’ she gasped, pulling herself away from Bucky. 

———————————————————————————————————–

‘So why do you have a moon tattoo again?’ Grant asked as she sat beside him before class started.

Peggy laughed from the other side of Y/N as she looked at the crescent moon on her wrist.

‘Me and Bucky thought it would be a great idea to get matching tattoos when we were eighteen,’ she admitted, taking a sip of her smoothie.

‘You and your best friend have matching tattoos?’ he asked, his nose scrunching in confusion.

Okay, so she hadn’t been completely truthful with Grant when it came to Bucky. She hadn’t revealed that they had been a relationship for almost ten years, before they broke up for ‘good’ at the end of the summer. Before she could reply, Peggy butted in.

‘Yea, they’re massive Game of Thrones fans. So she got a moon and he has a sun on his fucking hand. Ya know like how Khalessi calls the horse king her sun and stars, and she’s the moon of his life,’ she said. 

‘Okay, Peggy,’ she laughed, ‘her name is Daenerys and he is Khal Drogo, not a horse king.’

The English woman just laughed but Grant was still looking at her in confusion.

‘Seems a bit romantic for just friends,’ he said frostily.

Thankfully, before she had to respond their professor walked in and started their lecture. Maybe she should just come clean about her history with Bucky but then he would ask why she was living with her ex. And she would say that he had no reason to worry. Except she was sitting in class, wearing Bucky’s t-shirt tucked into her denim shorts. And she had slept with him last night and she was sporting a matching set of bite marks on her boobs from his antics last night. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them because she and Grant weren’t at that stage of their relationship.

She bit her lip, what was their relationship exactly? They went out for coffee twice a week, texted sometimes and had class together. Sure they kissed, but they didn’t have heated make out sessions. She didn’t even think about having sex with him. She sighed softly as she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She couldn’t help but smile as she realised it was from Bucky - or as she had him saved in her phone ‘Bucky Bear’. He was asking if it was okay if Sam and Steve came over to watch the game tonight. 

She kept her phone under the table as she pretended to care about what her professor had to say.

Sure Buck. I’ll ask if the girls want to come over, we can make it a fam party x, she quickly replied.



‘Why didn’t you invite your new boyfriend?’ Sam teased as he ate a crisp from Y/N’s hand, as she sat on Steve’s legs, who was splayed out on the couch.

For some reason her eyes flicked to Bucky, before rolling her eyes at Sam.

‘Firstly, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just…ya know, we haven’t had that conversation, ya know. And secondly, Samuel, this is a family night so only family members,’ she replied, swatting him away, when he tried to grab more of her food.

She smiled at her friend group who were sprawled out around her apartment. Her, Bucky and Steve had all come to college in New York from their hometown, so at least they weren’t alone when they moved here. They all shared an apartment in their freshman year, and Y/N liked to take credit for Peggy and Steve’s relationship. Peggy and Y/N were taking the same major, they quickly became fast friends. She spent a lot of time in their apartment, and it was pretty obvious that they both were crushing on one another. And after several painful months, Y/N pushed Steve to kiss Peggy and as they say the rest was history.

They now lived across the hall from Bucky and Y/N, sharing their apartment with Sam. Sam transferred into Steve’s classes in second year and he immediately fitted into their friend group. He was a shameless flirt and Y/N loved him. And while they loved each other, Sam and Bucky could wind each other up like no other. While Sam arrived late to the group, it was like he was always there.

Another knock on the door, had Y/N jumping up and throwing her arms around Natasha and Sharon. Natasha was Peggy’s roommate and shared some classes with Bucky, he had invited her to one of their movie nights. While Sharon was Peggy’s cousin who she invited to the same movie night. Unlike the slow burn which was Peggy and Steve, Sharon and Nat immediately hit it off. Y/N had already called dibs on being Nat’s maid of honour in their not so future wedding.

‘Gangs all here!’ she called when the couple made their way into the apartment, pushing Steve’s legs off the couch so they could sit. 

‘Beers?’ she asked, ‘Buck can you help me with the food?’

Bucky smiled over to her, jumping up to go into the kitchen with her. She leaned against the counter, with him in front of her, his hand resting on her waist as they talked. 

Natasha shook her head, ‘Are they still pretending that they’re not in love?’

Steve bit his lip, ‘I think they’re both moving on. She’s with that guy from class and Bucky’s texting that girl from the coffee shop. Maybe it’s for the best, ya know, they are…’

But when he looked at the pair of them in kitchen, the way Bucky pushed her hair out of her face as they talked and how she leaned into him, he knew they were hopelessly in love with each other. They just didn’t want to admit it.

‘They are fucking idiots,’ he sighed, throwing his head back with a sigh.

‘It would be fine that they were broke up, but now they’ve decided to see other people,’ Sam added.

‘And they are still fuckin’,’ Sharon said, taking a slice of pizza.

Peggy choked on her wine, ‘Excuse me?’

‘Y/N said that she slept with him again when she was drunk a few weeks ago,’ Sharon explained.

Steve bit his lip, ‘Buck told me too. But he said it wasn’t a one time thing.’

Peggy opened her mouth but Bucky dropped even more food onto the rickety coffee table in front of them.

‘Are you feeding an army?’ Steve teased, as Y/N handed him a new beer.

‘Yes, I have you, Sammy and Bucky Bear to feed, AKA the bottomless pit gang,’ she teased right back, falling into Bucky’s lap without a second thought. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Sam tried to silence everyone as the match kicked off, Y/N took a swig of her wine, rolling her eyes.

‘Wait what’s happening?’ she asked, trying to keep up with what was going on on the screen.

‘I cannot believe you spent four years cheerleading and dating a footballer and you still have no idea how the game is played,’ Steve teased, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

She rolled her eyes, ‘First of all, I spent four years perfecting cheer routines and making sure that I was ready to perform in front of the whole school. And at national competitions. Sorry if I’m not concerned about why some idiots were running after a ball.’

All of the boys began to complain, Bucky even pushed her off his lap, as he protested his skills on the football field. She landed on the floor, spilling her wine over herself. 

‘Nice one, dumbass,’ she snapped at her best friend.

‘You have a whole room full of t-shirts you can change in to,’ he shrugged. ‘Dunno why you still insist on stealing mine! I am running short.’

‘If you did some washing then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation,’ she retorted.

Steve looked at Sam who was looking anywhere but at the two arguing people beside him. He knew that Bucky and Y/N fought all the time, but they couldn’t stay mad at one another. But he didn’t feel like listening to them argue again, and neither did anyone else in the room.

‘I wouldn’t be in this situation if you weren’t stealing them all. God, Y/N, you’re not my girlfriend anymore,’ he snapped.

She blinked at his words, she stood up, pulling the wine soaked shirt from her frame, not caring that there was other people in the room. She threw it at Bucky’s face before storming into her bedroom. He rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head.

‘She’s too fuckin’ touchy,’ he breathed out, Steve gave him a warning look, before returning to watching the football.

After a few minutes, Peggy sat beside Bucky, squeezing his knee.

‘Maybe you should go talk to her,’ she suggested.

He simply shook his head, ‘Not a fucking chance. That’s what she wants, she always does this. She’ll be-’

He was cut off when he looked up to see her coming out of her room in a dress that barely covered anything and a pair of heels that made her legs look insane. Bucky cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Sam wolf whistled at his friend.

‘Y/N, you better take your fine ass over here,’ he joked.

‘You wish, bird boy. I am going dancing, it’s been real guys,’ she waved as she went to leave.

‘All your friends are here! Who are you going with?’ Bucky asked, thankful his voice didn’t give out on him.

‘With Grant, dumbass,’ she snapped, grabbing her keys and popping them in her clutch. ‘Don’t wait up, Bucky Bear.’

With that she spun out the door, her heart thumping. She really didn’t want to go out dancing, she wanted to hang out with her friends. But Bucky’s words hurt her more than she’d care to admit. Even though she had no right to be mad, he was right. They weren’t together anymore and she wanted to prove that she was fine that he wasn’t her boyfriend.

And she was fine that she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore. That’s why she was dating Grant. That’s why she was going out dancing. That’s why she was still fucking Bucky. That’s why she couldn’t sleep with Grant. She shook her head, slipping into Grant’s car, slapping a fake smile on her face as she greeted him. She was fine.

TAG LIST OPEN

@nephalem67, @mia-at-work, @crybbysarahjane, @rainbowkisses31, @mcuimxgine, @rhiisnotawitch, @marvhellove, @myrabbitholetoneverland, @metalarmlover, @vogueworthy-barnes, @aurajitsu,@savemesteeb,  @drunkinthemiddleoftheday, @valeriae2903,  @marsnothere,  @valeriae2903,  @kayleeflower ,  @sophiatomlinson23 , @mcuimxgine , @randomstoriesofabunny ,@evolutionofkatep , @jessxxoxx , @anelaokalanii, @slender--spirit  , @the-craziestone, @writing-for-a-chance @lilypalmer1987 @justmesadgirl , @funkenniffler, @useless-creature-213, @sebatianstanisbae, @sexyvixen7, @hadesgirl1015, @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme, @wisestydia-15, @australianhorrorstory @learisa

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 8

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch.8 - Caroline Penvenen is a successful, capable doctor...and she also just might be an idiot.

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

~

“Killewarren has been in the Penvenen family since 1621, when Rafe Penvenen was granted the estate by King James I in recognition of his military service…” Caroline let the tour guide’s voice drift off, only vaguely registering the familiar words about how the house had survived the Civil War and Rafe’s son William had sheltered royalists behind its excellent defences…Eventually the voice disappeared as the tour group reached the end of the corridor where they would go down into the old kitchens and learn about the ancient range and how many servants the house once had.

By some miracle, the Penvenen family had managed to hold onto their ancestral home, but like almost every other country estate in the nowadays, it was open to the public. Caroline had got quite used to the visitors when she was a little girl, creeping up to the section of gallery which led into the private apartments and overlooked the great hall to peep down at them trooping through, gawping at the paintings and being told not to touch the antiques by the attendants. When she was a bit more grown up, and given free reign of the house, she’d even joined in with them on occasion, playing with the other children or taking a bit of naughty joy in clattering around in the old servant’s corridor upstairs when the guide told their group it was allegedly haunted.

It seemed like another world, growing up in a house like this, something she hadn’t properly realised until she went to university, where even some of her poshest fellow students couldn’t dream of such a thing. She’d found out to her surprise that the Trenwith Hotel a few miles away had once been the estate of the Poldark family, sold off by Francis and Verity’s great-grandparents after the Great War, and that Cardew, now some sort of religious retreat, had been built by George’s ancestors. The Warleggans, having made their money in banking, hadn’t gone bust, however, and instead moved into a jaw-dropping townhouse in Truro, where George’s mother and grandmother still lived. Even George and Elizabeth’s gorgeous place wasn’t a patch on it.

The introductory speech of another tour guide startled Caroline out of her reverie. How long had she been standing there, staring at the small semi-circular window high above the main entrance? Thankfully, she was mostly concealed from those in the hall, unless someone knew she was there. Again, she heard the words about how long the house had been in the family – but for how much longer? Aside from the cost and effort of managing the place, she was the last Penvenen. Once she inherited the house – and she prayed that would not be for a long time – it had nowhere to go after that. If she had children, it would still be in the family, she supposed, just without the Penvenen name.

Of course, she’d never thought much about having children, and considering the state of her private life, it didn’t look much likely in the immediate future. Here she was, moping unproductively about her Uncle’s house on her day off in the wake of yet another romantic disaster.

Romantic disaster? That was stretching it a bit. She could hardly call a few conversations, one date and one kiss – God, a really good kiss – a ‘romance’. It was barely even a dalliance, to use a word straight out of her aunt’s collection of old Mills & Boon novels.

At a gentle nudge to her ankle, she glanced down to find Horace snuffling at her leg. He plopped his fat bottom on the carpet and looked up at her expectantly, his whole body jiggling as he tried to wag his little stump of a tail while sitting down.

“What, then, my precious? Do you want a walk, hmm?” Horace was generally a lazy creature, his preferred leisure activity being lying on the most comfortable surface he could find – aside from eating, of course. However, he seemed to like Killewarren, the gardens being rather more interesting than the plain little park around the corner from Caroline’s flat. It meant mingling with the visitors, but that was all right – dogs were allowed in the gardens so she just looked like another day tripper.

After he’d made friends with an Alsatian at the water gardens, been petted by and starred in the selfies of three young American girls, and weed on a stone bench right next to a very unimpressed old lady, Caroline took Horace on a loop around the large gravel driveway-come-car-park. They were just on their way back, Horace puffing and snorting in that way which meant he’d had quite enough exercise for today – or this month – when there was a shout from up ahead.

“Help! Somebody call an ambulance!” Pausing to scoop up Horace, who snuffed in indignation, Caroline hurried toward the voice. Just by the entrance to the estate’s old chapel, a middle aged man was half-slumped against the stone wall, a woman about his age crouched next to him. Caroline dropped to her knees beside them, setting Horace on his feet as gently as possible. She was vaguely aware of him tottering off behind her, but she didn’t worry. He wouldn’t go far.

“What happened?” The woman looked at her, bewildered and panicked. Caroline took hold of her arm, trying to ground her, make her focus. “I’m a doctor. Tell me what happened.”

“He – he just collapsed. He said his chest hurt, but I just thought that was because we’d been walking all day.”

“Does he have any medical conditions?” Caroline took the man’s pulse – it was thready and weak, but it was there. He was sweaty and pale, and breathing heavily. His eyelids flickered but he seemed barely conscious.

“A mild heart murmur, but it’s never given him any problems before.”

“I’ve called an ambulance.” One of the tour guides appeared behind Caroline, holding a mobile phone.

“Are you still on the line?” The guide nodded and Caroline held out her hand for the phone. “Hello, this is Dr Caroline Penvenen. I’ve got a male, 50s, previous history of heart murmur, pulse weak, breathing difficulties and semi-conscious. What’s his name?”

“Oh.” It took the woman a moment to realise Caroline was addressing her. “Peter.”

“Peter? Peter, can you hear me?” A wheeze which may have been a response, and his eyelids flickered again. Caroline handed the phone back to the attendant. Another had joined her and Caroline turned to him. “Is there a first aid kit at the front desk? Does it have aspirin?”

“Er, yes.”

“Bring it, please.”

By the time the ambulance arrived, thankfully promptly, Caroline had put Peter in the recovery position. She hadn’t used in the aspirin in the end, partly because he was not quite conscious enough to take it, but also because she wasn’t entirely convinced he was having a heart attack.

The paramedics agreed, and indeed once they’d got him hooked up to the monitors in the rig, his heart rate seemed to be slightly improved. Peter’s wife – Julie – held tightly to his hand as Caroline and one of the medics worked to make sure he was stable. Caroline hadn’t dealt with anything close to an emergency – bar once giving a girl at a nightclub an epi pen – since her foundation training, but she found that adrenaline, well perhaps not quite adrenaline but something like it, had taken over.

“Where we headed?” The medic called up to the driver.

“ETA 10 mins. St Neot’s A&E.” 

~

The maternity ward was blessedly cool – and quiet – when Caroline pushed open the doors. Quiet moans emanated from one of the rooms, along with a gentle male voice – whether medic or unusually chilled out expectant father Caroline couldn’t say. A nurse popped up from behind the desk, startling her.

“Sorry! Oh, hello, Dr Penvenen. Are you wanting Elizabeth – Dr. Warleggan, I mean.”

“If she’s free.” She wasn’t really sure why she’d made her way up here, but she was feeling a bit off and instinct had taken her to her best friend.

“She is. Or, at least, I think she is. Her and Verity are out in the staff corridor, last I saw them. They’re taking a break.” Passing several more rooms, the sounds of voices –cursing, cooing, the cries of newborns – floating around inside, Caroline made her way to small, discreet door marked ‘Hospital Personnel Only’. When the nurse had said Elizabeth and Verity were in the corridor, she hadn’t been kidding. The two women sat on the floor, backs against the wall, legs extended in front of them. Caroline pushed aside a recollection of the scene she’d witnessed in the A&E corridor a few days earlier.

“Caroline! What are you doing here? I thought you were off today.” Elizabeth frowned, sipping her cheap vending machine tea.

“Oh, I was.” Caroline replied airily. “But what’s up with you two?”

“Two breech births this morning.” Verity replied. “Everyone okay, but both mums stressed out as Hell.”

“And then an overly-keen dad with an iPhone tripped me up and I fell in the birthing pool.” Elizabeth pursed her lips as Verity chuckled. Even in her odd mood, Caroline couldn’t help a grin at the thought of that. Now she looked, she could see Elizabeth’s hair was wet. “I hate water births.”

“Poor baby.” Caroline patted her on the shoulder as she sat down next to her. After all the morning’s excitement, she suddenly felt very drained. Elizabeth looked like she was about to say something when her phone trilled and she slipped it out of the top pocket of her scrubs. Her face took on a familiar affectionate expression as she read the message. “Oh, love’s young dream…”

“Oh, shush. George is just asking what I want him to make for dinner tonight.”

“Handsome, rich, a doctor, good dad and he can cook.” Verity shook her head. “The rest of us might as well just give up. Elizabeth’s won.”

“Stop it. Here, watch this.” Elizabeth fiddled with the screen for a moment and Caroline and Verity both leant in to look. The video began to play, blurred for a second as it zoomed in on Elizabeth, kneeling on the floor of what looked like her living room, holding Ursula up in front of her.

“Go on, go to Daddy. Go to Daddy.” She gently lifted her hands from under the baby’s arms, but kept them close by.

“Come on, Ursula, come to me. Come here.” George appeared at the far side of the frame, crouched down a couple of feet away, arms open in invitation. Slowly, Ursula took a wobbly step forward, then another, then another, Elizabeth keeping close behind her.

“Go on, Ursula, clever girl.” A third voice from behind the camera. Morwenna.

With the encouragement of her parents and her cousin, Ursula tottered the final couple of steps, to be scooped up in George’s arms, giggling delightedly at her achievement.

“Oh, she’s so cute! And she’s walking early!” Verity cooed.

“Earlier than Valentine, although it didn’t take him long to get going. He went straight from first steps to 100m sprint.” She laughed fondly, putting her phone away. The three of them sat quietly for a while, apart from Verity ‘yeuch’-ing at the dregs of her tea, before Elizabeth seemed to remember something. “Caro, you never told us why you’re here.”

“Oh, it’s a long story…” She explained about her visit to Killewarren, and Peter and Julie.

“Wow, it’s a good job you were there. Heart attack, was it?”

“No, angina, by the look of it. He was looking a lot better when I left, but they’ve sent him to the cardiac ward for proper tests to get to the bottom of it.”

“Well. Still. Angina might not be a heart attack, but it’s no laughing matter. You really did brilliantly.”

“Bet Dwight was impressed.” Verity teased. Caroline must have made a face, because the other two immediately frowned at her.

“What’s the matter?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Caroline attempted to affect a casual air, even though she knew they’d see through it. It was habit, and a difficult one to break. “I just think Dwight and I aren’t destined for anything.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, him cosying up to a cute nurse two days after our first date might have something to do with it.”

“Dwight?!” Verity shook her head. “No way. There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake. I saw it with my own two eyes.” She told them about going down to A&E after hearing about the scaffolding collapse, and seeing Dwight and Rosina in a close embrace on the floor of the corridor. It had been pure instinct which sent her down there, remembering the slightly haunted look she’d seen flicker over his light eyes when he spoke about his time with MSF, and his reaction to the stab victim the day she’d bumped into him in the coffee shop. Walking into the corridor, she’d stopped short, feeling stupid and presumptive and a dozen other things; so she’d done what she always did when confronted with difficult feelings – she’d walked away.

“So.” Verity frowned. “You’ve decided to call it a day with a very eligible man you clearly like very much…because you saw a colleague give him a quick hug after an extremely stressful shift?”

“Er…” Hearing it put like that, Caroline recalled the off-hand way she’d dealt with Dwight over admitting Peter, giving him purely the cold facts before striding away without so much as a by-your-leave. She looked at her friends, at their incredulous expressions, and fought the urge to put her head in her hands.      

[nekojitachan]

Please please please post us something ??? I miss your writing like an owner missing his beloved pet!! Anything you have or just bits of it. Please!!??????

Hmm, I’m really trying to get Heartlines ch5 done soon - I’m not sure it’ll be up for next Sunday, but maybe the following Wednesday? That said, here’s a little peek at the next part of The First Breath. It’s the start of the story (I’ll probably clean this up a little and expand upon it):

Eh… very brief mention of an abusive mother? Think that’s the only trigger here.

*******

It still amazed Andrew that he not only had his ownapartment to call ‘home’, a large loft with a freezer stocked with multiplepints of ice cream and a cabinet with liquor and the entire place warded tokeep out almost everyone, but that he shared the place with Neil. That when hereturned to a space that wasn’t just a building where he was staying for acertain amount of time but where he felt safe and content and had made it hisown, there was a gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile.

A gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile whilestretched out on their bed with two cats, with more cats curled up all throughtheir home.

All right, Andrew could accept that it was his life, allthings considered. Especially when he caught sight of King lying on hisfavorite black sweater, her grey hair now all over it. Yet before he couldbitch at the cat, Neil rose up in an obvious invitation for a kiss. “Thatdidn’t take long.”

Andrew settled for glaring at the cat, which of course ignoredhim, as he set aside the bag of hot chocolate mix which he’d ‘run’ out for inanticipation for the ‘family’ dinner before he leaned in to oblige his idiot.“No, Renee was right in that the one store had it.” Granted, the store had beenin Toronto, but that was a minor thing when all it had taken was a thought andhe’d been there a moment later.

“Hmm.” Neil’s hands hovered around Andrew’s shoulders for afew seconds before Andrew grasped them gently by the wrist and draped themaround his neck to show it was all right to hold onto him, then ran his ownhands along the front of the idiot’s chest while he deepened the kiss. Theydidn’t have much time… he didn’t havemuch time, but soon enough they both were lying down on the bed while King andSir let out displeased meows and jumped off, Andrew’s hands beneath Neil’st-shirt and Neil’s hands in his hair.

It was when Andrew took to skimming his lips along the topof the black collar around Neil’s throat and his left hand began to slipbeneath the waistband of Neil’s dark grey jeans that he reminded himself of whycontinuing things past that point would be ‘bad’, even though he had a feelingthat in another half an hour he’d greatly regret stopping now and getting upfrom the bed. With a slight sigh of regret, he pulled away from his lover,which provoked a displeased sound from Neil which sounded a bit reminiscent ofwhat the cats had made a couple of minutes before (Neil needed to hang out withRenee or Dan some more, dammit, and less at home with all the cats).

“Come on,” Andrew told him as he dragged his idiot upright.“When is the asshole going to be here?” Once Neil was sitting with a scowl onhis face, he let him go to grab the bag of hot chocolate mix.

“Uhm.” Now Neil appeared thoughtful as he considered somethingthen sighed. “Very soon.”

“Great.” Andrew headed to the kitchen, mindful of thekittens from the litter temporarily taking up residence near the coffee able,so he could have a glass of whiskey before having to deal with both Wrath andthe dinner. “Sure you can’t hang out with Renee or Matt for the night instead?”

“Renee has planswith Allison,” Neil told him as he followed along, still somewhat bemused byAndrew’s insistence on calling their fellow Named Ones by their ‘mortal’monikers but playing along as always, “and Matt has been going on about somenew game coming out.” He shuddered a little as he mentioned his friend.“Supposedly he has high hopes of being able to beat Tem- ah, Jean on it, so Ifear if I go spend time with him, he’ll force me to play it so he canpractice.”

Hmm, it sounded as if Jean was off on another ‘not-date’with Jeremy that evening. Andrew didn’t understand why it was taking someonewho otherwise appeared intelligent so long to pick up the fucking clue that areasonably attractive (if one liked annoying and almost always cheerful morons)guy adored them. Then again, it was becoming clear that Riko had fucked up Jeanin various ways over the years that he’d kept the Virtue magically chained inservitude to the prick, a thought that made Andrew slosh a good bit of whiskeyinto the glass tumbler then toss it back with haste.

Riko was nevergetting anywhere near Neil again, so Andrew would just have to suffer throughWrath being in his home that evening while he was out at Bee’s, since she haddeclared the weekly ‘family’ dinners a time for Andrew, Aaron and Nicky to getto know each other better without any ‘respective others’ (meaning Neil andErik) to be there as a distraction (to be insulted by Aaron, for Neil to sayhis weird, unfiltered shit or for Erik to take offense at Aaron’s insults onNicky’s and Neil’s behalves).

Neil came over to stand beside Andrew until their shouldersbrushed together with a purring Sir held in his arms, and some of the angersettled in Andrew at the contact. He felt the urge to unfurl his wings and wrapthem around his lover, to slip betweento some high rooftop where the two of them could look out over a city,somewhere peaceful and safe and blocked off from the world, but he had hisobligations tonight. He’d promised Bee to help her with Aaron, had answered hisbrother’s call and taken that step to save him, so he could only miss a dinnerif another call pulled at him or if there was something equally important.

Unfortunately for him, trading insults with Neil’s uncle fora couple of hours or making out with his lover didn’t qualify as that‘important’.

He debated another glass of whiskey when there was afamiliar rush of power followed by an quick knock on the front door, and sighedagain when Neil smiled as he went to allow their guest into the loft.

/The angry one is visiting?/ Sir asked as she twisted herhead back to look at Neil.

“Yes, for a little bit.”

/Hmm, he brought treats last time./

Neil set her down before he opened the door to admit Wrath,who was dressed in light grey slacks and a white button-down shirt without avest, tie or jacket – in other words, rather informal for once. He held thestrings to a gift bag in his left hand, and judging from the way that King cametrotting forward and Sir’s black ears perked up, he continued to bribe the damncats. “Looking good, kiddo,” he said as he reached out to tousle Neil’s unrulyauburn curls.

“Thank you.” Neil suffered the affectionate gesture with agenuine smile before he stepped out of the way. “You look good, too.”

“Been busy as fuck, but I can’t complain.” Wrath’s grey eyesnarrowed a little when he caught sight of Andrew, then he shrugged. “Broughtsome of those butter biscuits you really like, figured we’d have them and sometea.”

“Well, this party is getting too out of control for me, timeto leave,” Andrew drawled while Wrath huffed and made a rude gesture in hisdirection; he doubted that he and the Vice would ever be good friends, but theywere unified in their determination to keep a certain idiot safe and that wasenough common ground for them.

“I think you need to get the place sprayed for fleas, kiddo.Seems to be an annoying one buzzing around here,” Wrath commented as he set thebag down on the kitchen island.

“Not funny,” Neil sighed, but before he could chide hisuncle for the pathetic joke, Andrew grasped his lover by the chin and pulledhim in for a quick kiss.

“Try not to do anything too stupid with the old fart thereand save me some cookies,” Andrew told him right before he slipped between, and left with the sight ofNeil’s smile in his mind and Wrath’s gruff voice calling out ‘little shit’before he appeared in Bee’s kitchen.

There was the smell of garlic and meatloaf in the air, andBee paused in checking a boiling pot to stare at him for a couple of seconds.“I still can’t get over that,” she said with a smile as she pushed up herfogged glasses.

She accepted the fact that Andrew and Aaron were demi-gods,that Nicky was a powerful witch, that Andrew had taken on the Aspect of a Furyand meted out justice and vengeance, that there were times he bore wings andfangs and claws… and it was the teleportation which left her amazed. He shookhis head as he held up the bag of hot chocolate. “I got you more of that mixyou liked.”

Her smile strengthened as she wiped her hands on her hipsthen reached for it. “Thank you.” She set the bag aside on the counter thenlooked him up and down as if to take in the finely knit black sweater, theblack jeans and ankle boots. “Hmm, being a mythological creature appears toagree with you.”

“Amusing,” he told her while he filched a slice of breadfrom the basket set out on the counter and began to break it apart to eat it. “Where’sAaron?”

“He went to get changed after helping me prepare dinner.”She checked the pot one more time before turning off the oven. “How’s Neil?”

“The same as always. Nicky made the mistake of showing himWikipedia a few days ago so now I have to make sure to limit his time on theinternet or he’ll spend hours correcting ‘the many, many erroneous events foolish humans keep asserting took place inhistory.’ Which is usually followed by the question, ‘Andrew, do mortals knowwhat the word ‘history’ means?’.” He rolled his eyes while glancing around thebottle of wine Bee had to have out on the counter somewhere, and started for itonce he caught sight of it.

Bee did her best to bite back on a laugh and didn’t sayanything when he started to uncork the bottle, having given up by then onlecturing Andrew on ‘underage drinking’; he wasn’t ‘human’ and a few glasses ofwine wouldn’t affect him, that and he no longer drove. Hell, ever since he tookon the aspect of Tisiphone and ‘Andrew Joseph Dobson’ had for all intents andpurposes disappeared from the world, the Fates had twisted things so that Nickyhad ended up with Andrew’s car. He’d be a bit bitter about that, but he couldgo anywhere he wanted with a mere thought and had ‘inherited’ enough money withthe Aspect to buy a few dozen fancy sports cars if he was so inclined.

“Yes, that does sound like him. You’ll have to bring himover soon, I do enjoy listening to his stories.” Bee smiled as she reached intothe oven to pull out the meatloaf, while Andrew poured her a glass of wine aswell.

She’d just reached for the glass when Aaron entered thekitchen, dressed all in black much like Andrew – however, that was where theirsimilarities ended. Unlike Andrew, Aaron didn’t have a fancy black credit cardand a nice huge bank account, so his style relied more on Nicky’s and Bee’scharity (well, and a bit on Andrew’s, considering that he’d given Bee somemoney back in November and December and told her to pass it off as presentsfrom her for the ungrateful bastard) than anything else. There was also thefact that Andrew had never looked like such a sullen asshole ever in his life. “Oh,you’re here already,” Aaron said with a faint sniff as he folded his arms overhis chest. “Wonderful.”

The smile faded a little from Bee’s mouth as she glancedover at her latest project. “We were just talking about Neil.”

Aaron’s lips twisted a little upon hearing the name ofAndrew’s lover. “What, we’re starting it already? Nicky’s not even here yet andI have to put up with how great and perfect things are with everyone but me?”He scowled at Andrew, who merely stood there drinking his wine, well used tothe current rant. “Having fun playing house with the scary freak-“

“Aaron,” Bee warned as she set her own wine aside and gaveAndrew’s twin a narrowed look.

“-and you go around messing up other people’s lives, huh?Kill anyone else’s mom today?” Aaron taunted him.

“Aaron! That was uncalled for,” Bee said, but before shecould go on about displacement or some other bullshit, Andrew shook his head.

“Not today,” he informed his brother. “But I did kill one acouple of days ago, some drunken bitch who’ll never harm her daughter again.”Andrew ‘smiled’ at Aaron, an expression that had too much sharp teeth in it,and didn’t stop even when Aaron flinched from the sight and Bee drained herwineglass. “Funny how the girl was so grateful for what I did, how all of themare grateful, except for my own flesh and blood.”

“But… she… I don’t….” Aaron sputtered into silence and shookhis head, his expression no longer one of utmost petulance and spite but ofconfusion instead. He wrapped his arms around himself until Bee gave a lighttouch to his left shoulder.

“Go check the table, will you?” she asked, and after aslight start he nodded then hurried into the dining room. Bee watched him gobefore looking over at Andrew. “He’s… well, he’s trying a little,” she offered.“At least he’s talking about it now. It’s small steps but it’s something.”

It was Aaron blaming Andrew for doing something Aaron hadbeen unable to do, for Aaron being unwilling to let go of the past when he finallyhad a future in front of him. Not for the first time, Andrew regretted beingunable to let go of things himself, since he was now stuck with Nicky andAaron, with a pest of a cousin and an ungrateful shit of a brother. All thatand he still had dinner to get through with both of them.

[huntertales]

Part One: Live Like There’s No Tomorrow. (Abandon all Hope S05E10)

Useful Links: Last Part | All Episodes Word Count: 6,987. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  A/N: I am SOOO excited for this episode. So much is planned for this, as if you couldn't tell by the word count, I went way over board. And can you believe we're finally on double digits? That's crazy! I really hope you guys enjoy this very first part, it was a lot of fun for me to write. Hopefully I'll have more out soon!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

"Do you have eyes on him yet?" You sat on the hood of the Impala with one hand resting against the still warm metal as the other cradled your cell phone. Over the past few days you and the boys have been tracking down the new lead on the colt, thanks to a very unexpected source, and book number twenty three of the Supernatural series. Here in black and white, chapter thirty-three, describes all about the three deals this demon Crowley was attached to. From the one you and your mother made, all the way to the one Bela made for a final chance at saving her own skin. It seemed this Crowley was more than just some right-hand man to Lilith, he was quite high up in the ranks of Hell. He liked to call himself the king of the Crossroads, as it was a prestigious title, he was one of the few demons that handled special deals to make sure everything was properly handled. “He’s a little shorter than you, British accent. Wears a black suit and a grayish black tie.”

On the other line was Cas, who had been trailing behind the demon since early this morning after you managed to pin down Crowley's exact location. Finding out the answer was a little more easier than you thought it was going to be. You set the bait for a crossroads deal the other night with a hidden devil's trap, and an hour later, she confessed about where her other boss was going to be. Crowley had a very important banker he wanted to personally visit, but since the man was having a bit of cold feet of commitment, he was allowed to think it over before meeting again. But a pretty face could make men do just about anything. The demon told you she was already sure the man was going to say yes. But instead of her, Crowley was going to do the personal honors of sealing the deal. And it wasn't because she would be back in Hell after you got done with her. If you wanted something done right, you just had to do it yourself.

"Got him." Cas answered you, after leaving you with a pause of silence that was making you grow antsy. You leaned farther back in your spot as a smile spread across your lips from how the plan was unfolding exactly like you wanted. The angel was quiet for a moment as he observed the demon in action, you took a moment to observe the backroads of the town you were passing through. "The demon Crowley is making a deal. Even as we speak, it's...going...down."

"'Going down'?" You repeated after him, finding his wording a little more amusing than you should have as a quiet laugh escaped your mouth. Dean, who was leaning against the driver's side of the car, looked up briefly from the book he was reading, you could tell he was caught up in the fictional world, and a little peeved at you disrupting him. "Okay, buddy. Just don't lose him."

"I won't lose him." The angel reassured you. You heard the other line grow dead for a moment and very faint sounds of shoes crunching against gravel. You suspected Cas was following the demon like a shadow, wondering where he was going next to celebrate a job well done. And it seemed this demon wanted to retire at his humble abode. "I followed him. It's not far, but...it's layered in enochian warding magic. I can't get in."

You thanked Cas for the help, telling him you would take it from here. You ended the call and shoved the phone back to your pocket for safekeeping. As you looked over Dean's way, your lips stretched into a small smile at seeing him engrossed with the fictional world that was all his own. Ever since Becky had given you the copy of the second to last book in the Supernatural series, you had read it almost in two days to figure out who this demon was before discarding it to the backseat. Dean had graveled and complained about the entire series since he first heard about it a year ago.Not to mention the first ever convention you and the boys were able to attend thanks to Becky. While the man was pissed at everything that made his life into a book series, it seemed he was softening up to the idea as he flipped to another page, getting closer to the end.  

"Enjoying yourself there?" Your voice broke the oldest Winchester's concentration away from the final few words of the chapter. He jumped slightly in surprise, acting like someone who was caught with a dirty magazine instead of a book, and the quiet laughter that followed from your mouth made him look at you with a slightly annoyed look again. "For someone who hated the book, you're sure getting cozy with it."

"I'm not. I was just...bored." Dean tried covering his tracks by making up a small lie on the spot, but when you raised a brow at him, he knew you could see straight through him. The man looked down at the book he was holding for a second before shutting it, making sure to mark his spot for later before changing the subject. "What'd Cas say?"

"Good news, boys." You slipped yourself off the hood, landing on your feet as Sam turned around in his spot after he had been previously leaning against the passenger side door and keeping himself occupied by observing the lake. Now he was staring at you, curious to see what you had to say. "We've got a lead on Crowley. Cas should be texting the location right about...Now.”

You reached a hand inside your pocket again when you felt the vibrations, signaling a new text message from the angel. A smile spread across your lips at how smooth this plan was coming along. The boys headed for the front of the Impala as you slipped yourself into the back, you wasted no time in calling up on old friend that was waiting patiently to start the next plan of action.

+ + +

"Tell me again why I agreed to this?" You muttered the question underneath your breath as you kicked your feet out from the passenger side of the car and pulling yourself up without falling over like an idiot. You would do just about anything for a hunt, from going undercover numerous times and putting your own life on the line if it meant to save a few people from death. It was just how the job went. But you were finding this plan a little out of your personal comfort zone. You pulled down your dress one more time, as if it was going to stretch for your own comfort as you tried balancing yourself in the heels with a few more inches you weren’t used to so you wouldn’t fall in your face. “It’s freezing outside. And I look like a prostitute.”

“Yes. But an expensive prostitute.” Jo said, trying to be helpful as she stepped out from the driver's side car and slammed it shut behind her. You gave her a look to show you weren't even the slightest bit amused at her humor.

Both of you were dressed as if you were spending a night on the town, little black dresses that barely covered any skin and heels to match. Your hand brushed against the demon knife that was hidden in the holster strapped to your inner thigh to make sure it was safely hidden by your dress. Good thing Ellen was back at Bobby's, because if she saw how her daughter was dressed, the boys might have a few things to worry about than the handful of demons lurking around Crowley's private estate. Since you couldn't walk up there and ask to see the demon personally, you needed to set a perfect bait to grant yourself access. What did all creatures have in common? They get stupid when they see a pretty face in distress.

You pulled down the bottom of your dress just one more time before Jo was slapping your hand away, telling you to stop fussing. You gave the woman another dirty look before you followed behind, both of you making the small walk to the house that was just up the street. Cas had taken a sweep of the place to give all of you a rough idea of the set up, while he could just pop himself to the front door, you were left standing in front of a very tall gate. Taking one peek up, you noticed there was a security camera pointed directly at the both of you. But you didn't let that intimate you. Jo watched as you uncrossed your arms to press the intercom to get someone's attention.

“Hello?”

You heard a voice come from the other side and it sounds American. It seemed Crowley didn’t like to be bothered with unwelcome guests. “Hello? My friend’s car broke down.” You explained to the man, making sure your voice was timid as you cross your arms back over your chest. Partly because it helped sell the story to the poor goon who was about to meet you. And it was so damn cold out here tonight. “We—We need some help.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” The man said.

You step away from the intercom as you turned around so your back was facing the security camera, giving you a chance to roll your eyes at how stupid this plan was. Yet a second later you were following behind Jo when the gate opened, giving you access to the property. The both of you walked slowly up the stone path, seeming a bit cautious when you watched two men head down the way you were coming, with a smile that didn't make you feel their intentions weren't to help a few people stranded in the middle of the night. "Evening, pretty ladies." The first man greeted the both of you with a warm tone, you barely managed to return a faction of a smile. "Get yourselves in on here." "Uh," Jo looked over at you with an uneasy look at the offer that seemed more like a red flag than a gesture of help. She glanced back over at the man as she responded with a nervous chuckle. "We just need to make a phone call."

"You don't need anyone, baby." The man said with a smoothness in his voice, thinking tonight was about to get more interesting with a couple of pretty ladies to keep him company. He glanced over at his partner for a brief second before glancing over at you and Jo. "We're the only help you two will never need." "You know what?" You gave both of them men an uneasy smile as you pointed a finger over your shoulder, gesturing to the gate as you took one step back. You gave Jo a look as you nervously swallowed. "I think we should just wait in the car. My cell phone's in there, anyway. I can just walk around until I find a signal." You turned around on your heels without managing to slip on your ass, the only thought that is on your mind is getting the hell out of here. At least, you let the man and the partner think. His eyes turn black as he reached out a hand to grab your arm and try to yank you backwards. "We said, get your asses in here."

A scoff escaped your mouth at how he was trying to take advantage of you, but before he could do anything stupid, a hand slipped underneath your dress to fetch out the demon knife as you turn back around to face him. You take the demon by surprise when you easily stab him in the chest, a hue of orange ignites in his body before you watch as he drops to the ground. His partner suddenly knows what's going on, and when he tried to pin down Jo before she could run, the woman easily shook herself loose before pinning him to the ground. You take the chance to shove the knife into the demon's neck and pull it out, letting him join his partner to the concrete. A little blood wouldn't be too hard for Crowley to wash off. If he made it past tonight.

"Nice work, ladies." You looked over your shoulder to see it was the boys, Dean's holding a duffel bag as Sam tossed you a pile of folded clothes. Mumbling a thank you, Jo took the duffel bag so she could pull out a pair of wire cutters. You kick off the heels, letting your bare feet touch the grass you moved onto so you could slip your jeans on and quickly change before joining the boys as Jo went her separate ways to cut the power. You left the dress and heels where they were. It was the one you had forgotten to give Bela back when she was still alive. The boys were a bit baffled at your plan, but you got dressed in under thirty seconds as you were getting on your shoes at the minute mark. Neither one of boys had the pleasure of having gym as your first period and your second class at the the other end of the school three years in a row. Changing fast was a skill was something that you actually found useful after graduating.

You and the boys snuck inside the house a minute before the power cut off, it gave you a chance to make a hidden devil's trap and Crowley just a moment more of his luxury of living before he would find the tip of the blade shoved into his chest. You wandered down the dark hallway as the boys got ready, you made your arrival noticeable by tipping over an expensive and old looking vase with the tip of your finger. A small smile spread across your lips when the priceless artifact crashed to the ground, crumbling into nothing more than mismatched pottery. "Oops." Was all you could say for yourself. You heard footsteps begin to trail across the wooden floors as you watched a shadow cross across the walls, the person approaching you was the exact same man you'd met once two years ago. A smile spread across your lips as you pointed the demon blade at him, deciding to be friendly with him.

“It’s Crowley, right?”

“So...Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys finally found me. Took you long enough.” Crowley spoke with a casual tone to the three of you, and with the same accent you remembered him having. He began walking forward to you with his hands placed in his pockets. You tightened your grip around the blade as you watch him stride forward, getting himself closer to stepping into the devil’s trap you had made just for him. But it seemed you had underestimated his smarts. You swallowed when the demon stopped in his tracks, finding something a bit off. He looked over to the left of him to see the broken vase, but that wasn’t the only thing you had messed with. Crowley noticed the rug in front of him was bunched up slightly. You glanced over at the boys when he decided to crouch down and flip over the rug, finding the trap. But it seemed he wasn’t pissed about the lack of trust. “Do you have any idea how much this rug costs? And that vase was a lovely gift. Shame you’re such a klutz, Y/N.”

Before you realized what was happening, the blade slipped out of your fingers when you felt someone attack you from behind and pinned you into place. It didn't take much effort to realize Crowley had a few more goons at his fingertips. The demon walked over to a table and opened up the drawer, casually pulling out the colt and lifted it up so you could inspect it. "This is it, right? This is what it's all about." Crowley glanced over at the three of you to see the astonishment on your faces, all these months of hunting it down, and he held it like he was ready to shoot. It didn’t help that he decided to point the gun at the oldest Winchester with his finger on the trigger. But he seemed to have been in a helpful mood tonight. Crowley shot off three rounds in the matter of seconds, not at you or the boys, but the demons that were holding you. You step forward when you heard the body drop to the ground. While you were baffled at what happened, Crowley nodded his head at you. "We need to talk. Privately."

You and the boys exchanged an uneasy look, still not sure what had just unfolded, but you listened to the demon as you followed behind first. The four of you walked down the hall until you stepped into another room, and from the interior, it must have been his office with a fire going to keep his cold heart warm on this chilly evening. "What the hell is this?" Dean asked the demon as he trailed close behind you.

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley answered the hunter's question with another. He stopped at his desk, and with a simple wave of the arm, he slammed the door shut. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists at all. Except that I told you."

You furrowed your brow from the demon's statement, "You told us?"

"Rumors, innuendo...send out on the grapevine." Crowley explained to the three of you.

"Why? Why tell us anything?" You asked the demon, wondering what his motivation was behind all of this. Crowley listened to what you had to say as he pointed the colt back at Dean, seeming to be a bit more interested at practicing his aim. "You know, you might want to put that down. Or you're gonna find a knife stuck in your throat."

"Like mother, like daughter. Always with the threats.” Crowley mumbled to himself as he lowered the colt, you gave him a look as he stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment as a smirk spread across his lips. “You and I are reunited once again for a reason, darling. And it's not about making deals. I know you'd like nothing more than to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."

"Uh-huh. Okay." Dean said. He gave the demon a chance to tell you his motivation behind helping all of you, but it was still a little fuzzy. "And why exactly would you want the devil dead?"

"Not all of us are lucky enough to be a love child of a demon turned human and a infertile hunter. It's called survival." Crowley told you, but the answer was directed more to the brothers. You watched as the demon placed down the gun on the desk and stepped away. "Y/N maybe Lucifer's shiny new toy, but at least she was born with a set of brains. I forgot you two, at best, are functional morons."

"Yeah, you're functioning..." Dean tried his hardest to throw an insult back at the demon, but he found himself fumbling for a proper response. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving Crowley the satisfaction of winning this petty fight. "...Moron. Mor—"

"Are you done? Wouldn't want you to kill what brain cells you've got left in there." Crowley said, seeming to find the man's attempt at giving another snarky remark nothing but annoying. Dean nodded his head and allowed the demon to continue. “Lucifer isn’t a demon, remember? He’s an angel—an angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you’re just...filthy bags of pus.” Crowley said, trying to give the brothers a proper image as he reached out to grab his glass full of whiskey he was previously drinking. Your eyes wandered to the colt that was sitting at the edge of the desk, unattended. “If that’s what the way he feels about you...what can he think about us?”

"But he created you." Sam said, but it seemed Lucifer didn't have a sentimental attachment to his own handiwork.

"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind...we're next." Crowley told you the gritty details. He wandered over to the other side of the desk so he was now able to lean against the wood, and just a mere few inches from the colt. "So, help me. Huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times. Back to...when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, damn it. I didn't ask to be apart of this monstrosity. No offense, darling." looked at him with a dirty expression, knowing it was pretty clear that Crowley didn't have an exact idea of what he was getting himself into when he allowed your mother to take that second  deal. A soul was a soul. But it seemed he was ready to bury the past mistakes for the bigger picture. "So, what do you say? What if..." The demon put down the drink for the colt. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him when he handed over the gun, positioning the handle in your direction. "I give you this thing and you go kill the devil?"

You stretched out your arm to grab the colt, but you stopped for a second, finding all of this a little too easy for your own personal comfort. You and Crowley stared at a moment, making him sense your hesitance. He pushed the gun into your hand, letting you wrap your fingers around the unfamiliar handle as he dropped his arm back to the desk. You glanced over at the boys for a brief second, all of you sharing the same amount of awkwardness from how easy this was. But there was one more problem you were facing.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?" Sam asked the demon, slightly curious if he could make this plan go a little faster.

"Thursday." Crowley answered the man as he grabbed his drink again from the desk. "Birdies tell me he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri."

You mumbled a thank you to the demon for all of this information he was feeding you, and while he was more helpful than any black eyed monster you had met, there was still the insurance of silencing him if this ended up being a trap. Crowley couldn't go running back to his creator if was dead. You pointed the barrel of the gun directly between his eyes, catching him by surprise. But it seemed the demon had the last laugh when you pulled down on the trigger, expecting a boom and for his brains to paint the walls behind him, but all you gotten was a faint click.

“Well…” You dropped your arm to the side when you realized the chamber was empty. “That was a bit anticlimactic.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Crowley realized he had emptied what bullets were left to the demons he once called his help. He pushed himself to his feet and circled around the desk to fetch the things Bela had given him. “You probably need some more ammunition.”

You were finding this interaction with Crowley a little weirder than you were expecting. You looked over at the boys to see the both of them were confused as you were. “Uh, excuse me for asking,” Dean pipped up, deciding to ask a question if this plan backfired in your face. “But aren’t you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?”

"Number one—he's gonna wipe us all out anyway. Except for Y/N here. If you don't want to be the only person left with Lucifer after he burns this planet to a crisp, I suggest you get these boys' heads out of their arses. Two—after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three," Crowley listed off the reasons, and when he gotten the biggest warning of all, he raised his voice to make the point clear. "How about you don't miss?! Okay?! Morons!"

Crowley threw the bundle of ammunition to where Dean was standing, catching the man off guard, but he was quick enough to catch it. The older Winchester fumbled to opening up the leather pouch to see if it was the real deal, and it sure was, there was at least a few dozen bullets at your disposal. When you looked back over at the desk to see where the demon had gone, it seemed you were too late. Crowley vanished into thin air.

+ + +

It wasn't the end of the world just yet, but you were going to party like it was. You, the boys and Jo headed back to Bobby's after a successful job well done. It was strange to have the colt back in your grip after so long away, but you were feeling more hopeful than you had been in a long time. You had been thinking about what it might be like to end this situation before it got worse, to have the only threat of a possible rupture, dismissed after the devil himself was buried back where he belonged. The kill would be better than anything you would feel. It might be better than when Dean put a bullet in Azazel's skull. You would just have to wait and see tomorrow night. For now, on this Tuesday night, you were going to drink and be merry with the people you loved.

You leaned back in your seat as you stretched out your legs while you sat at the cramped table in the middle of Bobby's kitchen. Cas sat to your left, Jo was to your right as Ellen sat on the opposite to where the angel was. The Harvelle women were nothing short of amazed to see that angels were real, and while almost all of them were dicks, there was one that you called a friend. The table was filled with empty shot glasses and a half bottle of tequila you picked up from the liquor store, along with six shots filled and ready to go. You and Jo watched as Ellen took her skills of running a bar for a few decades to the test. She grabbed another shot from the table, making that her fifth one in a row, and with ease, downed it with only a wince before flipping it so it was upside down.

"Oh my God." You let out a slight giggle as you reached up to press the bottle of the beer you were drinking to your lips so you could take another drink. You were no means a light weight, but with the celebritorious atmosphere surrounding you, it made your attitude was coming off carefree and happy. "Who knew your mom was such a bad ass drinker, Jo."

"Oh, that's nothing. Before your mother got pregnant with you, she could drink just about anyone under the table. No hunter could touch her even if they tried." Ellen said. You raised your brow as a smile began to spread across your face again. Ellen had almost never talked about your mother before, maybe because it was a touchy subject for the both of you. But it seemed she was more lighthearted about it from the five shots she just downed, it made you curious for more. But there were more important matters at stake right now. She looked at the angel sitting in front of her. "All right, big boy. Let's go."

Cas was still learning about what it means to be a human, and while he had only one drink in his entire lifetime, he could follow example pretty well. You watched as the angel grabbed the first shot from the table and downed it, then the other...and the other...all before the five shot glasses were turned upside down. You felt your mouth part open slightly in surprise at how he was able to do that with little to no reaction, and while you asked him how he felt, it seemed he didn't have such a high tolerance for alcohol as you thought.  "I think I'm starting to feel something." He said.

You let another smile spread across your lips behind the beer bottle that you pressed against your skin, feeling the once chilled glass now feel warm against your skin. You shook the bottle slightly to feel that it was empty, meaning you needed another round, and making it only your third for the night. Pushing yourself out of your seat, you headed for the fridge and fished out one bottle for yourself as you placed it on the counter. “Mind grabbing me one?” You peeked your head out from the fridge to see it was Ellen. She left her daughter to try and test the angel once more with another round of shots. You nodded your head and fetched out a glass for her. She busied herself by popping off the tops like it was second nature before grabbing her bottle. You raised a brow when she reached out the glass to yours, as if she was going to make a toast. “You know, Y/N, I might have only known you and the boys for a handful of years now. But you’ve had a pretty big impact on my daughter’s life.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.” You said with a bit of playfulness in your voice. Ellen let a smile spread across her lips at the joke, you returned the gesture as you glanced over at the young woman for a moment. “You should be proud of her, Ellen. She’s a pretty damn good hunter. Takes after her mother.”

“No, that’s all her father. I’m just here so she doesn’t get herself killed.” Ellen said. She fell silent for a moment at her words, knowing in this lifestyle it wasn’t easy, as her husband had died on the job when Jo was a little girl. But the woman didn’t focus on it for too long as she continued on talking/ “She’s come a long way, that’s for sure. Ever since she took that first case with you and the boys, when she ran off and gave me a heart attack...she couldn’t get enough. ‘If Y/N can do it, why can’t I’? She kept asking me that over and over. And so I thought, why can’t she? Hunting is in your kids’ blood. Much as Ella and I wanted to fight it, we had to let you girls go.”

"Well, there's a difference between my mom and you, Ellen." You let out a quiet laugh that sounded more like an exhale of breath from the path you had took. "If my mother was still alive, I don't think she would be happy I turned into a hunter. All that hard work and danger she put herself through, it means nothing now."

"Y/N, I'll give you a little lesson on what it means to be a parent. We're hard on you kids because we want the best for you. I mean, nobody wants their child to become anything if it means they put their life on the life every single day. But at the end of the day, we’re still proud of you. And Ella would be nothing but pleased to see how you've come out. You're smart and caring, not to mention a skilled hunter she would be proud of. And if it means anything to you, I'm pretty damn proud of you myself." Ellen admitted with a quiet voice. Your eyes jumped up at her, a small smile began to creep at the ends of your lips from what she had told you. She was one of the last people you had in your life that has personally knew your mother, along with Bobby. "You're apart of the Harvelle family, Y/N. Jo always says of how much she looks up to you like a big sister she always wanted, too." "Mom!"

A quiet laugh escaped you at hearing Jo's reaction from the confession she wasn't expecting to hear from her own mother. She looked a little mortified, but you brushed it off as nothing, you passed by her and ruffled at her hair, messing it up a bit to tease her. She swatted your hand away and rolled her eyes, but you could see a brief smile spread across her lips. You left the ladies and Cas alone for a moment as you walked into the library where the brothers had been quietly sipping their own beers and discussing the plan for tomorrow. You gave the both of them a smile as you stood between the both of them, curious to see what they were working on. Sam acknowledged your presence with a nod before continuing on with the conversation he was previously having with his brother.

"It's got to be a trap, right?"

Sam's concern was no laughing matter, but it didn't stop the older Winchester from letting out a few chuckles at the irony. "Sam Winchester having trust issues with a demon.” Dean said. “Well, better late than never."

“Yeah, and thank you again for the continued support.” Sam said with his own hint of sarcasm.

“You’re welcome.” Dean replied. You shook your head as you watched the both of them cheers on the bond between the brothers would never break, no matter what was thrown their way. “And, you know, trap or no trap, we got a snowball's chance, we got to take it, right?”

You shrugged your shoulders, "Yeah, I guess."

"Besides, I'm not sure it is a trap. Check it out. Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with revelation omens. And look at this." Dean laid out a map to show off different spots he marked off, along with bible passages that Bobby had found with Ellen. You grabbed a few pieces of paper after setting your beer down, curious to see what he found. "There's been six missing persons reported in town since Sunday. I think the devil's there."

You flipped through the reports as you examined the omens for a brief moment. Everything here seemed too good not to be true, and it gave you a brief moment of trust in this demon Crowley. "Okay." You said, a quiet breath falling out from your mouth when you felt another pang of realization hitting you. "Looks like things are shaping up our way, boys."

“Look, when you think about it...I mean, what Crowley said about Y/N,” Dean grabbed his own beer from the desk for a brief moment to hold it. Your eyes flickered over to him to hear what he had to say. Your lips stretched into a frown in protest at what he was suggesting. “You guys can’t come with.”

“No.” You immediately protested. “That’s not fair!”

"I'd rather be safe than sorry, sweetheart. If I go against Satan and screw the pooch...okay. We've got a game piece that, we can take. BUt if you're there...then we are handing Lucifer exactly everything he wants." Dean said as he pointed a finger at you. "And we're handing the Devil's vessel right over to him on a silver platter. That's not smart."

"Since when have we ever done anything smart?" You questioned him.

"I'm serious, Y/N." Dean warned you.

"So am I." You argued back with him. "You and Sammy might have the title fight, but you gotta realize I'm the reason why Satan himself is roaming around the earth. Out of anyone on this planet, it should be me who puts a bullet in his brain. And haven't you two idiots learn a damn thing over the past few months? If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together."  

Dean contemplated your plan, and while he was against it, he was starting to change his mind when you and his little brother stared at him with that stupid puppy dog stare. Sam had learned it from you when the both of you were little kids, and it worked no matter what. "That's a stupid friggin' idea...But okay."

"Hallelujah! We got a breakthrough." You slapped your beer to the desk, avoiding any important papers you might need. You forced Dean to move back his seat when you dropped yourself into his lap. Your legs draped a few inches off the ground as he moved you closer so you could rest your head against the crook of his neck. You inhaled a breath, and the comforting smells of Dean washed over your senses, giving more into the mood of tonight. As you let yourself melt into the man’s embrace, you found your eyes lingering over to Sam, who had been quietly watching the both of you with a little smirk at the end of his lips.

“Boy, talk about stupid ideas.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. You narrowed your eyes on him slightly at the joke he was trying to play. You always felt a bit awkward when you had gotten all romantic with Dean in front of Sam. You never wanted your relationship to be something that you rubbed in the younger Winchester's face. He had a string of failed romances over the years, none of which were his fault. But the man had been nothing but supportive of the both of you. He could tell the both of you wanted some alone time, so he made up some excuse. “I think I hear…”

“Bye, Sammy.” You said with a playful wink. He pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the kitchen, leaving you and his older brother alone in the library when he closed the double doors for more privacy. When you heard nothing but muffled voices, you glanced over at Dean with a smile spreading across your lips. “So…”

“So…dangerous mission tomorrow.” Dean said. You found the end of your lips stretching into a grin at what he was saying. “Guess it’s time to...eat, drink and, you know—make merry.”

"Oh my God. Are you giving me the 'last night on earth' speech?" You asked him.

“What? No.” Dean chuckled at the accusation. You tilted your head to the side and raised a brow, making him ponder a little more on the thought. “If I was...would that work on you?”

"I don't know...But if I recall, it did work on you once." You said as your voice grew quieter. A smirk spread across your lips at the memory while you took a hand to rest it on the man's chest, your fingers kept themselves busy by making pattern on Dean’s black shirt he always seemed to wear. “Remember? You and I got into a huge fight when I thought I could go back to Hell. It was the first time I said I love you. And it was the first time we—”

"In Baby. How could I forget that?" Dean knew exactly what you were saying when he finished your thought, making his lips stretch into a smile. He looked around the library to see that it was quiet, everyone was wrapped up in their own personal activities, nobody would notice if you and Dean slipped away for an hour. You let out a slight giggle when he pressed his lips against yours, giving you a quick kiss. "Meet me in five minutes, sweetheart?”

You were about to agree with the man of his plan, but you found the mood being ultimately broken when you heard a voice echo from the living room. You let out a sigh as you pulled away from the older Winchester. "Everybody, get in here!" Bobby called out to everyone, breaking all of you from your previous activities. You and Dean forced yourselves to see what was going on as the rest of the gang trailed behind. You headed into the living room to see that Bobby had his manual camera setup. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects, in the corner."

“Oh, come on, Bobby.” Ellen complained. “Nobody wants their picture taken.”

“Shut up. You’re drinking my beer.” Bobby said. He positioned the camera exactly how he wanted, you joined the boys as they got themselves in the back, you squeezed yourself between the boys like always as the Harvelle women took your side, making Cas stand on Sam's left. Bobby rolled himself backwards so he was in the front. "Anyway, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by."

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around." Ellen joked with the man.

"Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil." Cas said, reminding you of the challenge you were up against. "This is our last night on earth." You could feel your smile falter at the words the angel had spoken, and how real they were. This wasn't a demon like Lilith or Azazel you were going up against, this was the Devil himself. The creator of everything evil and wicked, including yourself. There could be a chance the Harvelle women could suffer along with Dean, Sam could get himself exactly where Lucifer wanted him. You slowly drifted your gaze to the camera and forced yourself to smile when you heard the timer go off. And there was a grim chance you wouldn't come out of this with your humanity left in tact if he got ahold of you.

[analyticallymindedaa]

tag dump 3/?

people.

[analyticallyminded-a]

tag dump 5/???

people

[analyticallymindedarchive]

tag dump 1/??

people

[onenotsubtle-blog]

This Feels Like Falling In Love (Solo SL)

~I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting after we had talked. The biggest thing that surprised me was that James was acting more and more like a husband. I was no longer the girl that he kept alive. I was the woman he had fallen in love with. I was the woman he married.

There were things about his job that I needed to come to terms with, though.And I knew that I couldn’t fly off the handle like I had with the last job. And even then, it wasn’t the last job. We had both come to terms with the fact that I was not prepared for what we were doing.

It did not help matters that neither one of us had really come to terms with our relationship. We were avoiding the hard things.We weren’t talking. We weren’t doing much of anything. We were fighting or fucking. Occasionally, I was being taught how to defend myself. We were existing in a space together. But that was the most of it. And I wasn’t sure how to handle that.

I knew that I should not have ever been in love with him. I shouldn’t respect him. I should have hated him for what he did to my family. But it was something I couldn’t do. I couldn’t hate him for making my life better. And it was better, no matter how you looked at it.

As a Ward, I was forced to be something I didn’t want to be. I had to be this perfect little princess. I had to be Paisley Anne Ward. I had to be the youngest child in the Ward Dynasty. I was the one that was never going to take over the company, but I was going to marry someone with some kind of power. I was not going to live a quiet life in the middle of nowhere being no one. I was never going to be the teacher I had dreamed of being.

And I still was never going to be the teacher I had, at one point, dreamed of being. But I had come to terms with that the moment I was told that I owed James a favor. I knew that there was never going to be another option for me. If I didn’t come running when he called, I was going to be dead. And then it was going to be the end of any dream I had. At least, if I came running, I had the option for some kind of a dream.

But no one ever dreamed about this. You didn’t dream about becoming an assassin. Or even being involved with one. And it wasn’t the fabulous lifestyle that everyone imagined it to be. James didn’t just go out into the world without a plan. It took time to gather the information he needed for a job. I had watched him sit behind a computer screen or at a desk studying a file. He was making plans for backup plans. He never went in without a contingency plan for the five other contingency plans he made. It was why he was the best.

And maybe I was a little bit biased about him being the best. But to me, he was. James was absolutely lethal. He did what needed to be done without getting caught. But I also knew the truth about him. He didn’t have a place he could call him. Except this farmhouse. It was where he grew up, and he loved it. Even if it was something he didn’t like to talk about.

But I could see the wear and tear on the place. It needed some love. And I wasn’t sure if the house was getting it as much as it used to. But I wanted to give something to my husband. I wanted him to understand that I was taking us seriously. I wanted to give our relationship a chance, and I wanted to show him that I wanted to build a life with him. I wanted to have a home with him. And I wanted it to be a place where we could do some work, but nothing that would get us caught. This was a place for me to do research. I had another building about two hours away that was wired to the internet.

But the farmhouse was not the place to handle the actual work. It was a place for us to exist. It hadn’t taken too much time, and money talked. I had my trust fund, but that account had its own job. It was the front we were going to be using to move James’ money. But what I did have was a very shiny black credit card that would get me everything I wanted or needed without too many questions being asked.

I was used to it, though. The Ward family had made sure I was used to getting what I wanted when I wanted it. But I wasn’t a Ward anymore. The card didn’t read Paisley Ward. Instead, it informed people that I was Paisley Anne Dansby. It was one of the first things James had given me when we had gotten married. “It makes sense for you to have a credit card, Pais. Just don’t do something stupid like a buy a fucking island.” And I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t going to go out and spend his money frivolously. It was there if I wanted to do something.

I didn’t want to buy an island. I didn’t need an island. The truth was that I was tired of being alone. I wasn’t good alone. Even the few days that I spent alone when James was out on a job was too much. I was okay for the first few hours, but anything longer than a weekend and I was going out of my mind. I was sure it was because of the three years he had allowed me to go to school. But it wasn’t something I was ready to discuss with him. It was the one aspect of our relationship I wasn’t sure I was ready to be open about.

How was I supposed to tell him how much I needed him? How did I explain that I felt panicky every time he walked out that door for a job? How was I supposed to explain that without coming off as clingy or needy? I didn’t know the answer. The only thing I could do was set this up for him. I could set up the house that he had once called home for him.

I didn’t want to change much to the structure. I wanted it to be the place that James had called home. But I knew there was going to be a few updates. The downstairs held everything for us to just kind of live. I wasn’t sure if it was how it had always been, but there was an open floor plan for most of the first floor. You could walk from the living room to the kitchen without the walls blocking anything off. There was a room just off of the living room, though. The only place there was a wall separating the rooms. It wasn’t big enough to be a bedroom. But it was big enough to have a table and a couple of chairs inside of it. I knew immediately what I wanted it to be.

And the fact that there was a fireplace in the living room was exactly what I needed. That room was going to be my office. At least for now. It was the one place I could do research and maybe help James come up with a plan of attack for his target. There was so much that I wanted to help him with. But I knew I was going to be held back. There was no way he was going to let me out into the field for a while. Not when he wasn’t sure if he could trust my instincts to keep the both of us alive.

The entire downstairs had been painted in a light gray color. I didn’t want pure white walls, but I didn’t want to close the house off to sunlight. And I knew that James was not about any other colors on the walls. The kitchen was completely updated to a more modern feel. Dark granite countertops with a slightly darker shade of gray than the walls. Everything I could want or need to be the perfect hostess my mother had always wanted me to be.

But it was the bedroom I was the most proud of. It was a space for James and I to just let all of the pretenses go. It was a place where we could just be us. And the times that we actually did let everything go was rare. But it was changing. We both were beginning to realize that we could be open with each other. We could be together and not judge the other person. Granted, I had never judged James. I couldn’t. Not when I knew the truth about him and what he did to earn a living. Judging him would mean I didn’t appreciate the life he had given me the chance to live.

The navy walls were a very dark contrast to everything else in the house. But I wanted this room to be different. Dark walls with blackout curtains meant that we could hide from everyone no matter the time. I wanted to be able to give him something he could appreciate. Something that wasn’t frivolous. The bed, however, was for me. We didn’t need it to be as big as it was, but I loved the idea of us having a California King sized bed.

The truth was that it didn’t matter what size bed we had. Even if we fell asleep on opposite sides of it, we ended up wrapped around each other before morning. I just loved the design of it. The fact that it was a canopy with lace curtains surrounding the bed that could be open or closed made me happy. And that’s what the house was about. Compromise. I could give James everything he wanted, but it was also everything that I wanted.

But there was still some time to kill. I didn’t know when he was going to come back. But it was not a case of if he was going to come back. I knew he would. James was too smart to get caught. And I was the only person alive that knew about what he did. Most people didn’t know anything when they reached out to him. To them, he was a total mystery. But I was the exception. And I had been for the better part of three years. That secret could have driven us apart. But in the end, it only brought us closer together.~

#ThisFeelsLikeFallingInLove

[powerliftingpinay-blog]

That 10 Best Anime Series on Netflix

Beyond the typical movie and TV offerings on Netflix, the streaming product also has an array of Anime ranging with mainstream staples enjoy Naruto to primary series like Neo Yokio. But with shows featuring patio furniture from ninjas and icon robots to sentient gear, superheroes, and murderous high-school scholars, how can an individual choose which to look at first? In order to resolve your streaming doubts and woes, Vulture provides this guide to help Netflix’s Anime selection, featuring ten of the greatest shows available to stream today.

Attack on Titan

In some of our current age with terrifying dystopian facts, it’s hard to identify a dystopian show with something novices at deliver — nevertheless here it is usually. In the environment of Attack on Titan, humans are now living communities enclosed inside giant, concentric rooms. Outside the rooms, giant humanoid pests called “titans” wander. Oh, and they also have an appetite with regard to humans. When smart, larger titans using new abilities demonstrate themselves and break in the barriers, the military ought to figure out ways to defeat them and fortify metropolis. Oppressively sad inside particular way just dystopian shows may be, Attack on Titan follows three friends as they simply join the military and tend to be immediately thrown in the fray of some sort of titan attack. Not a single thing sacred in the following show, which options beloved characters possessing mercifully crushed, chomped, together with smashed in just about every episode. Still, that writers know interest, building a world and then a story with many layers that, as soon as you dig in, you can’t help but dont stop learning .. Season one on Netflix.

Death Note

Virtually no, not Netflix’s abominable live-action version. I’m talking regarding the original series, which stands among the greatest Animes out of them all. Such hefty approval is well-deserved just by this show, which builds relating to the classic cat-and-mouse investigation company drama and branches out in the realm of that supernatural, in which passing gods and magical notebooks are definitely the norm. When Light Yagami, a bright (but everything needed sociopathic) student gets his mitts a notebook so that him to anonymously stop whomever’s name he writes within it, he begins some sort of campaign to cleanse the modern world of its criminals — consequently, all those which oppose him. Nevertheless first, he must ward off the equally smart and eccentric detective determined to give up him. Beyond it's deft twists together with turns, Death Note additionally addresses questions approximately morality, justice, together with capital punishment. Almost the entire package, plus beautiful animation and well-written discussion and plot, makes Death Note the cream in the animated crop.

Fate/Stay Night [Unlimited Blade Works]

If you value your Anime which includes a coat of shine, you’ll like the following series, which has cartoon so shiny it seems like they ran the illustrations via the power wax in the car wash. A gaming turned manga directed Anime, Fate/Stay Night [Unlimited Blade Works] comes after Shirou Emiya, an idealistic high school graduation student who gets dragged to a secret life-or-death miraculous tournament fought just by magicians and their own servants, the summoned mood of mythological together with historical heroes. For any surviving victor waits the legendary Ultimate goal, which has the strength to grant the superior magician any wish the affected individual desires. Although there’s truly great history of matches being successfully adapted into other styles of media (ahem, Silent Hill along with the Resident Evil franchise), Fate/Stay Night will work. The real treats are definitely the battles and that servants, who comprise such mythological greats since Medea, Cuchulain, together with King Arthur, and both of whom has an exceptional ability or gun.

Kill la Kill

File this in the position of “lovably, comically foolish. ” Kill la Kill comes after the journey on the schoolgirl named Ryuko as she quest for her father’s monster. Wielding one share of a giant couple of magical red scissors since her weapon of preference, Ryuko enrolls within a high school that the students fight thanks to uniforms that allow them to have superhuman abilities. When Ryuko learns a sentient consistent that bestows her with her very own set of specialized abilities, she has to help fight her way in the school’s hierarchy with uniformed super-fighters to uncover the answers your lady desires. Two few more episodes of 100 % pure, unadulterated camp, Kill la Kill shamelessly benefits gold in regards to racy humor together with packs every minute with action, going with almost manic pace through its block, which plays out being a drug-fueled fantasy. Almost the entire package is grounded just by Ryuko, the the majority determined, streetwise miraculous girl you’ll truly meet.

Naruto

Among the most popular Anime number of the past 2 full decades, Naruto has done considerably to bring Anime in the mainstream. Naruto, a little ninja with latent abilities and then a heart of your old watches, goes on missions together with his team and tries to figure his way in the direction of becoming the Hokage, a- of the whole village. Full of underdog fights and sunny self-assurances, Naruto takes on most of the tropes of that shōnen Anime sort. But if you’re in need of subtlety and succinct storytelling, look in another place: With hundreds with episodes, Naruto is long-winded to speak about the least. Nevertheless, it’s not a major international sensation for virtually no reason; it’s a great action-packed show using comedy, drama, and positive messaging regarding the power of labor, determination, and neighborhood. Seasons one through three on Netflix.

One-Punch Man

Without a doubt, it’s not probably the most exciting concept: a bored superhero with the unbeatable one-punch breach tries (and repeatedly fails) to uncover someone to test him. Who wishes to watch a robust, near-unstoppable hero consistently win? But One-Punch Man is not even close to the typical superhero exhibit. Our hero, Saitama, loaded in uncool, hand crafted superhero duds, seems interested in getting deals in the supermarket than establishing himself as being the great savior in the city. Drawing with tropes from well-known shōnen and witty books, One-Punch Man provides comically exaggerated villains, idiotic together with incompetent heroes, and an unconsciously powerful protagonist in whose thriftiness and deadpan laughs make him — and this also show — truly extraordinary. Season one on Netflix.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

A tackle the popular sort of magical-girl Anime, Madoka Magica isn’t that fluff-and-puff series it is very much. When a middle-school person named Madoka together with her friend Sayaka face a catlike miraculous creature who assures to grant these any wish once they agree to struggle witches, it appears like everything’s going to remain flowers and natural light and cute clothing. But when Madoka together with Sayaka meet many other magical girls and the fine print on their magical-girl agreement, there’s not really much flowers and sunshine as there does exist death and give up hope. (However, there are a good amount of cute outfits. ) Madoka Magica riffs away from the expectations of magical-girl Anime to develop something darker, without a doubt, but also even more ultimately fulfilling. Quite possibly the animation, some sort of surprising 2-D collection of patterns together with colors, is trippy together with jarring, but in best wishes ways.

Rurouni Kenshin

Don’t skip this golden oldie, among the list of oldest Anime series on the market to stream on Netflix. Rurouni Kenshin comes about during the Meiji period of time in Japan, where an assassin formerly termed Hitokiri Battousai (“Battousai that Manslayer”) now moves the name Himura Kenshin and lives for a friendly, wandering samurai who vows never to take another lifetime. As a warning sign of his reformed options, he travels which includes a sword with some sort of backward blade. However the show has it's lighthearted moments, it’s not flippant considering how it handles it's themes of atonement together with justice. And even though it’s got a few filler episodes, the action views are memorable and Kenshin can be a worthy protagonist. For new fans to your series, there can be a few questions: How come the main dynamics talk like Yoda? The amount of times can the term Battousai be said within a episode? Is a sword which includes a backwards blade a good thing? Why is a villain a mummy? It’s acceptable, you can just pick it.

Sword Art Online

And for that reason it was claimed: Blessed are that gamers, for they shall inherit the globe … or at the least some really fascinating gear. This series comes after a talented teen gamer named Kirito since he tries the brand new in interactive playing games: Sword Art Online. He and innumerable others quickly identify that they’re trapped contained in the game, and once they die in that virtual world, they die in true to life. The only way to avoid, of course, may be to defeat the gameplay. Kirito teams up which includes a fellow kick-ass online gamer, Asuna, to face that game’s bosses and various human threats, and work out how to live their lives from this virtual world. The action from this show is a giant draw, but the true pull is precisely how it depicts the best way its characters react inside circumstances. The connection between Kirito together with Asuna, which evolves with a partnership between two teenagers looking to survive to an adult, supportive romance between a family who had to quickly become older in a distressing situation, is so well-done that will you’ll be rooting for your kids more than you would probably Romeo and whatshername.

Your Lie in April

Undoubtedly just about the most beautiful works with animation on Netflix today, what Your Lie in April delivers visually should be matched by precisely what it delivers sentimentally. In this passionate drama, strait-laced piano natural born player Kousei Arima undergoes a mental breakdown for a piano recital together with becomes deaf to your sound of his well-known piano-playing. But as soon as Arima meets Kaori Miyazono, a modern young violinist which plays with wildness together with passion, he starts out to re-evaluate precisely what he understands approximately music and themself. Your Lie in April certainly doesn’t cover where it’s advancing: We’ve got a great emotionally damaged boy and a manic pixie wish girl, and we realize from the beginning that there’s a superb chance this entire thing could join the express train to your Land of Crying. Still, you can’t allow but get used by the account of Arima, in whose joys, fears, and anxieties are sent to life through verdant, synesthetic animations that move along with the music. That alone makes this worth watching.