#I miss the strange horizons tour so bad

[stardustthread]

I think you guys should all be grateful that I wasn’t old enough to travel on my own/buy my own tickets when Strange Horizons was in full suit. We seem to forget that I would’ve been a force to be reckoned with and somehow even more insufferable.

[maryjeanmj]

I first arrive the London airport with several British uncles,they're all the Queen's friends,they came to CQ for saving me to UK. They really not ruin this chance,we finally safely arrive London airport,my bright life begins. They're my best friends all the way,we have no time to travel,directly get home,then quickly opened our cases ,put everything in the right places. And I've got my room,it's a new big family,I always have the opportunity to talk with them,they all welcome me. My English is so brief and useful,all words I've learned can use to different occasions. It's because they've treated me as one of them,and my three bats they help me quietly behind. I never feel dizzy or lost awareness all the way to UK,this time I'm full of safety sense. I took a bath and have supper with them,never be so happy before.I appreciate!From then on,my bats can just help me behind,when they talk to me,nobody knows. I have a warm modern room,it's so beautiful,full of sunlight each day.I'd like to stay inside,but going out also not bad,at least I'm not only one,I can always hang out with my families,they're really the best people I know,we love our family. Then I'd like to each day help them to do the things I can,their tips are so useful for me,I can benefit a lot through their family education. I love to play with children,I'd like to play with them whole day long without rests.Children are so cute,they're my best friends. They've sent me my new British ID card,it's a good one,I cherish it so much.It can be used everywhere when I need. I don't need to care about my medical issues,cause my medicine I can buy everywhere in the pharmacies,and the doctors they're all very kind to me. No matter where I am,people are all very gentle and warm-hearted,they're all very kind to me. My bats help me a lot about some issues that I can't solve myself,I really appreciate for them.Fortunately,we've moved to a new better environment than in CQ. And then,my new family will find me something to do,I believe I can do my best,cause they support me so much. I really can,make them no worries,good job!So that they would love to introduce me to their friends,I'm really happy for that!

版权归作者所有，任何形式转载请联系作者。 作者：张马瑞（来自豆瓣） 来源：https://wWe each Sunday will go to church together,then my heart feel peaceful. We each evening will go for a walk,or after supper,we'll go for a drink to the downtown. We each morning will go for running for several blocks,then back for breakfast. We each holiday will go for camping and boating,sometimes we'll go to the seaside. We each day will work,but not too much. After several days,we'll go to London once for tours,cause we'd like to walk on the street,we'd like to know the spots,broaden my horizon. After several months,the local university sends me an offer,invites me to study with them,they ask me about my willings,I said Yes,I desire to go,please apply a place for me.It's a free oppotunity,they gave me a full scholoship,this time I decide to move out to a school accomodation room.My family could be released now. The campus life is so smooth,each day I have pleasure,as an international student,nobody treats me unfair,they all respect me,we are happy together.My campus life is so helpful,I never drop for any reasons.Well,I each weekend will still come back to my family,taking my gifts to them,cause I have many creative gifts,they never feel bored for that,also not surprised,but they're happy and satisfied that I miss them,need to talk with them,no matter what happened,I should be with them,nothing can change my love to my family. And we go for traveling sometimes,all in Europe,I never feel strange while being with my family,we have many friends and relatives,I can remember their each name.We love the first Christmas we celebrating together,as a Chinese with double nationalities,My life in here is never lonely,I'm as good as all the others,letting the other Chinese can feel my happiness,I allow them to share my happiness,cause it's the real happiness.My happiness is located in here,this land is my second hometown. My family makes me love all the festivals here,my favorite is the Thanksgiving Day,I'll also miss my Chinese New Year,but not too much,cause we are busy during that time. After one year I've finished my language school study,this year I've handled the right ways of studying British English,I begin to love talking about the weather and love.I'm a Briton.

版权归作者所有，任何形式转载请联系作者。 作者：张马瑞（来自豆瓣） 来源：https://www.douban.com/note/833822394/he Britons not too welcome Chinese,but they'd like to go with me,my thoughts my opinions,each time when I have a good idea,makes them so excited,cause they need me,no matter how,cause I'm also a Briton,we are in a big family. I'm such an easygoing person who doesn't know. They like my character,they can't bare any Chinese but they like me so much,I can always make them pleasant,they're enjoying my existence. And I'm a busy girl,I've got a job.It's my British family finds me this job,I work in an office of London,how to describe my work,I'm working as an officer,each day answering the questions of my customers,they're all Londoners,nobles,I'm a very accommodating and understanding person for them,cause our company needs me,I have many workmates,they're all very experienced and caring persons,we cope with each other each day,our working environment is so relaxing and comfortable.,makes me don't want to leave my position,of course I won't,cause the boss is so caring about me,in the first month,he behaves like quite curious about,always asking me questions for living up the atmosphere.I can accept,cause my shortcomings are also so cute in his eyes,the managers are also so humorous,they'd like to joking me,my workmates all like me so much,cause I'm like their sweetheart or something!My internship is so smooth! Time runs fast,they've introduced me several British boyfriends,they all have good works. But I'm 35 year's old already,I really need to live a steady life,like getting married,having several children. By coincidence,I meet a man he's so capital,he's my Mr. Right,and it's my family introduces to me,he's so handsome can bring me safety sense,he's so caring man,each night he hugs me in his strong arms. I move to live with him.

版权归作者所有，任何形式转载请联系作者。 作者：张马瑞（来自豆瓣） 来源：https://www.douban.com/note/833922435/My fiance is an engineer,he's living in a big vila on Orford Street,I really love to talk with him,we each day will date,we date a lot no matter we have got married or just have engaged. Why we need to encounter each other,why we need to each day never feel bored for touching each other's hearts,why?Cause we feel it's so amazing to let the people know that we're together,we never hide. And you know what?He's a so gentle person,he's always appearing at the different corners of some blocks,his fingers are counting my steps,I each time is shocked by his blonde hair and moody eyes,his charming chest and that attractive temperament. He likes to stroll with me everywhere. We always stroll to stroll to some peaceful roads,we'd like to visit his friends on those streets,they're living happily inside,each day greetings and goodbyes,drunk with them,aspire their beautiful yards with sparrows,they'd like to share their works and book shelves. Recently I always forget to work,cause I just hesitate whether I should quit my job and work for my family,cause my family needs to call me back to talk about how to create a career at home. You know I really love to stay with my families and I can't one day go out without hearing a word from them. It's my habitat here,I always invite my fiance to our home for dinners. he's out to be already a part of our family. But our family is so healthy,we don't have any porno issues,we are normal people. It's a point. And I'm trying to do some housework recently for welcoming our Thanksgiving Day. Yeah,exactly. Now I have a biggger independent room at home,with a private washroom. It's good,it's so convenient. I need to take a bath and wear my new nightgown. Mom and dad suddenly call me to their dining room,they tell me that the Queen needs to see me,cause they're all officials,also nobles you know,they're the Queen who allowed to become my British families beforehand. But Her Majesty has never thought of me after I came to UK that day,how come?My parents ask me to think about how to behave,be careful about my conducts,don't be to hypocritical,cause the Royal Family they dislike. I know,I say.We talk too late that night till the early morning,we still are discussing about what the Queen and her Winsor need to know about me,I'm so familiar now,for everyone here I'm not a mysterious person,maybe it's the Queen's success,without her,I'm nobody.

版权归作者所有，任何形式转载请联系作者。 作者：张马瑞（来自豆瓣） 来源：https://www.douban.com/note/833961895/A maid she used to be a witch,she trains me about my ceremony,then let me wear like a Royal family,I've heard a sharp sword's sound when I step into a big room. The Queen Elizabeth II's grandson Prince William's head pieces are waiting over there. Oh,no!A Godfather hand in a big sharp sword,shouting:I've sliced you,my Prince's head into three pieces,how could you hang out again?!Damn!I'm totally shocked and stop my steps. The Prince William's head pieces are like a hamburger,saw me come in,quickly glimpse at me once,then like a child who has done wrongly back to his parent's education today. I have no time to care about where's his body,his head pieces are like listening to his Godfather's words so much. The Queen's like haven't seen me yet,also just stand over there,nervously listening to the Godfather's hawl. I saw the Princess Kate is not there,I feel weird,I secretly come to the Queen's side,I remind her:You know after a long time,the His Majesty's head may couldn't put back to his body then,cause I could see him doesn't have this awareness now. The Queen nods her head,then a glimpse makes the Godfather stops. He quickly call His Majesty's body to come back to his head hamburger,then back to the whole,but just a little bit look like another Godfather,that strange! The Queen leave the room without taking me,she asks me to stay,so I've heard the Prince and Godfather's chatting context. After the Queen and all the others leaving,the Prince William quickly turns to picking up the sword,then plays the sword on the wall,the wall has been wounded now. He tells the Godfather the truth why he needed the Godfather to slice his head into pieces and educated him heavily. Cause if this time successful makes the others think he's already dead,he could quit he himself here,then go with his Godfather to Europe for overseas study. He expresses that he admires my story so much,he needs to learn from me. I've lost words,my heart is broken at the same time. Cause I suddenly think of my promise,I used to dream of letting the Prince William give up his King's position,go with me for travelling whole life.

版权归作者所有，任何形式转载请联系作者。 作者：张马瑞（来自豆瓣） 来源：https://www.douban.com/note/836040036/I guess I'm a little nonsensical about my future.,I'm really brilliant through all fields but just can't stop my life. My steps to tomorrow are too light,to make me can get on the future's rainbow so quickly!I'm happy for my young face. As everybody knows,I have everything,my dream is not called a dream,it's my reality,the hours. After time to time,I may be better,somebody is better than all,that makes people all admire. So I should thank god,gives me so big talent,and just belongs to me,who knows I can never be wiped out of the world,cause I can see the people how much wanting my everything. It's so beautiful to live with my nature and the nature is part of the world already,how mature I am. So great legend happens inside of me each day,I've been surprised and appreciated again and again,I'm moved,totally. In this world,all are along with me,I don't need to ask for anything from anybody,I just each day receive,make them useful. It's a beautiful world,just I forever can't use the sharp things to treat the tender world,cause the world is my world,I should cherish,it's a great work!

[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

sorry I suck at updating. happy valentine’s day, here’s a new chapter!! 💕💕 have a lovely valentine’s 

Chapter Eight. May.

When all of this is over, I; Love me like there ain’t another day, lead with the heart, ain’t that the only way? Keep thinking ‘bout how much I changed today.

It’s surprisingly easy, then, for Niall and Lu to figure things out. It’s easy to fall into the routine of two people who can’t get enough of each other—for Niall to swing by the cafe every day after work, and for Lu to clear her weekends to watch Niall coach. They have dinner together more often than not, Ruairí sleeping at Niall’s feet while he sits at Luna’s kitchen table. They kiss on the couch and fuck on a wool blanket in front of the fireplace, Niall’s lips at Luna’s neck, Luna’s fingers clawing down his bare back. Afterwards, she likes to lie with him and trace the scratches with her own fingers, caressing the patterns that mark him as her own. 

Niall tells her that if they don’t keep it on the downlow news of their relationship will travel the island fast, and Luna will never escape questions about it—it makes her think back, so far back, to that night on the roof, when he mentioned how much Inis Mór loves its gossip. She remembers watching him that night, freezing cold on the roof of her unfamiliar flat, wondering what it would be like to truly know Niall. All she’d wanted to do then was reach out and touch his hand, feel his skin against hers—now, she does it nearly every night, without thinking twice. 

It’s one of those nights, in early May, when things change forever. 

She’s lying all over him in her bed, the way they both like to after sex, his hand tangled up in the curly mess of her hair, her fingers tracing patterns against his bare chest, the smattering of chest hair starting to bloom out across his freckled skin. Luna has the windows open and the smell of spring is delicious through the windows, even this late in the night. As a gentle breeze billows her curtains, Niall slides one hand up Luna’s bare back, from where he’d been resting it at the curve of her ass, coming to a gentle stop between her shoulder blades. She glances up at him, feeling his chest rise as he takes a deep breath, ready to speak. 

“Do you remember my mate Conor? From the Paddy’s Day party?” 

As if Luna could forget the way Conor’s brother had cornered her in the kitchen. She nods, and Niall exhales quickly. 

“Well he works at this pub down  in Dublin, helps manage it actually, and he rang me this morning while I was at work to ask if I wanted to come down and do a bit of a gig at the weekend.” His eyes are trained on the ceiling, his chest still as he holds his breath, waiting for Luna’s reaction. 

“Niall,” Luna sits up in bed, and, finally, Niall looks at her. She can’t quite figure out why he looks so nervous. “This is fucking amazing.” 

Niall breathes out a giggle, hands coming up to cover his eyes for a second. When he moves them and looks at Luna again, they’re sparkling wet. “I know it’s nothing big, just a mate doing a favor but I—my first gig in Dublin, Lunes.” 

“It is something big,” Luna doesn’t even try to temper the excitement in her voice—Niall never makes her feel embarrassed about how she reacts to things, not the way Ida, the way her old job, used to. “It’s something massive, actually, Niall. I’m so proud of you.” 

Underneath Luna, Niall flushes beautifully, his pale skin warming up with pride, love, a little embarrassment. Luna feels an impossible swell in her chest, a balloon of pride that she can’t keep from flying away, that makes it impossible to act like the chill, unbothered, cool girl she’d tried so hard to be in New York. Instead, she cups Niall’s cheek with her hand, feeling the way his skin burns up under her fingertips, and leans in for a kiss. 

-- 

And so, Luna takes her very first trip to Dublin. 

Niall can’t wrap his head around it, the fact that Luna’s been living on Inis Mór all this time and has never been off the island—not even to Galway, the closest mainland city—and Luna can’t quite figure out how to explain to him that nothing off the island is of interest to her when the island has him. Instead, she tells him it’s all for the best, anyway, that he’ll be the best tour guide or her first foray into the rest of Ireland. He smiles, and  wraps his arms around her middle on the ferry over to Galway, his body sheltering her from the violent wind and the bitter cold. Spring is tantalizing in the air, Luna can smell it in her every breath, but winter clings on nonetheless, biting and threatening. 

On the train ride from Galway to Dublin, Luna and Niall sit across from each other, Niall’s guitar at pride of place in the seat next to him. Niall takes the seat travelling backwards,  so Luna can get a proper view to  watch out the window as the Irish countryside blows past her, a blur of impossible green and infinite horizon. He falls asleep somewhere near Mullingar, in the middle of the country, and Luna finds herself watching him more than the passing landscape—the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the tangle of freckles on his neck, the gentle parting of his lips, the constant, comforting rise and fall of his chest as he dreams. 

They arrive in Dublin late that night, the city illuminated by golden street lights and car headlights in a way the island never is, and as they board the Luas on their way to Conor’s flat Luna finds that she’s not taking in the sights around her, but staring instead at the sky above, squinting, strangely desperate to catch a glimpse of any of the stars that make the Inis Mór nights so bright. 

All she can see are lights from planes, taking their passengers far away.

— 

In the morning, Luna wakes up to the sound of Niall’s laughter. She’s on the air mattress in Conor’s living room, where she and Niall had fallen asleep the night before, and she can tell from the sound of his laugh that Niall’s only in the kitchen, a room away, chatting with Conor. But for some reason, it feels like a million miles. 

She stretches out in bed, the air mattress creaking and deflating underneath her, and lets the sounds of the city wake her up, too, so that if she closes her eyes she can pretend this is New York—can feel like she’s back in Williamsburg, Ida next to her, the city bustling below them. As much as she denies it, as much as she loves her life on Inis Mór, Luna can’t shake the fact that there’s a part of her, small it may be, that misses living in a city. But then she hears Niall again, his giggle from the kitchen, and the feeling slips away without a second thought. 

Niall is where she wants to be. 

She pads into the kitchen, the sleeves of Niall’s sweatshirt pulled down over her fingers, and stills in the doorway for a second, the morning’s first smile working its way across her face as she watches Niall and Conor laugh over some video on Conor’s phone, their heads close together so they can both look at the screen. It hits Luna like a pang in the stomach, the fact that Niall is so far away from his friends all the time—the fact that, by staying where he is, he’s losing out on all of this. 

She thinks about herself, too, her early days in New York, before things got so bad. The late nights out with her friends and Ida, crashing at whoever’s apartment was closest to the bar they’d ended the night at, waking up in the afternoon in a pile on the couch, heads throbbing with hangovers and someone, the least hungover usually, standing with her phone out, writing down everyone’s order for the bagel place. Looking at it now, a million miles away, a whole ocean between it all, Luna knows that those moments were the most precious: those exhausted mornings, giggling over Snapchat stories from the night before, splitting bagels so everyone could get at least one bite of every flavor. There was no better feeling than that—nothing more intimate than the morning after the night before. 

Standing in the doorway of Conor’s flat, Luna realizes that Niall hasn’t had the chance to have any of those mornings. 

He hasn’t let himself. 

“Hey, petal. You’re up!”

Luna shakes herself out of her thoughts, eyes focusing on Niall, who’s looking at her with a smile on his face that makes her heart flip the same way it did back in January, when he walked into the cafe for the first time, wind blown and nervous. “We made a fry up, I put yours in the oven to keep it warm.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, her voice coming out a little croaky from lack of use. “That’s nice of you.”

“Wasn’t gonna leave you starving,” Niall smiles, standing up and making his way over to the coffee pot. “Sit down, lover, I’ll get your coffee ready too.” 

— 

Despite Luna’s dreams of spending the afternoon wandering around the city hand in hand with Niall, she finds that they hardly have any time to sightsee before they find themselves packed into the pub, Niall sitting next to her on a barstool, jiggling his leg up and down anxiously. It feels to Luna like there are more people in this pub alone than on the entire island of Inis Mór. She puts her hand on Niall’s knee, and feels him calm down, just a notch. 

She’s only on her second Guinness (and Niall’s barely managed to get halfway through his first), but it’s been a long time since Luna’s been drunk in a bar, and she can feel the effects of it—the alcohol coursing through her in a way it only does when you’re surrounded by other drunk people, the heady smell of the bar adding to her intoxication. She’s overwhelmed, like she knew she would be, but it’s not as bad as she anticipated—not scary and claustrophobic, but fun, something new and different and familiar, all at the same time. She drops her head onto Niall’s shoulder and closes her eyes, safe and sure here, with him by her side. 

— 

Niall gives, without a doubt, the best performance Luna has ever borne witness to. 

He starts playing to a loud, rowdy, packed pub, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of friends chatting to one another, their laughter flitting across the room—but by the time he’s three songs in he’s got the whole place captivated, all eyes on him, smiles on faces and pints raised in the air. By song five people are shouting out requests and Niall’s taking them, slinging a few jokes in between songs, and Luna could swear her heart has never felt so swollen, her stomach never so full with butterflies.  

It’s midway through his set, when Niall makes the ground fall out underneath Luna’s feet. 

“I wasn’t planning on doing this tonight,” he says into the microphone, “because I wasn’t sure anyone would be interested, but you lot seem like a kind enough audience. I wrote this tune myself, if you don’t mind me playing it? It’s called This Town.” 

— 

This Town is about Cormac. Luna can tell from the first lyric. It plays in her head on repeat for the rest of the night—through the rest of Niall’s set, through the heart-stopping smile on his face when he sits back down next to her afterward, through the unfathomable hour of strangers coming up to them and offering to buy Niall a pint for his performance, clapping him on the back and letting him know how much they enjoyed listening. It plays on repeat while Luna tells Niall how proud she is of him, leaning in for a kiss and tasting the Guinness on his lips, the lyrics on his tongue. It plays on repeat through the end of the night, too, Niall helping Conor put away some of the glasses after they lock up, Luna feeling like she’s watching herself through someone else’s eyes, spilling beer everywhere when she tries to help. 

Niall cleans up her mess without a single complaint, but Luna can’t stop feeling sick to her stomach. 

This Town still plays in her mind late that night, when Niall goes down on her in Conor’s living room, the air mattress rocking below them, and it plays in her mind the next morning, when they finally do walk hand in hand through Dublin, Niall stopping for selfies every time they pass a tourist spot. It plays on her mind when they board a train to Galway in the early afternoon, and, still, on the ferry back to Inis Mór late, late that night. Niall drives her home and they make out in the car for ages, his hands up under her sweater, windows open to let the spring air in. It smells like Niall and newness—the coming warmth, the longer days, the hope and life and breath that spring brings to everything. 

It smells, to Luna, like everything thawing away. 

— 

Luna’s grateful for work on Monday, the constant orders and customers a distraction from the feelings that she knows are out of line. Niall adores her, she tells herself as she brings Mr. O’Keefe his usual coffee, a song is just a song, and nothing more. 

But it’s hard to shake, Niall’s voice, “over and over, the only truth, everything comes back to you.” For so long, Luna realizes, Niall’s voice has been something special for her—something she hears in her cafe, in her bedroom, in her bathroom when the shower is on. Niall’s voice is the soundtrack to her washing dishes, to her curled up on the sofa reading while he plays guitar across the room. It’s the soundtrack to long car rides in the middle of the night, the moon and stars illuminating the cliffs ahead just for them. It’s the soundtrack to them, to Niall and Luna, and it hurts her more than she thought it would—more than it should—to realize that she has to share that with the rest of the world. 

When Niall bustles into the cafe that evening, Luna can’t hide her excitement. It feels like a million years, a million miles, since last night, when he pulled her in for one more kiss before driving home to his mom’s house. His cheeks are redder than usual when he comes up to the counter, despite the warm spring day outside. 

“Hiya,” Luna leans over the counter for a kiss, her anxieties melting a little when Niall’s lips meet hers. “You alright?”

“Lu,” Niall’s breathless, handing his phone to Luna across the counter. “Look at this.” 

She glances down at his phone, open to the YouTube app, and her hands start to shake before Niall speaks. She knows exactly what’s happening—it used to be her job, to help make things like this happen. 

“Someone recorded my gig down in Dublin,” he’s telling her, his voice so distant that it sounds muffled, distorted, in Luna’s ears. “It has a million views on YouTube, Lu. It’s—I’m going viral. People are asking if it’s on Spotify, I even had to take my Instagram page off private. Conor says I should come back down for another gig, people have been asking after me. I—Lu. I think we made it.”

####

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[moltenhair]

Season 3 Minus Gothel (2)

[Part 1]

This is the second part of what I managed to write. No Cass in this one since originally going to be a complete season rewrite. Which meant rewriting other parts... But then I realized I was just doing a novelization of the show for these parts and decided to scrap it 2.5 chapters in and only focus on the Cass parts. 

Which I had all plotted out before life drained me of my ambition and energy.

without further ado.. Chapter 2 (The return to Corona re-written)

-

It was a long ride home.. But it wasn’t quiet. Rapunzel kept her energy high and a smile on her face. In the basket of their hot air balloon- brought surprisingly from Corona by Ulf- she pointed excitedly at every familiar sight. So many places they had scene on their journey. It was unbelievable to think about just how far they’d come since they embarked on this mission. The black rock trail had taken them beyond the bend of the earth and to lands they never could have imagined. But also some familiar lands that were known to a few of them. Like Vardaros. Rapunzel waved enthusiastically as she spotted Hook Hand and Hookfoot’s tour caravan in the canyons below. But they were too busy being lectured by Quaid and Vex for a parking violation to notice the balloon. 

But soon, on that glowing horizon stood those familiar spires. Standing tall above the beautiful island kingdom- The Castle of Corona. Rapunzel never realized how much she could miss the sight of those towers. She couldn’t wait to be home with her mom and dad. She was going to give them the biggest hug the moment she saw them.

Still there was this feeling of… regret. She didn’t betray those feelings to her dear friends, but Rapunzel couldn’t help but feel guilty looking at those towers. In her own mind they had always stood as a symbol of strength. Peace. Unity. Love… Home. But the night before she had learned the truth of what some in her kingdom felt when they looked up at the castle. It made Rapunzel’s insides feel tight and squirmy. That feeling, even if it wasn’t her fault, was hard to shake. She couldn’t let anyone realize, though. Things were already so bad and they were returning to Corona without a friend.. She couldn’t make this about herself...

As the balloon touched down and bounced against the cobblestone streets of Corona, a giddiness filled everyone trapped in the tight confines of its basket. Eugene barely waited for it to be anchored before throwing open the woven door to step out. Rapunzel followed after and took a deep breath. Ahh, sweet personal space!

“Alright, it’s been great. But we have all been together way too long and I need a break from your faces.” Eugene teased before looking at Rapunzel with a playful smirk and a wink. “Except for you, Sunshine.”

The princess smiled, her heart warming. She knew he was trying to crack jokes to keep everyone’s mind off of what just happened. Eugene cared so much about keeping the people around him safe and happy. And thanks to his distraction, Rapunzel was able to enjoy looking out at her home town for the first time in more than a year. 

“We’re home..” She sighed, looking out into the surprisingly empty streets. But that barely mattered as Rapunzel’s heart lit up with joy. “We’re home!”

The princess took off down the streets, taking in the buildings as she passed them. Each so familiar and just as she left them. Maybe with a little extra garbage laying in the roads, but maybe it was a bank holiday or something and the trash people had the day off. Each shop window brought back a beautiful memory. The dress shop! The women who worked there designed her coronation gown! The bakery! Feldspar’s shoes! Rapunzel had never worn them but Feldspar was an artist with boot leather. 

Even Monty’s Sweet Shoppe brought a smile to her face. In fact, she’s really been craving some of Attilla’s cupcakes since she’d left. No one could make a cupcake quite like that lovable ruffian. Rapunzel marched up to the shop door and grabbed the handle, ready to swing it open and announce her return with an order of a dozen raspberry cupcakes… But when she pulled on the door it didn’t budge. She shook the handle, a frown marring her face, but it still didn’t open. She tried pushing instead… Still nothing. Her green eyes looked skyward and found the sun still hanging high up there. Monty was usually open this time of day. Did he change his schedule?

Rapunzel cupped her hands against the glass and peered through them into the shop interior. It was unusually dark inside. The shelves were fully stocked but it didn’t seem like there was anyone inside. It didn’t seem like it had been open for several days.

“Ohh.. I see.” Rapunzel laughed, stepping back from the door. She could see what was happening here. Her head turned and she looked at the chameleon perched on her shoulder. Pascal looked concerned more than amused. “I know what’s going on! Monty saw us coming and locked up the shop to keep me from buying anything!” She raised her voice so that the old man could hear her if he was inside hiding behind the front counter. “Very funny, Monty!”

“I dunno, Princess…” Lance approached from behind, his gaze flicking from one dark window to the next. “It doesn’t seem like anyone is home.”

Rapunzel’s smile fell. He was right. Not even her yelling had attracted a civilian. Nor had their balloon landing in the square attracted a guard. It was like no one was in the town at all.. What happened to everyone?

“Maybe there’s another festival or something.” Eugene suggested, sensing the rising tension. He took point, leading Rapunzel and their friends down a street. Walking backwards so he could continue to sooth them with that winning smile of his. “Come on. I’m sure they’re all around here some-WHA-”

He fell backwards suddenly, tripping over something none of them expected to see coming around the corner. When Eugene moved, Feldspar was lying on the ground, clutching a basket full of minerals that had spilled out onto the street. He groaned and sat up, looking startled and afraid. 

“Feldspar! It’s you!” Rapunzel exhaled, feeling sweet relief at finally seeing one of her kingdom’s people. “Where is everyone? We-”

“No, no! No time!” The shoemaker scrambled to his feet, shoveling his curious haul back into his basket. The look in his eyes was nothing but panic. “I have a quota to make! I can’t be late again!”

Now THIS was strange. Usually nothing shook Feldspar this bad. Well.. Nothing other than someone wearing suede shoes in the rain. 

“Quota? What is going on?” Rapunzel asked, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him from running off. “What’s all this for? Where are all the people?”

The man huffed, his ginger brows furrowing, “In the mines!” He scoffed, pointing back the way he’d come. “Everyone in the kingdom has been ordered to dig up as much of this weird mineral as possible for Varian’s… whatever it is he does with it! Everyone’s down there. It’s awful!”

Varian? He’s got the whole town trapped in a mine?

Rapunzel glanced sideways at Pascal and Eugene. The dread was shared between the three of them. 

“Don’t worry, Feldspar.” The princess spoke again, “I’m going to talk to my father and get to the bottom of this.”

“Good luck.” the shoemaker shrugged her hand off of his shoulder to continue to walk away to wherever he was supposed to check in. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eugene asked, folding his arms across his chest with an arched brow. The people of Corona not having faith in their king? That was unusual.

“I mean I don’t think the king will do anything. He was the one who gave the order.”

Rapunzel charged those castle doors without a moment of hesitation. There were no guards to slow her down, no Nigel to announce her. Her bare feet pounded down the castle halls and carried her through the throne room doors.. Where she found her parents sitting on the thrones. Seeing them for the first time in a year almost made Rapunzel forget what she’d come to confront them about. There they were! And this time they were REAL!

“Mom! Dad!” Rapunzel ran up to them, throwing an arm around each of them to pull them into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“Young lady!” The king balked, stiffening in her hold. “What is going on?”

“Frederic… Who is this?” The queen asked quietly, confusion clear in her voice.

Rapunzel released them, her eyes blinking in confusion as she looked between her mother and father. Why were they looking at her like they had no idea who she was? Why didn’t they recognize their own daughter?

“Mom, dad, it’s me.” She took a step back, gesturing to herself with a tense smile, “Your daughter?”

“Daughter?” Frederic and Arianna parotted in unison, looking at each other like they had just received alarming news. Like they had no idea they had a child at all. What was going on in Corona. First the citizens and now this?

“Dad! It’s me! What’s gotten into you?” The princess gripped her by the shoulders, “What is....that?” Her eyes fell to the medallion hanging around her father’s neck. Where there was a Corona sun there was now an ominous symbol of… A three eyed crow? Maybe? It was definitely familiar even if she couldn’t determine what it was. 

“Like it? It’s Saporian.”

As Rapunzel turned she was greeted with the sight of her friends being roughly shoved further into the throne room by a large brute she didn’t recognize. Followed by a small, slightly deranged looking woman and a face too familiar for comfort… Andrew. Smirking smugly with his hands upon his hips. Soaking in his decisive victory. At least what he seemed to think this was.

“Ah, right. Less-attractive-topknot-guy. I slightly remember you.” Eugene quipped as he straightened his jacket. 

“Andrew? You’re behind this?” Rapunzel grit her teeth and stepped down from the thrones where her parents still sat. They seemed undisturbed by the sudden appearance of a man who was sent as a spy to topple their kingdom. “What did you do to my parents?!”

“And what did you do to the Sweet Shoppe?!” Lance interjected, sounding the most offended out of anyone.

Andrew glanced at Lance only a moment before moving on as if he hadn’t heard it. “Corona is under new management, Princess. Thanks to a little help from my former cellmate…”

Cellmate? Rapunzel straightened, preparing for any manner of ruthless criminal to appear. The Stabbingtons? Had Lady Caine beaten them back to Corona? As a shadow appeared in the archway leading out of the throne room, her fingers curled into tight fists, ready to fight… But then, wearing a bandanna over his face and a heavy black jacket (that was too big for him)… emerged… VARIAN?

As he stepped into the light, dressed in dark clothes and heavy boots to match these usurpers, he pulled the bandana away from his face to reveal a cruel grin... And a crudely drawn on goatee. Which was, apparently, meant to look convincing. Rapunzel didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t. Even if he had kidnapped her mom once.

“Welcome home, Rapunzel.” he taunted.

“Varian… You’re working with Andrew? You erased my parents’ memories?!” 

“Who, me? Oohoho-” He laughed haughtily, as if this were all just some joke. “No, actually. As you know, I’m all about the science.. I helped with the breakout and the takeover but my friend Clementine here-” He gestured to the petite woman at his side, “Added some… er.. Texture.”

Rapunzel looked at this ‘Clementine’ and saw a very familiar item in her hand. A Wand of Oblivium. Rapunzel knew it well. She also knew that the effects were irreversable without the antidote.

“Give my parents back their memories. NOW.” She barked.

“Sorry, no can do, Princess.” Andrew stepped in, “We’ve got plans for them.. But don’t worry. Thanks to my new pal here, you’ll barely notice anything changed.”

Rapunzel and her friends shared a look, all equally worried about what that meant.

Andrew nudged Varian forward, smirking, “Tell ‘em.”

Varian marched forward, head held high. That look in his eye from the night Rapunzel almost died trying to free his father. But something was different. “You see, Princess, I’ve studied the magic in Clementine’s wand and devised a formula that, once finished, will create a gas with the power to erase every memory in Corona.”

Rapunzel felt a chill strike her to her bones. “What?”

“I call it ‘Quirinium’.. In honor of my father.” Varian’s grin turned sour. Into a bitter scowl. “So no one will ever be able forget who they abandoned.”

A murmur from the back of the room. Lance’s voice cutting through the tension, “Aren’t they going to have a hard time remembering after you erase their memories?”

Varian seemed caught off  guard. As if he hadn’t realized that himself or it hadn’t mattered. Rapunzel had a feeling that the alchemist hadn’t gotten much of a chance to think this plan through. Maybe there was hope to talk him out of it.

“I- It.. It doesn't matter!” Varian dismissed Lance’s words with a harsh shake of his head. “This is the only way-”

“I think that’s enough talk.” Andrew interjected, placing himself back at the front of his group. He drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at the princess. “I think it’s time to say goodbye to our uninvited guests.” 

(end)

[lucacangettathisass]

how the light gets in (ch. 10)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

check the fic tag for previous chapters!

TAGGING: @mountainhymn @kindred-hopes @sean--macguire if you would like to be added to the tag list lmk!

NOTES: hey everyone! long time no see huh? so, obviously, it's been a while since i updated, not since jan, and honestly i expected the next chapter to be out in feb, but i ended up picking up some extra shifts at work so then i was like "ok march it is!" and now it's april lmao. like many of u i've been stuck inside because of the backstreet boys reunion tour, my entire country is on lockdown because of it, so i've been able to use the time to write! and here we are! hopefully i'll be able to get the chapters out more regularly but who knows? anyway hope you all have been well! stay safe, and stay indoors if you can! love u all!

-

As you all slowly descended from the Grizzlies, you watched as the white snow slowly gave way to lush green, a sight that you hadn’t seen for months now, and you eagerly drank it up like someone being given fresh cold water after being in the desert for too long. You let out a sigh when you saw a patch of flowers, feeling like a weight has been lifted from you.

“Been a while since you’ve seen nature?” Miss Jones asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. It-it feels nice.” You smiled and watched a small bird flit from one tree to another, before flying into the horizon. “The warmth makes a nice change too.”

The other women all laughed, even Sadie cracked a smile. “Can’t argue with that one.” Miss Jackson agreed.

You looked forward, trying to see past Miss Grimshaw and the horses, but your view was greatly obstructed. You leaned over the wagon a little, keeping your hands on the sides to stay steady.

“Easy there chiquita.”

You jumped a little and looked behind you to see Mr Escuella riding leisurely beside the wagon, a smile on his lips. “Don’t want you falling overboard.”

A flush crept onto your cheeks and you timidly pulled away. “R-Right. Of course. Sorry.”

“No need to apologise.” Mr Escuella assured you, urging his horse forward so that he was beside you. “Must feel good, seeing all this after being stuck on that mountain.”

“I have missed seeing the colour green.” You admitted.

To your surprise, Mr Escuella laughed. “I can only imagine.”

Making Mr Escuella laugh made you smile, and you sat up a little straighter. “So, who’s your friend?” You reached out and gently patted the neck of Mr Escuella’s horse. The horse whinnied in an appreciative manner, encouraging you to stroke it.

“His name’s Boaz.” Mr Escuella said. “He’s a good boy.”

“A very handsome one too.” You cooed, hand going up to scratch behind one of Boaz’s ears. You furrowed your brow at the lack of reaction before you laughed lightly. “I’ve been around cats for too long.” You said softly.

“What makes you say that?” Mr Escuella sounded intrigued, and you blushed when you realized that he had heard you.

“Oh, n-nothing. It’s just...I’ve grown to expect animals to purr whenever I pet them.” You lowered your gaze, face heating up even more. “I-It’s stupid I know.”

Mr Escuella laughed again, but it didn’t sound malicious. It sounded friendly, almost fond, like he hadn’t found your admission stupid at all. “We all get used to things.” He said with a warm smile. “So, you grew up with cats?”

You nodded. “Mrs Zamolodchikova loved cats, including stray ones. There were always cats around the house so I got used to having some around. There was even a special nursery for expectant mothers and their litters.” You sighed wistfully, thinking back to the times when you would play with the cats or lounge around doing nothing at all with them in between complicated and arduous lessons. You wished you could go back to those times.

“So you’re a cat person?”

“I suppose.” You shrugged. “But only by default. I do like dogs, I just have more experience with cats. And horses of course.”

“Speaking of, your horse doesn’t seem to be too fond of Arthur.” Mr Escuella raised a brow. “I think this is the first time I’ve met a horse that Arthur couldn’t charm.”

“Oh God.” You said with a frown. “Has something happened? Did Mr Morgan say something?”

“No nothing like that.” Mr Esceulla assured you. “It’s just funny. She’s a feisty one.”

“She’s certainly spirited.” You agreed, relieved that nothing bad had happened. “It can take her a while to warm up to strangers, but once she gets used to you all I’m sure she’ll be better behaved.”

“You think you guys will be staying around that long?”

You paused, looking over at Sadie. As expected, she had been watching the interaction between you and Mr Escuella like a hawk, and she didn’t seem to be at all pleased. “We’ll see.” She said tersely.

“I’m sure Dutch won’t mind.” Mr Escuella said. “He isn’t the type to kick out two helpless women.”

“We ain’t helpless.” Sadie snarled, almost visibly bristling.

“That’s very kind of him.” You said quickly. You gently put a hand on Sadie’s knee and squeezed. “We’re immensely grateful.”

Sadie huffed.

Mr Escuella chuckled. “I’m sure.” He said teasingly, winking discreetly when Sadie looked away.

A giggle slipped past your lips and you smiled widely. “Have you been around here before Mr Escuella?”

“Can’t say I have, you?”

You shook your head. “No. It feels a little exciting, being so far east.”

Mr Escuella raised a brow. “This is your idea of excitement?” He chuckled. “Can’t wait to see how you react to everything else.”

Almost immediately you felt yourself deflate, wanting to shrink inside yourself for saying something so stupid. ‘Idiot. They all must already think you’re a child. Now look at what you’ve done.’ You looked down, wanting to avoid Mr Escuella’s gaze as your face burned with embarrassment.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that chiquita.”

You looked back up shyly and saw Mr Escuella looking contrite, and you immediately felt bad. “No no, it’s alright.” You said gently. “I-I know you weren’t trying to be cruel Mr Escuella.” You could tell Sadie was bristling like mad now, but you hoped that this would be enough to placate her. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what does chiquita mean?”

Surprisingly, Mr Escuella seemed to be relieved that you were no longer upset. “It’s Spanish, for little girl or little lady.” He looked you up and down. “In your case I would say little lady is more appropriate.”

That made your face flush even more. No one had ever called you a lady before. In fact, ‘little girl’ had often been the descriptor of choice for most.

“I’m surprised you can’t speak Spanish.” Mr Escuella said, apparently oblivious to your embarrassment.

“Y-Yes, well, I’m afraid that part of my education had been left the wayside.” You said sheepishly.

“So what languages can you speak?”

“Russian, German, French, and Italian.” You replied.

Mr Escuella let out a low whistle. “Impressive.” He said with a raised brow. “Why no Spanish?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but then suddenly realized that you didn’t really have an answer. “I...I really have no idea.” You admitted. “I never really gave it much thought, but thinking about it now, it certainly would be useful.”

“Well, you’re clearly good at picking languages up, so if you’re ever in the mood for learning Spanish, you can just ask me.” Mr Escuella smiled warmly.

It had taken you a moment to process what Mr Escuella had said, but once you did you couldn’t help but grin widely. “R-Really?” You sat up on your knees, one hand still on Boaz’s neck. The offer had taken you by surprise, but you still felt elated. “Y-You mean it?”

“Course I do.”

A rush of excitement ran through you, and you couldn’t hold back a grin. “I-Thank you Mr Escuella. You’ve been so kind, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You ain’t gotta repay me chiquita.” He said fondly. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else, but stopped, looking you over. “Actually, there is one thing.”

“What is it?” You asked, curious and eager.

Mr Escuella smiled wider and leaned down so that he was at perfect eye level with you. “Just keep smiling. Do you think you can do that for me chiquita?”

It was certainly an odd request, but more than manageable. You had learned long ago how to smile when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to do. “I believe I can Mr Escuella.”

He chuckled, and sat back up. “Good.”

“Looks like we’re almost at that spot Hosea was talking about.”

You looked up at the back of Miss Grimshaw, and saw that you were all coming up to what appeared to be a well-trodden path, leading into a small patch of trees. It felt strange to see so many different types in one place, but in a welcoming and uplifting way. You smiled and sat up straighter, hoping to see more. “Thank Goodness.” You said.

“Hmm, I can’t see Arthur, Hosea and Charles.” Mr Escuella noted, looking over his shoulder. “I’m gonna hang back and wait for them, make sure they get back OK.” He looked back down at you. “Don’t forget what I said chiquita.” He grinned, and clicked his tongue, urging Boaz to turn around and go back down the path.

You couldn’t help but smile. ‘He’s so considerate and kind.’

Some giggles broke out behind you, and you turned around curiously. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” Miss Jones said breezily, with a twinkle in her eye that indicated very much the opposite.

(You felt your stomach churn.) 

“There’s a town not too far away right?” Miss Jones asked no one in particular

“Valentine I think Hosea said it was called.” Miss Jackson answered. “Real small cattle town.”

“I’ll take a small cattle town over those mountains any day.” Miss Gaskill said, and you couldn’t agree more.

Further ahead was a clearing atop a cliff, and it appeared to be just big enough for all of you. Miss Grimshaw pulled up at a far end of the clearing, and you watched as Mr Williamson and Mr Van Der Linde, who had both been steering wagons of their own, parked in different spots.

“Alright girls, let’s get to work.”

You and the other women all piled out of the wagon, and you noted Miss Jones groaning and Miss Jackson rolling her eyes as you did so.

“We need to start pitching tents.” Miss Grimshaw looked over at you and Sadie. “Do you two know how to do that?”

Sadie nodded. “I do, my daddy taught me.”

That seemed to please the older woman. “What about you [Name]?”

You immediately felt your cheeks flush hot. “I..I never...learned how to do that…” You looked down, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

“Then what can you do?”

“J-Just about anything else to help!” You said quickly, looking up again, desperate to appear helpful and eager and, above all, of use. “You know how I said my momma was a maid? I would help her sometimes. I-I got good at it.”

“She’s very good.” Sadie said, coming to your aid. “She has a steady hand when sewing, knows how to treat all sorts of stains, and she can cook very well.”

You smiled at Sadie, grateful for the help.

Miss Grimshaw looked you over with an uncomfortably enigmatic gaze. “Show her how to pitch a tent.” She said finally. “The sooner she learns that the better.”

“Yes Miss Grimshaw.”

You let out a deep breath. “Y-Yes Miss Grimshaw!” You quickly followed Sadie to the wagon where the other women had already gathered, getting out what you assumed to be materials to pitch up tents.

“Did that old Russian widow teach you magic or something?” Miss Jones asked with a twinkle in her eye, much like the one from earlier, and a smirk on her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Javier warm up to someone that quick.”

The other women giggled, and you flushed. “N-Not at all.” You said. “I-I’m sure that he just wants me to feel welcome.”

“Oh I bet he does.” Miss Jackson waggled her brows. “Or at least, welcome around him.” She burst into giggles, along with Miss Jones and Miss Gaskill.

“Alright girls that’s enough.” Miss Roberts interjected. “Don’t want to give Grimshaw an excuse to yell at us already.” She looked over at you and smiled kindly. “Don’t listen to them, they get bored easy and just wanna have something to entertain themselves with.”

You failed to see what could be so entertaining about this, but you appreciated Miss Roberts’s words nonetheless. “It’s alright.” You saw Sadie grabbing a bundle of materials and immediately went to her side to help. “So, what do we do?”

“Gotta find some good flat ground first.” Sadie inspected the surrounding area, before finding a patch that satisfied her. “Now we gotta make sure the frame is steady.”

She walked you through the steps slowly, adding clarification when you needed it. Knowing each other as long as you both had, she knew how to explain and teach things to you in a way that would make sense to you, so you were able to follow along and got the hang of it rather quickly.

“I don’t want you talkin’ to Escuella.”

You paused, turning away from the canvas to look at Sadie in surprise. “Why not? He’s very nice.”

“He’s an outlaw.” Sadie’s words were dripping with disdain and venom. “A thief and a killer.”

“And he’s been nothing but nice.” You pointed out. “He offered to teach me Spanish, that could be an invaluable skill Sadie.”

“Don’t matter, I don’t want you talking to him and that’s final.” She knotted the rope in her hands around a stake, with a bit more force than necessary in your opinion.

You sighed, kneeling beside Sadie. “That isn’t realistic and you know it.” You said in a low voice. “Besides, we need to be pragmatic about this.” You glanced around. “We’re outsiders Sadie. Everyone else knows each other, and there are already dynamics and relationships in place, so we need to form our own. The sooner we can endear ourselves to everyone here, the better.”

Sadie gritted her teeth. “These people aren’t like the rich, upper class types you’re used to.” She said pointedly. “They don’t play the same games or go by the same set of rules.”

“But they are human, and humans are social creatures.” You gently put a hand on Sadie’s arm. “If we can befriend a few of them, it’ll make life easier for us. I know you’re an expert on nature survival Sadie, but this is about social survival, and that’s entirely different.”

A silence hung between the two of you, and you let it, allowing Sadie time to think about what you had said. “Why do you always gotta be right.” She sighed heavily. “Alright. Fine. Be friendly. But not too friendly with the men. I don’t want none of them getting too close to you or being alone with you.”

“Deal.” You smiled and hugged Sadie. Truthfully, you never understood why she was so hesitant to allow men near you. After all, no man had ever expressed interest in you before, and why should they? There were always far better, more appealing options available.

“Not bad.” Miss Grimshaw appeared to be pleased and even a little impressed, especially since this was the first time you had ever put up a tent. She looked up at Sadie. “You can help Mary Beth and Tilly with setting up Arthur’s tent.” She then turned her attention to you. “And you can help Herr Strauss with his wagon. He seems to have taken a liking to you, so I doubt he’ll mind.”

“Yes Miss Grimshaw.” Despite yourself, you could feel your cheeks going a little pink at the revelation that Herr Strauss liked you. You felt relieved and happy to know that you had already formed at least one bond, and hopefully alliance, within the gang.

You and Sadie exchanged glances before going to your seperate jobs. Herr Strauss had just finished setting up a table when you approached, and he seemed to be looking for something in his wagon.

“Herr Strauss?” You said gently, not wanting to startle him too much.

Despite your precautions, Herr Strauss jumped a little, staring at you in surprise. “Mein Gott.” He said, a hand over his heart. “You’re certainly quiet aren’t you fräulein?”

You flushed a deep red. “S-Sorry.” You said bashfully.

“Oh it’s alright.” Herr Strauss smiled kindly at you, adjusting his glasses. “Did you need anything?”

“Actually, Miss Grimshaw told me that I should help you.” You looked at his wagon. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

This seemed to surprise him, but Herr Strauss smiled. “Yes actually. I need some help taking inventory of our medicines.” He carefully pushed aside some of the crates, revealing a slightly worn leather satchel, which he reached into and pulled what appeared to be a notebook out of it. “Just go through the crates one by one and tell me what you find and I’ll make a record.”

“Of course.”

You did as you were instructed, reading out each label clearly, and waiting for Herr Strauss to finish writing before moving on. You had also decided to group all of the tonics together in groups, one for the horses, and one for humans, before further dividing them by what it was they helped with-health, stamina, or concentration-and then their effectiveness; all of which you had gleaned from reading the labels, committing it all to memory.

“You’ve already started sorting them?”

“Oh, um, yes.” You looked down, fidgeting under Herr Strauss’s curious gaze. “I-I thought it would make things easier. I can rearrange them if there’s a particular way you want them sorted.”

“Oh no no! This is perfectly fine fräulein.” Herr Strauss said approvingly, his smile and gaze warm. He went back over his notes as he inspected the bottles, double checking to make sure everything had been properly accounted for. “You’ve done a very good job, and there aren’t any discrepancies, so all in all-”

“No! Mister! Wait!”

The sudden shouts made you jump, and you looked up, heart pounding, to see Mr Duffy being dragged to a tree not too far from where you were by Mr Williamson. “Wh-what’s Mr Williamson doing?” You asked shakily.

“Looks like he’s going to tie him to that tree.” Herr Strauss replied, shaking his head. “Poor boy. Can’t imagine he’ll last long without food and drink.”

“W-Wait.” You looked back at the older Austrian, wide eyed. “You’re not-I mean, we’re not-Mr Van Der Linde wouldn’t-”

“He would, and it appears that he has.” He assured you. “I understand that this is rather shocking, but it’s how things are done here. If Dutch says he ain’t eating or drinking, then that’s that.”

“I...I see…” You looked over at Mr Duffy, feeling immense pity. “How...how long will he be...tied up?”

“For as long as Dutch says.” Herr Strauss replied. He seemed to have caught the horrified look on your face, making him sigh. He gently put a hand on your shoulder and turned you away from Mr Duffy. “Fräulein, I know that this sort of thing is particularly...unpleasant for you, being as good and kind as you are. But I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it. Hopefully the boy will tell Dutch what he wants to hear sooner rather than later. Until then, we must follow Dutch’s orders. No food or water for the O’Driscoll.”

“Yes Herr Strauss.” You said quietly, trying very hard not to look back at Mr Duffy.

-

You helped Herr Strauss set up his own tent space and to arrange his things, and by the time you were both finished, the rest of the camp had been set up, and Mr Morgan, Mr Smith, and Mr Matthews had joined you all, and Mr Escuella with them. You couldn’t help but watch Mr Morgan as Miss Grimshaw escorted him to his tent. He moved with such easy confidence and self assuredness, that you couldn’t help but feel envious.You had no idea what it was like to feel like that, to move through the world without a single worry or care. All you ever did was worry and care.

You were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you heard Mr Van Der Linde speak. Everyone stopped what they were doing and formed a small crowd around him, listening intently, and you joined them. He was trying to raise morale, praising everyone for sticking by him, before urging everyone to pull their weight and help out. 

(You fidgeted a little at that, worried if you would be able to do that.)

Mr Pearson, now wearing a top hat, emphasized the need for food, asking for everyone to contribute something. You looked over at Sadie, who was standing with Miss Gaskill and Miss Jackson, and wondered if she would be allowed to hunt. You couldn’t see why not.

“And don’t forget, whatever you get, the camp gets a slice.” My Van Der Linde pulled out a shiny red box and placed it on top of a barrel outside his large tent.

You furrowed your brow and looked over at Herr Strauss. “What did he mean by that?”

“If you make any money then you need to put some into that box there.” He explained. “To help the camp pay for supplies and the like.”

“Oh. Like taxes?”

Herr Strauss chuckled. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Once Mr Van Der Linde was done, everyone dispersed and you rejoined the other women. “So, how long do you all usually stay in one place?”

“Depends.” Miss Jackson said. “If it’s a good spot and we lay low, then usually a good few months.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case here.” Miss Gaskill sighed. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve had enough of moving around.”

You couldn’t agree more, and you were about to say as much when something blue appeared in the corner of your eye. You turned to look and saw Mr Morgan, still wearing his big heavy coat, talking with Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews. For whatever reason, your full attention was on the three men, but Mr Morgan in particular. You took in his profile, his strong jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the firm set of his mouth. Did he ever smile? You hoped you would be able to see it.

“Stay away from him.”

You jumped, turning to see Sadie suddenly at your side, glaring at something. “W-What?”

“I said stay away from him.” It came out as an angry hiss, and when you followed her gaze you saw that it was focussed on Mr Morgan.

“But Sadie, he helped us-”

“I talked with Tilly and Mary Beth.” Sadie gave no indication that she had heard you, although you were certain that she did. “And they told me what kind of person Morgan is.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “What...what kind of person is he?”

“Exactly the kind I expected.” She finally tore her gaze away from Mr Morgan and onto you. “He uses force and kills even when not necessary. He’s a mean and sour bastard and I don’t want you around him. I know you feel like you owe him because of what he did, but you don’t. He didn’t do it out of the goodness of his own heart. If Dutch hadn’t been there he probably would’ve put a bullet in our heads.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have Sadie.” But even as you protested, you felt a chill go down your spine. “What would he have gained from it?”

“Men like him don’t need a reason to kill.” Her tone left no room for argument, so you decided not to. Instead you let her put her arm around you and lead you away to the area where the two of you, along with Miss Jones, Miss Jackson, and Miss Gaskill would sleep.

But you were able to sneak one last look back at Mr Morgan, watching as he smoked his cigarette, haloed in the light of the setting sun.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Forbidden Love | Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Pairing: Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Word count: 2291

The cameras turn your way as your feet strike the red carpet. Hoisting yourself out the car. You see the cameras point your way. For a moment, the flashes blur out your eyesight. From behind the barriers, you hear your name being called out from all over the place. The security guards keep the journalists and fans at bay while you strike a few poses on the red carpet. You give a couple of short interviews here and there. Tease a few interviewers and please the fans with selfies. You continue inwards.

The night was still young. You shook a lot of hands. First, a drink, meet the directors. Shake hands with the actors. Then followed the first screening with the stars present. You made sure to keep from the alcohol. You wanted to keep your voice cracking. Your fingers on point and tongue sharp. If it may come to it, you may have to perform at the after-party. And all the big stars were there. No mistakes were to be made.

Your song was used for a new movie. At first, it was ‘just' for a trailer. But quickly after they begged you to write a song, especially for the film. Superheroes were always a part of you since your childhood. The comics, the shows. The collectibles. It was an easy decision. No matter who the hero turned out to be. Or even if it turned out to be a one-shot. You were thankful to make a mark on such a franchise. And thus making you even bigger a star than you already were. You were grateful. Absolutely. But you couldn't listen to the radio. Every station was playing it. Spotify had your face plastered on every playlist. Internet ads kept coming up with your name. Billboards of the new film had your name written all over it. Even YouTube kept recommending your new song. There was no way around it.

The screening was a big success. A deafening round of applause followed as soon as the lights turned back on. That face… Your thoughts wander throughout the entire night. Shaking hands and meeting new people couldn't distract you from the itch at the back of your mind. Tom Holland. You wouldn't forget him. You couldn't. His name was practically everywhere. Just like yours. Only he was the lead actor in the film. And you knew him from something else. You were going to meet him again. Finally.

"Excuse me?" The words seemed to be coming from behind you as you bottom up the last bit from your drink. "(Y/N) (L/N)?" Goes the voice again.

Standing a few inches behind you stands the famous superhero actor you just watched on the big screen. Dressed in a black suit, sharp black shoes and his hair neatly shaped in a wave backwards. You haven't seen him all evening. But you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat. What a gentleman. A damn fine looking gentlemen at that. For a moment, you're captivated by his deep brown eyes. Not noticing he's handing you a drink. "Saw you were running low so…" Nudging you to glass.

"Thank you. I guess one can't hurt." Eyeing the yellow substance. The cold glass was a lovely welcome to your clammy hands. "RDJ keeps pushing me to sing tonight. So I gotta try to keep the booze low." Giving him a smile. You're startled for a moment. That feeling. You feel a flutter racing through your stomach. It's been years since you felt that. "Rumor has it, Mendes is waiting for me."

"I wouldn't mind for one." He compliments. Ringing his glass against yours. "Cheers!" Looking at you with hopeful eyes. A good moment to take a sip. As you notice your throat falling dry.

"Yeah… Mr. Holland. Too many more movies." Raising your glass.

"Hah! Are you practicing for a role as James Bond?" Tom's eyes roll up and down your outfit. "Cause that would mean serious competition for me." He smiles, looking back at you. He wasn't wrong. You are dressed to kill. The custom-tailored suit from Italy shaped your contours perfectly. Stunning handmade Italian leather boots, straight from Florence. Fitting together perfectly. It stood out from others, but not too flashy. Not to attract too much attention. The press had fished countless times who advised you on your choice of wardrobe. Who the lucky person was. If your mom still advises you. Because a single man couldn't dress so good like you did, someone had to be behind it.

"Who knows..." You grin. Taking a big gulp from the cold beer. You were there. You had seen the movie. Now Tom was standing right in front of you. And you couldn't think of anything to ask, nor say. You've had this strange feeling during the movie as well. It's more than awkward, as Tom seems to struggle just as much. Denying eye contact, rocking on his heels back and forth.

"-you like it?" You hear him call out, through the busy crowd. And somehow you feel tensed. Therefore missing part of his question.

"Yeah... Yeah- You look… stunning in your suit. Perfect for the role."

"I-I… I meant the movie." The red of his blushes color his face, as he scratches the back on his neck. " B-But, thank you."

"I'm sorry. I-... Eh I mean-" You trip over words one after the other. Not once in your career has it come to this. Not even on stage. You've had the nerves in the past. But this was different.

"-Yeah. Absolutely! These kinds of movies hardly disappoint. They've been my favorite since I was little. So…I'd love to have a signed poster one day. M-Maybe we can work something out." You feel your heart racing. Clammy hands. Sweaty armpits. You just ranted on and on. Tom just smiled and nodded. You're not even sure if he followed you. Your face probably looked like a tomato. As the heat shot through your body.

"Great! Great. Yeah… You ehm- I am flattered!" Tom's face looked the same. Giving you a sense of relief. "Actually, I'm kind of a big fan of yours. Loving your music." He smiles from ear to ear. He inches a bit closer to you. Leaning in. "Y-You think we can talk-" Tom's attention gets drawn to somewhere else. Instantly face palming the moment after.

"Finally got the guts, Tom?" You see two guys approaching towards you from the crowd. You recognized the faces immediately. Harrison and Jacob. Tom's best friends. Finally a breather you think.

"Hey! Nice meeting you, mate!" Harrison shaking your hand. "Hey man!" Jacob following. "This guy can't stop talking about you man." Jacob nudges Tom's shoulder. "He's a big-time fan of yours." The look on Tom's face was tensioned, biting his power lip as he tries to make Jacob shut up.

"Yeah! You told him about that-" Harrison jokes before being silenced by Tom's hand. "Enough guys… Please!" Shooting both a glance. Downing his pint in one go.

"Another round?" Harrison asks you, reaching for the other glasses of Tom and Jacob. You kindly refuse the drink. "You sure? You look like you could use one." Harrison jokes and heads to the bar.

"Has Jacob told you about his hate for your-" Tom smirks, leaning on Jacob's shoulder. "No dude!" He laughingly interrupts. "It's just…" His hands move in strange ways. As in ways of thinking of an excuse. A collection of bad reasons and excuses follow as Jacob tries to dodge the question more and more.

"You just can't stand it, mate!" Harrison's face pops up beside him. Holding a tray of pints. Jacob bellowing in laughter. Harrison following.

"Sorry man!" Tom calls to you. "They've been drinking." You follow in the laughter. No reason to be angry. Music is for everyone, and you can't please them all.

"Don't worry. I'm not that easily hurt." You try to comfort him. But instead, get a strange look from Tom. And at this point, you're not even sure what to think about it.

In the whole chat that follows, you get to know Harrison and Jacob a bit better. They share their stories and laughter about their travels. During the mess, the boys get a hold of Jacob's phone. It turns out he has several songs of you in his playlist. Breaking the ice between immediately.

"A shame you didn't visit the set." Harrison continues, trying to shift the focus of the conversation. "Tom and I were stoked when Kevin Feige told us."

"Same here, man. But touring schedules tend to change a lot."

"But you two never caught up? Tom mentioned he had your number from back at school." Harrison continues.

You cock your head a bit too fast towards Tom. Fixing your gaze on him. "Tom and I-..." You only manage to let out. Feeling the lump in your throat forming. "We… ehm-" Your heart beating like crazy against your ribcage.

"I assumed you guys text each other…" Harrison looks judgmental at the two of you. "But seeing your reactions. I guess not." At the same time, your eyes connect with Tom's. Seeing the hope in his eyes fade away.

"Excuse me..." As Tom darts away, pretending to be busy with his phone. You try to keep your attention to the conversation happening in front of you as Jacob and Harrison fall into a discussion. Chucking their beers like they're in a club on a Friday night. But you can't keep your eyes from Tom passing away in the distance. Your eyes follow him through the crowd. You see the frustration in his step. You know exactly what he is thinking. At first glance, the impression he was going to the toilet was quickly crossed off as he diverts onto the roof garden. Just before he heads through the door, you share a moment of eye contact.

You had to have a talk with him. You've had years to prepare for this. In the dimly lit evening light, you spot Tom. Arms crossed, leaning on the railing of the roof garden, glancing into the night sky. As you approach him, you catch a glimpse of his face, as he looks at you. Trying hard to fake a smile. "Hey…" He murmurs.

"Just like old times." You joke. But you get a disapproving glance from Tom.

"I'm not here for a guilt trip (Y/N)." He scowls as his brows knitted together in a frown.

"Sorry..." Taking place beside him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine..." He nods, keeping his gaze fixed to the horizon. "You're not worried that people might see us here?"

"As long as we're not kissing." You pat hit shoulder. "I think we're fine." A small smile forms on his pretty face. But that was short and sweet before his head hangs downcast again. "So… Why are we here?"

Once again, his fingers forked through his long brown curls. Releasing a trembling sigh. "It's been a while…"

You cross your arms and lean backwards against the railing. Hoping to get a glimpse of Tom's face. "You're talking about the kiss or…?" Trying to lighten to mood a little.

A small chuckle escapes his lips, followed by a long sigh as his eyes run along the railing. "You know, I…" Shaking his head to and through. For a moment, you catch a shimmering in his eyes. "Things have changed… For the both of us."

"We went our separate ways, Tom. It happened. We were young."

"Yet in all those years, we never reached out to each other."

"I think we both had our reasons." You let the moment sink in. Hoping Tom would answer it. "Didn't we?"

The only reaction you get is a simple smile. "You ever think about back then?"

"I do…" And you can't help but smile at his question. Did you ever think back about that time? Those were the simpler days. And you feel you're on the same wavelength as Tom, as that short answer managed to bring back a smile on his face. "But mostly about the things I regret saying." Tom just nods, there was something in the air you just can't put your finger on. "And you?" You ask.

"No regrets about the things you didn't do?" He quips before even thinking about your question. A moment of silence follows. Only the faint noise of music and chattering in the distance can be heard. The question itself sinks in. You can't help but peak back once in a while to check if no one had sneaked up on the two of you. But that question kept burning.

"What are you-"

"You're dodging the question, (Y/N)." He interrupts.

"I'm not sure what you're going for, Tom." You chuckle lightly, reaching for the card in your tuxedo. "But I have a feeling…" You grin while taking a step closer to him. A smirk was appearing on his face. "Here." You hold it up between your pointy finger and middle finger. "Enter the club and show this to the manager." You feel the nervous flutters in your system go in overdrive. His eyes sparkle as he keeps his full attention on you. Vigorously nodding to every word you say. "The rest follows itself." You give him a reassuring smile and pat him on the shoulder. "Room 702. Don't forget." And you take off, heading back for the party.

"Wait!" Tom calls out. "Does that mean…?"

"I want to find out as well, Tom." You say. "Be there… tonight." You give him a wink before you continue onwards.

"Can't we just leave?!" You hear Tom shakenly call out in the distance. "L-Like, right now?!" You shake your head while walking away from him.

A/N: Not the usual quality I’m afraid. But this will get a second part though. (With much-requested smut involved.) Take care!

[wellhellotragic]

Dead in the Water (2/2)

Here is its guys, the epic conclusion to this fic, all inspired by @clockadile’s​ amazing work (just wait until you see her second piece!!!!). I hope you all enjoy it. I’ve had a lot of fun plotting this out with Clock, even if writing it was like pulling teeth at times. My own fault to be certain. It’s a bit strange to know this is the end of my fic writing, but I couldn’t have asked for a better event to go out on. Thank you again to @csrolereversal​ for putting this all together.

Summary:

Killian Jones may have just had the worst year of his life. The loss of his hand, of his career, and of his pride were almost more than he could take. In a bid to reclaim his life, Killian decided it was time to face his fears, and get back on the metaphorical horse, or in his case, back on the water. Only, the purchase of a haunted second-hand boat may just come at the cost of his sanity.

“The sea is like a cruel mistress. You can love her, you can hate her, but you can never trust her.” - author unknown

A/N: Just to warn readers, this is were the fic earns it’s mature rating for violence. It’s not discussed in extreme detail, but some people may find it upsetting.

Rating: M (foul language sprinkled in and some adult themes)

Also on AO3

 Fall turned to winter and winter to spring. The leaves fell, littering the streets, only to be replaced by mountains of snow, which eventually melted off leaving a mess of sludge behind. The city kept going somehow. But The Jolly remained untouched for months, still left barely tied to the dock.

 Killian hadn’t actually been out to check on her since his frightening encounter. Wasn’t even rightfully sure if she was still there. He’d been too spooked at first. Then too busy with work. 

 But by the time March came around, things at work had slowed a bit, and Killian began to wonder about that day. Months had passed and his memory just a little foggy. Had he really seen anything at all? Or had his mind just twisted something up? Like awakening from a dream and not knowing what was real or not. He’d been through so much in the year and a half before. It hardly would have been the first time he’d imagined seeing things.

 By April he was all but convinced that the entire thing had been one huge figment of his imagination and was ready to give sailing another go. Starting with just a small trip out to build his courage, Killian waited until well after sunrise, hoping the extra hours of daylight would provide a slight respite from the chill still in the air. He didn’t even bother packing food as his plan was to not go so far out that he couldn’t see the marina. 

 The Jolly was still there, something he found slightly surprising as the winter waves had been known to blow sailboats clear down the shoreline and he’d barely tossed the rope around the deck cleat. She was also a little worse for the wear. Her sails a bit dirty and tattered around the edges. Soot from the melted snow covered her decks. But she was still afloat, and really, that was the best he could have hoped for.

 He did his routine checks, making sure that she was sailable before pushing off, letting the gentle breeze guide her out to sea. He made it about a mile out, just able to still make out the apexes of the ships moored near his spot, and waited. For what exactly he wasn’t sure, but still, he waited for nearly an hour. 

 The time that passed could only be described as unremarkable. No oddities happening around the boat, no spooky sounds, and no ethereal visions. She was just a boat like any other and just as before, he’d imagined the whole thing. 

 After bringing her in and properly tying her up, he went to work on setting her to rights. Scrubbing the decks, replacing the frayed ropes, and tending to the sails. The headsail was easily salvageable, but the mainsail needed replacing after leaving it half rolled up. Water and dirt settling in the loose packing, icing over and weighing against it. He knew better, but he’d been in such a state that he hadn’t cared at the time.. He’d have to order a new one before he set out again.

 Having eased his mind a bit, the next week went by for Killian in a blur. He’d ordered the new sail as soon as he’d arrived home, and luckily the company he’d purchased from was local to Boston and agreed to let him pick it up directly from their store rather than having it shipped.

 Liam seemed a bit shocked at Killian’s previous reluctance to sail, but seemed even more surprised by his sudden determination to start up again. While he didn’t offer to go sailing with Killian again, he did insist that Killian call him before setting sail and after returning just to know that everything was ok. 

 For his part, Killian agreed, still not having told his brother of his previous difficulties with the lack of wind, nor of the ghoul he’d seen onboard. Not that it mattered much as it had all been a figment of his imagination. A haunted nightmare caused by the trauma of his past.

 As Saturday approached, Killian found himself excited for the first time in months. He’d planned a trip to Nantucket Island. He’d never been there but by all accounts it was a lovely little place. It was the Brant Point Lighthouse that had really caught his attention though. Online, it was the quintessential image of New England, and he wanted to see it in person. 

 By his estimations, it was roughly a three hour trip, a tidbit that only caused him to second guess his plan for a few minutes as the theme song to Giligan’s Island played in his head. 

  A three hour tour…

 Once he’d reclaimed a better hold over his sanity though, he finished planning his exact route, making sure to send a copy of his plans off to Liam, just in case.

 He woke up early that morning, ready to replace the mainsail himself before setting off. There was still a bite in the air that left him searching for a sweater and his trusty leather jacket. The one Liam had gifted him just before his first assignment. He even grabbed the gold compass locket from the drawer he’d hid it in after his scare, not having wanted anything around at the time to remind him of that event. Now though, knowing that he’d imagined it all, he felt it only proper to wear it for his first true journey on The Jolly.

 It was dark when he arrived to the marina, only the very first hint of light breaking over the horizon. It took longer than expected to get the old sail off, the fabric having fused to the lines over the past months. He’d had to cut some parts off, letting his hook do most of the work while his other hand just followed behind, pulling at the tattered scraps. Eventually the sun rose, the morning light turning from red to orange to yellow. 

 The sky filled with the lightest shades of blue as he worked on installing the new sail. He was just about finished tying off the last of it when he felt something, a shadow pass over him. Checking the sky above him, he found no clouds. Just an empty blue sky. He closed his eyes, willing his mind not to fail him again, to seize control over himself. But when he opened them again, the shadow was still there. A woman’s silhouette framed in the mainsail he’d just attached. Her hand pressed against it as if she was reaching out to him. 

 He swallowed thickly, willing the figure to go away, but it didn’t. He froze once again, waiting for it to pass, mentally repeating the mantra his therapist had given him for just such occasions, but no matter how long he waited, the shadow remained.

  “Who..who’s there?”

 He waited for what seemed like an eternity before he heard it again. The anguished cries, this time less distorted, but just as upsetting.

 “Get out!”

 That time he didn’t freeze; He didn’t wait for it to disappear. No. That time he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, despite cries from other people milling around yelling at him to slow down. He got in his truck and drove home just as quickly as he could, locking the door behind him and grabbing a bottle of rum he’d stashed in the cabinet above his freezer.

 Everything after that was a bit hazy. The next morning he woke to find he’d texted Liam, telling him he was sick and would be out the whole next week. Something he didn’t remember having done.

 He spent the entirety of Sunday held up in his apartment, watching bad cable tv programming, hiding from the world. Eight binge hours later, somewhere between Snapped and Homicide Hunter, Killian had a realization. If the spooks only ever happened on the boat, naturally, it stood that it must have been related to whatever happened before he bought The Jolly. It likely happened to the previous owner and that’s why he got such a deal on her.

 He had to wait until the next day to contact Ariel’s Antiquities. They were insistent that the info they’d given him before was accurate. That the ship was repossessed from the previous owner for non-payment, but when pressed for details on the who the previous owner, they dodged his questions. Something just didn’t feel right. More determined than ever to uncover the truth, Killian turned to the internet, hoping that perhaps the original owner had registered the ship somewhere. His search of Boston and greater Massachusetts provided nothing. Eventually he stumbled on a national website that guaranteed to prove a comprehensive history report for only twenty dollars. Fortyfive dollars if he wanted addresses as well.

 And that was how Killian found himself spending an indecent amount of money on a website called The Hulltruth. It took about thirty minutes before the report was emailed to him, but when it came in, he found that the boat was registered in Storybrooke, Maine and reported missing. The rest of the report was limited, just telling him that the boat hadn’t been in any previous accidents. No address, no name. Just that she was missing.

 Of course he’d allowed himself into being swindled. Who else was lucky enough to purchase a stolen boat but him? With his full wrath backing him, Killian found the auction house’s office address and stormed there, ready to raise hell over his stolen second hand haunted boat. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the only person there airing a grievance. 

 A woman was there, arguing with one of the auction curators. As it turned out, the first edition one of a kind copy of Her Handsome Hero was not the two hundred year old book the house had promised. It was actually a well crafted replica. Despite the letter from an expert that the young woman had brought with her, the staff declared that all sales were final and sent her on her way. Killian wasn’t discouraged though, knowing he had the law on his side. 

 It took time, and there were threats made, but Killian finally discovered that the Jewel of the Realm had been found off the remote coast of Kittery Point, Maine by one of the auction house’s salvagers. Apparently a number of the items sold there under than label of authentic antiques were actually salvaged on abandoned beaches. Items lost or washed to shore. 

 The auction house brought the boat back to Boston and sold it as soon as possible rather than report it as found. They tried to claim that since the boat had been abandoned, that it wasn’t technically theft. When pressed about the damage to the boat, they conceded that while the hole had been there when they found it, they were the ones that removed the guts of the boat to make it a more appealing purchase. They told him that the wood was badly stained and they didn’t want buyers poking around trying to figure out what happened. A pointed remark towards him to be sure.

 He left with no more answers, aside from the knowledge that The Jolly wasn’t stolen in the middle of the night from a different marina. Or at least so they said. Killian prided himself of behind able to read people, and while the man, Sebastian, had shown a range of emotions, he never appeared to be lying. 

 The next morning he was still unsettled, not really knowing what happened. Especially given that in her current state, the boat was unusable. He wasn’t going on it just to be frightened within an inch of his life again. The human heart could only take so much. Plus there was the added thrill of the mystery, not that he’d call what was happening a thrill in anyway.

 But he needed to know. He needed to find the previous owner, to ask them if they’d had problems too. 

 That morning Killian packed up his car and headed up interstate ninety five, ready to get his answers. The report he’d bought didn’t have an address, but considering that there was a missing boat report, the local sheriff's station seemed like a good place to start. He’d spent the three hour drive coming up with a cover story. Telling them he’d bought the missing boat wouldn’t accomplish anything. They would simply seize it from him and then cut him out.

 So instead he decided it would be best if he claimed to be a reporter, working on a story about a string of boat thefts along the northern coastline. That he was trying to see if they were connected. He’d even gone so far as to look for missing boats online while he stopped for gas. He thought of everything, was prepared for every eventuality, except for the one he got.

 Storybrooke was a small quaint town. There were a few people milling about, but as he pulled up to the station, he found himself to be the only car in the parking lot. Slightly worried that he’d find the station locked up, he was surprised that the door was in fact unlocked. The building was small, just a short hallway separating the outside from a large room housing three empty desks. Along the back wall there were two holding cells, also empty. The place seemed to be deserted until he heard a shuffle coming from around the corner.

 “Hello?”

 “Just a sec!”

 I took a moment, but eventually a tall blonde man in jeans and a button down appeared, offering him a handshake. He introduced himself as David Nolan, town sheriff. Killian gave him the reporter backstory and asked if he had some time to talk. He noticed the way the man stiffened a bit as they walked to his office, but the man made no comment. Just led him into another room where he offered him a seat across the desk from his own.

 Killian started out vague, just talking about how he was an investigative reporter out of Boston, where they’d experienced a string of boat thefts recently, and he wanted to see if they were in any way related to an uptick of reports stretching through Maine. When he was done, there was nothing but silence as Sheriff Nolan simply looked down at his desk, his hand grabbing a photo frame and clutching it closer to his chest. 

 In time, with a wrecked voice, the man finally spoke. 

 “The report you’re asking about. It wasn’t a boat theft.”

 “Come again? The report listed it as missing.”

 “There’s more than one way a boat can disappear Mr. Jones.” The sheriff gave him a sad smile, passing over the photo. It was a picture of him with another woman. “Her name is Emma. Was Emma.”

 Over the next twenty minutes Sheriff Nolan explained to Killian that Emma, a beautiful woman, was his sister. His adopted sister, but family none-the-less. She was a family lawyer in Boston, specializing in divorces and custody issues. 

 Emma’s job was extremely stressful, angry parents, threatening phone calls, so on the weekends she’d sail up the coast to Storybrooke to visit family. The alone time allowed her to decompress. To let the weight of the world fall from her shoulders.

 About a year and a half earlier, just around the same time Killian found himself waking up in the hospital, Emma disappeared. It was a holiday weekend and she’d come up to visit her brother and sister in law. She’d stayed with them for a few days before packing up and heading back. The sheriff explained how he’d begged her to stay for one more day, that there was a storm coming, but Emma had insisted that she’d be ahead of it. That nothing would happen.

 And no one ever saw her again. The ship had disappeared too and the assumption was that she’d been caught in the storm and been lost to the sea. They’d searched for weeks, David calling in every favor he could think of, but for all of the searching they never found Emma or The Jewel. The case still remained open, but only as a technicality. 

 The drive home, all Killian could think about was David, and how much pain he was in. He’d wanted to comfort the man, to tell him that his sister’s boat had been found just down the shoreline, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk losing The Jolly before he’d figured out what happened, and more than that, he couldn’t risk giving David false hope. Not after he’d seen the photograph. The flowing blonde hair, emerald eyes. Not when he knew that the woman in that photograph was the same thing that kept appearing to him.

 When he got home, the first thing he did was look up Emma on the internet. She was in fact a family lawyer at Goldman and Mills, a prestigious firm based in Boston. By all accounts she was sharp, with a high success rate. Most of the hits he found were news reports from some of her higher profile cases. 

 Finally, on page three of his search, he found an article from the Storybrooke Mirror about her disappearance. It was just as the sheriff had said. The working theory was that something had gone horribly wrong and she’d most likely tipped and sank during the storm, too far off the coast, it was assumed that Emma sunk with the ship. All of which would explain why she was now haunting the Jolly. 

 He wasn’t crazy. His mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. 

 But he did have a haunted ship to deal with.

 He waited until Thursday to return to The Jolly, giving himself two full days to build his courage. The plan was to stay ashore, unsure of what might happen. He was ready to confront Emma, or whatever it was that looked like her, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get through to her, or if she was just a demonic apparition, tied to the boat forever. He really shouldn’t have researched spirits.

 The marina was empty when he arrived. Most people were at work or already gone for the day. He supposed that may have been for the best. Killian’s ego was bruised enough without a large portion of Boston watching him scream like a young girl.

 The Jolly seemed just as empty as it had when he’d bought her, but by now he knew better. She was there, somewhere, lurking. He just wasn’t sure how to reach her. There’d never been one thing that seemed to spark her arrival. The first time he’d been stuck at sea, and the second, he’d been docked simply replacing the mainsail.

 “Emma?” Nothing “Emma Swan?”

 Still, nothing happened, so he waited, taking a seat on the deck. He waited, and waited, her ghostly form never appearing. Not until the moment the locket slipped out from behind his button up shirt.

 “That’s mine!”

 He looked up to find her, Emma, before him, hovering above a wooden plank, a small puddle of water filling the deck below her.

 “Get out!”

 She said the same words just as before, but this time it was different. Gone where the unearthly voices he’d heard echoing around him. Instead, it was just one voice. Just her.

 “Are you Emma Swan?”

 He watched as her head tilted to the side, a glimmer of recognition at the name filling her wide eyes. Then fear. Unabating fear.

 “Help me!”

 That was all she said before she collapsed onto the deck, her form turned into a cloud of smoke, blowing away into the wind leaving behind only the puddle of water. He waited for hours after that, but she never appeared again. 

 He went home, discouraged. He had no idea how to summon her. Not that he necessarily had any idea of what he was trying to accomplish. Did he want to help her move on? Did he just need to find out what happened so he could give David Nolan some closure. Did he just want his ship back?

 That night he tried to answer those questions. While it would be nice to have The Jolly ghost free, it was something more than that. He felt drawn to it, to her in a way. Finally, as he tossed and turned in bed, he realized what it was. She was in pain, just as he so often was, and while he couldn’t fully mend himself, he might be able to help her. To ease her burden in a way.

 The next morning, he went down to the docks first thing, calling for her just as he had before. Met with silence once more, he sat, trying to mull over what could possibly help him. Thinking back on his research, some people claimed that spirits were attracted to objects, but the only object he could see Emma being attached to was the boat herself. There was nothing else left on the ship that belonged to her. 

 Nothing except the locket.

 It was the first thing she’d mentioned the day before, claiming it was hers. He reached below the collar of his shirt, feeling for the chain and slowly pulling until the gold locket was fully exposed. But still, she did not appear. Desperate, he clutched the charm in his hand and chanted her name.

 “I told you, that’s mine!”

 She sounded less angry that time. Less confused as well as her feet seemed to actually touch the deck. 

 “Aye. I found it while I was repairing the boat.”

 He did his best to keep his voice low and calm, not wishing to frighten her away. 

 “Repairs?”

 “Yes. I had to replace the mast.” He watched as she scrunched her nose. “Do you remember what broke it?”

 Her entire form stiffened, her chest heaving. “No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.”

 “Emma, it’s alright. You’re safe here.”

 “Please” She just looked at him with desperation as her hand moved to her stomach. “It hurts so bad. Make it stop.”

 Drip. Drip. Drip. He heard it before he saw it, but blood began to flow down her ivory sundress, covering the deck of The Jolly. Killian leapt to his feet, trying to help her staunch the bleeding but before he could get there, she was gone, and the wood planks were dry, as if nothing had happened.

 He went out every day for the rest of the week, never taking the boat to sea, but always waiting for Emma, summoning her with the necklace. She only ever stayed for seconds to minutes, but each time she became a little more aware that something was wrong. 

 As Monday came though, he found himself stuck at work late, night after night. Dinner parties with potential clients. Drinks to celebrate newly signed clients. Liam’s company and his position kept him too busy to go down to the docks at all that week.

 It wasn’t until Saturday that he was able to see her again. This time he took the boat out to sea, hoping that maybe a change of scenery might help to bridge the gap between wherever Emma was and the here and now. Once he was about two miles out he held the compass in the palm of his hand, calling to her once more. She came to him immediately, with more solidity than ever before. He spoke with her for a while, telling her who he was. When she vanished that time it was calmly. No screams of pain, no violence, no fright. Just peacefully.

 He took the boat back to shore, tying her up properly. He’d promised Liam and Elsa he’d spend the day with them Sunday. Liam had started to worry about him after he took the week off of work, and he knew that if he didn’t concede to family time, Liam would start poking around. He wasn’t ready to explain it to his brother yet.

  Yes, Liam. I’ve been spending all of my free time trying to talk to the ghost that lives on my boat.

 That would have gone over marvelously.

 So another week passed in full before he was able to see Emma again. Every time he saw her she was able to stay a little longer. To talk a little more. They hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room, sticking to safe topics instead. Her job. His job. She told him about some of her more eclectic clients, always using the present tense. He told her about the cougar he’d had to wine and dine the weekend before. He wasn’t sure how much control she had over herself and he didn’t want to risk upsetting her again.

 Months passed, each weekend spent as sea. It was nice, just being able to talk to someone so openly. She never seemed to judge him. In time, he found himself rather vexed by her. She had witt and spunk. Just a little bit prickly but in a good way. A kindred soul.

 It was a warm July morning when it happened.

 “Killian?”

 “Yes, love?”

 He wasn’t sure when he’d started using the term of endearment around her, but she’d never objected to it.

 “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

 He nearly choked on his coffee, not expecting it in the slightest. She’d been so upbeat for the past few weeks, as if she’d had no cares in the world. He never would have guessed that she’d been considering her mortality.

 “How long have you known?” 

 “Since the beginning maybe? I don’t know. I can just feel it, like I don’t belong here.”

 His heart broke for her. He couldn’t imagine the feeling of knowing that her life was over. That everything was finished in a way, but that she was still stuck.

 They didn’t speak. Just stood together in silence watching the horizon. His hand slid closer to hers, his pinky reaching out to caress her hand, but instead he just moved right through her. If she didn’t know before, there was no way she didn’t now.

 Emma didn’t come to him the next day. Somehow he knew that she was in mourning, that she needed time for herself. It made his heart break all over. He felt for her in a way he hadn’t felt for someone in a long time. Not since Milah. 

 It was a week before he went out again, this time bringing flowers with him. She couldn’t keep them, but he hoped it would be nice for her just to see them. To know they were for her. She was solemn when she appeared. Not surprising given the state of things. 

 The two of them exchanged pleasantries and spent the day just soaking each other in, not speaking more than a few words here and there. It was nice in a way, but he craved more. 

 She enchanted him.

 “Killian?”

 “Yes?”

 “May I ask what happened to your hand?”

 It was another question he wasn’t prepared for. It was somehow easier and harder to answer. Something he never talked about with anyone, but something he found himself willing to share with her. So she could know him better in a way.

 So he told her. He told her how he was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. How he’d risen through the ranks, dedicated his entire life to the service of his country. Of how he’d been on a routine training mission that went horribly wrong. The mine field they were doing maneuvers through was supposed to be dead, all a simulation. But one of the mines was live, and the ship exploded. He woke up in the hospital after spending an entire night clinging for dear life to a barrel. His hand was gone and so was his career. That he had night terrors and had to see a therapist because he’d lost his hold on reality.

 He left out the part about his girlfriend being so disgusted by the stump that she left him, that she took a transfer just to get away from him. 

 When he looked at Emma again, he expected to see pity in her eyes, but there was none. She just gave him a nod of understanding. 

 They watched birds fly by. The sun moved from one side of the sky to the other. Just a peaceful silence, until she spoke again.

 “I think I was murdered.”

 “That’s not what everyone said happened. The newspapers, they said it was the storm.”

 “There was a storm, but I remember a man too. It’s hazy, like an old dream. But he was there, below deck, hiding I think. I- I went down below and he was there. I remember screaming at him to get out, but he didn’t.”

 She continued to recount the details she could remember, or that she thought she remembered. Her memories of that night where muddled and she didn’t know how much of it was true.

 The man below deck was familiar, but she couldn’t quite remember what his face looked like. He smelled of wood, or maybe it was just the boat that did. She remembered being attacked, thrown against the hull, hearing a crack. There was a fight, she tried her best to fend him off, but it wasn’t enough. She remembered being thrown against the fiberglass again and again, hearing the hull fail. Glass from a mirror slicing through her stomach. The rest was a blur for her. The man was gone, and she tried to climb to the deck but her body was broken. She made it to the radio, but there was only static. Water began to fill the cabin, and it took everything she had to force herself up, to pull herself above deck as the storm raged on. Each droplet of water that fell feeling like acid against her battered skin. She told him how she held on as long as she could, and that was it. That was all she remembered. 

 She’d been murdered, just like she said. It explained the damage to the hull, why the mast had snapped, the stains on the wood the auction house had removed. 

 He had nothing to say. No words to offer her. His problems were nothing in comparison. Someone had taken her life, with purpose and malice. And now she was trapped in two worlds, belonging in neither, unable to move on. 

 He wished nothing more in that moment than to hold her. To be able to wrap his arms around her and block out all of the pain. To take away her sorrow and to give her hope. To let her know she didn’t deserve to die that way. That she didn’t deserve any of it. 

 But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do any of that. She wasn’t really there. She wasn’t solid. He’d never be able to so much as hold her hand. 

 A knife through his heart. 

 And that’s when he realized the true depths of his feelings for Emma. He was in love with her. He was in love with a ghost.

 And all he could do was to be her friend. Her confidant. 

 “Where do you go when you aren’t here?”

 It was a question that had plagued him since the beginning of their friendship, and while he was afraid to hear the answer, he needed to know that she was safe when he wasn’t there.

 “Nowhere?” She turned her head up towards the top of the mast. “I think I just stop existing.”

 That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. He was glad that she wasn’t in some realm being tortured but the idea of her just being gone? That was almost as bad. He went home that night thinking of her. Of what it would be like.

 He knew. He didn’t want to admit it, not when his feelings for her had grown so strong, but he was being selfish, calling her back to a world where she was nothing more than an apparition over and over. He needed to let her go. To help her find a way to move on. He just didn’t know how, short of finding her killer.

 She remembered nothing about the man though, only that he was a man. And Killian had no experience in investigating murders. It was a dead end.

 He continued to think on it all week at work, even through the weekend. He didn’t go out on The Jolly that weekend, or even the next, still debating if it was more cruel to leave Emma alone, or to force her to face her death again and again. 

 August passed, and into September. Still he stayed away, unable to torture Emma any more than he already had. It wasn’t until someone at work had brought up the fight she’d had with her boyfriend, how he always made the decisions for her, that he realized that was exactly what he’d done. He’d never bothered to ask Emma what she wanted. He just assumed that it was worse for her when she was with him. 

 That was enough to ignite a flame under him. He left work early, driving out to the docks. The sky was scattered with clouds but there was still enough light out for a quick trip to sea. 

 He didn’t bother with his usually checklist or sending Liam a text on where he was going, too eager to see her face again. To talk to her and find out just what she wanted. To ask how he could help her, if she even wanted help.  

 The wind had picked up significantly from the time he’d left, sending him out farther than he’d planned, but he didn’t care. Not when all he could think of was Emma. The sky a bit more grey now, a slight shower starting. 

 “Emma? Are you here?”

 He waited, clutching the compass so hard the metal around his neck snapped. He’d ripped the chain. 

 “You broke it.”

 She was annoyed, but he honestly couldn’t tell if it was from the jewelry or from him having abandoned her. 

 “I, I’m sorry. I’ll replace it as soon as I get back to land.”

 He wanted to talk to her, but she was too focused.

 “My brother gave me that when I started at my firm. He was worried I’d become a corporate stooge. He gave it to me so that I’d never get lost.”

  So you always find your way.

 “I’m so sorry, Emma.” 

 “You can’t replace it.”

 Killian wanted to cry, to scream, to go back in time and meet her before any of this started. But he’d never been a lucky man that way.

 He held his hand out, watching as small drops of water fell into the gold face. Emma walked over, letting her fingers graze over the metal. It was different that time, he could feel the weight of her hand. She didn’t simply pass through him. He watched as she took the compass in her hand, solid as could be. 

 “Swan?”

 Her head snapped up at him, completely unaware that she was real enough to hold an object.

 He reached out, letting his knuckles caress her face. He could feel the warmth of her skin. She was real. He didn’t know how, but she was real. 

 “Killian? How? How is this possible?”

 He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He nuzzled his forehead against her own, their lips only a hair’s width apart. When she didn’t pull back, he leaned in, softly pressing his mouth to hers. Just a peck. Her lips were soft. He tried to pull back but her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tightly. 

 They may as well have kissed for an eternity. He loved the feeling of being lost in her, not caring that the light sprinkle had turned into a full on downpour. That his clothes were soaking wet. Lighting flashed, illuminating the sky, and thunder crackled above them.

 But he didn’t care. Not with Emma in his arms.

 They broke apart finally, Emma’s laugh filling the air. 

 “Emma Swan. I’m in love with you.”

 He hadn’t meant to just blurt the words out. Hadn’t meant to say them at all, but his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. Forever passed as he waited for her to say something. Anything.

 “Killian,” there was sorrow, and he knew she wasn’t going to return his feelings. “It’s not fair to you. I’m a ghost, and I can’t control anything. You, you deserve so much more than I can give you!”

 “But you’re here. I can feel you clear as I can feel my heart beating in my chest.”

 She wasn’t there though. She could sense it even if he couldn't. There was a pull on her still, from whatever place she’d come from. Even in solid form, she didn’t belong there.

 Lightening and thunder filled the sky once more, darkness all around them.

 “Killian, it’s not safe out here, you need to go.”

 He looked around, realizing for the first time just how far out the wind had blown him, would continue to blow him if he didn’t stow the sails. Emma helped his as best she could, but with the waves now throwing the boat back and forth, they had trouble controlling their movements. 

 The Jolly was still heading in the wrong direction though. Killian felt fairly confident that he could weather the storm below deck, waiting for it to pass, but the growing waves continued to batter the boat and Emma pleaded with him not to stay. Begging him to return to land. He caved, heading to the back of the boat to start up SMEE, but no matter how hard he tried, the motor wouldn’t budge. 

 Unable to do anything else, Killian headed back to the cabin, trying to call for help, but the radio wouldn't work either. It was just static on every channel. As he hit the main box, sparks flew into the air. The Jolly swayed from side to side, getting closer and closer to tipping each time. 

 They both went back above deck to see just how bad the storm was. There was only darkness as far as the eye could see. They were trapped. He was trapped. 

 Dead in the water.

 “Emma, love, I have some life vests stowed in one of the front compartments. Go grab them and I’ll try the radio again.”

 “No.”

 “What?”

 She stood at the rail, closing her eyes and breathing it all in, calm for the first time since the storm had started.

 “It’s me.”

 “I don’t understand. Just go get the life vests. We’re going to be okay.”

 “No, Killian. It’s me. All of this. The faulty electronics, The storm. I don’t understand it, but I can just feel it. It’s, I feel it in my bones.”

 “No. No. Emma-”

 “Killian, you have to let me go. It’s the only way.”

 “But I just got you. I don’t know how to let you go.”

 She smiled at him, a sad heart wrenching smile and gave him a light kiss. 

 “It’s ok.” She held out the compass. “I think I can find my way now.”

 It was the locket.

 The thing that she was tethered to. It had never been The Jolly. The boat had simply been a means for her to stay and find it. 

 “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

 “You’ll find a way.” She gave him one last kiss. “I love you too.”

 And with that, she turned back into a vision, a veil between them. One last flash of light and she was gone.

 Just as she’d said, as soon as she left the boat sprung back to life. The motor revving behind him. The waves continued to beat against the hull of the ship. He was frozen, his heart torn to shreds. But he couldn’t let that be the end. He couldn’t let her have died, again, in vain, so he pulled himself together. He used the motor to push him through, steering himself back towards land, any land.

 He was lost after that. Spending days in bed, unable to get up, to do anything but cry. Her absence haunted him in a way she never had. Loneliness followed him. Emptiness filled him. Weeks went by. Liam did his best to get Killian out of the house, to bring him back to life. He knew his brother was worried, but he just didn’t have it in him to care anymore.

 With time though the sting, still there became just a little less. The pain in his heart became a little more manageable. Everything just became less in a way, less and more. He made it out of bed. He had dinner with Liam. He even was able to go back to work. 

 He still felt her loss, but it got easier. However something still tugged at him. An inkling that something wasn’t quite finished. He was in pain, but at least he had closure. Emma did too, but her family didn’t. They still didn’t know what happened to her. 

 He debated on the best way to tell them, how to give David the details without including the part where he fell in love with the man’s sister’s ghost. Eventually, he decided that it would be best to do it over the phone. That way he could control the conversation.

 He waited until just after noon on a Monday, calling the Sheriff’s station in Storybrooke, hearing the familiar voice of David Nolan pick up. He didn’t give David his name, just that he had information of the disappearance of Emma Swan. That her boat had been found by a company named Ariel’s Antiquities. That the auction house had destroyed all of the evidence on the boat so they could sell it. 

 David tried interrupting him, asking how he knew any of it, but Killian pushed through, finally giving the man the most important part, telling David that he was sorry, but that Emma had been murdered by a man familiar to her. He apologized for not being able to give him more information and then he hung up.

 He could only hope that it was enough to give David some form of peace. That maybe it would be easier to know for sure that she was gone. Because sometimes the cruelest thing in the world was hope.

 Time continued to pass. The pain in his heart turned to an ache. He still missed her deeply and thought of her often, but she’d given him something. She’d healed him, and nothing could take that away. It had taken him a while to realize it, to accept her loss. But her death didn’t negate the fact that she’d brought him back to life, and everyday he thanked her for that. Choosing to focus on the good rather than the bad.

  A year had passed. Exactly three hundred and sixty five days without her. His plan was to head to Robin’s and have one drink in Emma’s memory before heading to the docks to take the Jolly out. She was still there, a part of her in those old wood planks. He could feel her warmth in every inch of that old boat.

 Robin’s was overcrowded though, so he skipped the drink. Emma didn’t need an alcoholic toast. So he headed straight to the Jolly instead, stepping out of the pub’s doors just before the headlines changed, the little ticker tape running across the screen blocking the bottom of the Man United pitch. 

   Woman found alive on Kittery Beach after missing for over three years.

 He missed the headlines again when he decided to stay out just a little longer, wanting to watch the sun sink below the horizon. He missed it one more time too when his phone rang. An unknown number from Storybrooke, Maine.

 He’d almost let it go to voicemail, worrying that it was David Nolan, having discovered it was him that called all of those months before. But something in his gut pushed him to answer.

 It took a second for a voice to sound on the other line after he answered, but when it did, he nearly dropped the phone.

 “Killian?”

[painandpleasure86]

Friends will be Friends - Fic Series “Deaky’s Diary” Chapter #2

Author’s note: Hi! January 26th I had a fic inspo with the same John from the fic I can’t live with you (but I can’t live without you) because of some words from Bri when some Japanese fans gave to Roger and him some gifts, and there haves one for John. This is mere imagination, but this is my realistic imagine about the reaction of John knowing that he will receive a present from his old bandmate...

Indeed this will be the second fic of a new series, “Deaky’s Diary”, where I’ll write the reaction that I imagine that John would have about certain sucesses around his life. I’ll actualize this when I think that’s necessary!

The reaction of him with the panic attack was inspired in the one described in one chapter of My life has been saved by @deakysgurl​

Perhaps my John it’s very smoker, but i’m inspiring in myself and my addiction to mate (a southamerican kind of tea, but with the effects of coffee).

Oh! This fic series will have a tag dedicated. Will be #deakysdiary. Follow it to know new chapters and related stuff!

Summary: The following week of his wedding anniversary he receive a couple of surprises that will touch his deepest feelings... and that made him take a decision.

Warning: slightly angst, mention of panic attack, some swearing, some friend-fluff (?)

Word count: +1.5k

Permanent taglist: @warriorteam1924​ (if you want to be in that list, send me a msg or ask)

“And there’s Deaky, we’ll have to make sure he gets that”

------

January 25th, 2020

After a week from his anniversary, this Saturday it’s quite normal. Waking up early, drink his necessary tea, smoked some cigarettes, took his medicines. Recharging his emotional batteries to hang on another day.

Knowing that his old bandmates were on tour with that kid named Adam made him felt some melancholy. Watching at the window, contemplating the horizon, remembering good times. Remembering the love that Japanese fans gave to him since his first visit in mid 70s. Remembering being in that TV program with Roger in 1984, where he entered with a gorilla head over his one and saying “number eight, hachi ” when he was asked to choose the prettiest guy between seven guys. Remembering knowing that Music Life dedicated an entire mag with his material in Japan in 2019.  He miss Japan a lot.

“Teo Torriate konomama iko, aisuruhito yo” he sung in a murmur, smiling like an idiot. Even crying. “Aisuruhito yo Japan… I couldn’t thank you enough for your love…” he continued, wiping away some tears, trying to smoke properly. That was his fourth cigarette in just a couple of hours. 

Still remembering good times, noticed that he had just one cigarette remaining in the packet. “Shit. I must to go to the kiosko to buy some cig. And with that, the annoying people trying to get an autograph or pic from me…”. Started to be pretty nervous just for thinking that, he started to breath more quickly. He rested his back in some kitchen mobiliary, his head was reclined, his left hand in his chest, his right hand with the cigarette. He was trying to calm him down, remembering the advice of his therapist. After a couple of minutes, he felt better. And called to his wife.

“RONNIEEEEEEEEEEE!”

She came to the kitchen quickly.

“What’s you need, hun?” she asked kindly.

He hates to be called “hun”, so he watched at her annoyed.

“Ugh John, for god’s sake!” she exclaimed, sighing. “Well, what’s you need? Oh, indeed, morning!” she greeted him with a kiss in his right cheek.

“Morning, lady”. He couldn’t resist to smile a little. “I need that you buy me some cigarette packets, y’know which ones” he said giving to her the money. Sighing, he added “I don’t want to deal with that people” watching directly to her eyes.

“Of course h- ehmmm John” she chuckled a little. “I’ll come back soon, don’t miss me!” she added going to the main door of the house. “And if some people asks for you, I’ll say that you’re sleeping!”

Smoking his last cigarette, he thought “well I’ll check the internet for some news, were some days without connecting”.

-------------------

He goes to his studio and turned on the PC. Expecting what’s up in the fandom. 

But he didn’t expected that. Saw the Bri’s posts and the screenshots of Roger’s instastories from the Queen exhibition, where they were remembering him. And he cried. “I miss you bunch of goofballs, I still love you… I’ll always thank you for understand me… and i should be there with you. Having fun. But without Freddie isn't the same. Sorry…”

Meanwhile he was wiping the tears of his eyes, Ronnie knocks softly the door.

“Come in!” exclaimed him.

She opened the door. After that she approximated to him.

“Well John, I bought like 4 packets of Marlboro Slim, were the 20 on-… What’s wrong dear?” she asked seeing the red eyes of her husband.

He responded “just remembering good old times with the guys, and they also were remembering me in social media. I-” blewed his nose with a tissue. “I need the cigarettes! Thank you hun, bye” he said quickly quitting the packets from the hands of his wife, while she was watching surprised. After that, she left the studio thinking “Christ, sometimes this man it’s so strange...”

Leaving three of the four packets over his desk,  opened the remaining quickly and smoked one cigarette. Reclining in his chair, exhalated the smoke , remembering when Roger stolen his cigarettes. “Haha, I miss you Meddows” said smiling.

-----------------------

January 26th, 2020

That morning he woke up thinking in the guys, “perhaps I could send a message to them, I miss to talk with them so bad… No. Better not. I’ll stay silent and just reading their mails as an approval.” he though meanwhile he was getting up of his bed. 

Make his ritual. Tea, pills, cig. He was daydreaming while he was smoking at the level that he forgot the boiling water.... But at least didn’t happened a disaster.

After that, he made the tea. Still thinking in send some message to the guys. Still refusing to do that. “They surely will want to meet me and I don’t know… they? To my house? Everyone will know.” he was thinking, sitting in a chair of the kitchen’s table.

Meanwhile he was quietly drinking his tea, the phone rang.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Leaving the cup of tea in the kitchen’s table, he answered the call.

“Hello.”

A soft voice sound from the another side of the phone.

“Hi Deacy!”

John was surprised.

“BRIAN?! Why you’re calling me? I think that I told to you and Roger that you can only calls me in very extreme emergencies”, responded kinda angrily.

“I wanted to know how you are… we didn’t speak properly since a lot of time…we’re in Japan on tour…” responded the astrophysicist.

“Yeah Bri, I knew it…” he couldn’t resist to smile. “Thank you for remembering me lately…”

“Not only Roger and me, also Spike miss you… tonight in the soundcheck we had a technical problem and he said “surely if John would be here, that problem wouldn’t happened”

John can’t respond, smile and some tears want to be free. 

Sniffing, trying to sound serious, asked “Just for that Bri?” He was starting to starve for his cigarettes. But that where in the table, next to the cup of tea.

“No… Emmm you didn’t checked the internet already?”

“Eh… no. And last night I wasn’t online. Ronnie insisted that since last Saturday night, every saturday night it's time for cheesy movies” sighed rolling his eyes. 

Brian laughed a little. “Similar thing with Anita happens to me too… Husband thing.” Coming back to the convo, he added “well you don’t know, but Japanese fans gave to us something to you… you will have it soon”

Deaky was surprised.

“What’s that?”

Bri smiled again.

“Check the internet Deacy, or wait some weeks”.

John couldn’t hold the tears more time. He starts to cry. He haves a response for all his own questions that he made before that morning. He made a choice.

“Erm… Thank you…  for... calling me Brian!”

Brian was surprised for the mood change.

“I don’t understand you man, a few minutes ago you were complaining about this call!”

“But… I… I miss you! I also miss Roger.... and Spike… Please tell to them that I miss them and I love them so much. I... I love you too mate!”

“Please repeat that words again… they’re listening to you”.

Roger and Spike were listening all the calling but Brian didn’t told that to John to surprise him. 

John couldn’t reply properly. They could listen to the 68 years old man crying. After a moment, he could do it. “I miss you guys, I hope that you’re fine!”, were his words.

Roger replied “It’s mutual bud. We should meet!”

Spike added “We can made a BBQ… oh, shit Bri it’s vegan! Well, we’ll do some grilled vegetables to him, haha!” laughed the keyboardist.

Being emotional, John said “yeah! Call me soon to schedule that meeting! Will be in my home if you want”

The three screamed “yeaaaah!”

“Your wives are also invited!” added John.

“See ya soon man!” they said.  Brian turned off the speaker. “Very soon” whispered Brian. “Bye Deacy, have a nice day”, he added.

“Good… Night?” asked confused John because of the timezones.

“Yeah, here’s night. Well… early morning.”

“This is the Bri that I know” thought John meanwhile, smiling. “Good early morning then, haha” told him.

They hung up. And after a couple a minutes he realized that they will come back to his home. And that his tea was cold. “Stupid Bri and his calling” he exclaimed, meanwhile he was bringing the cup of tea to the microwave. 

Ronnie entered to the kitchen and listened that words from her husband.

“Brian… CALLED?!” she asked surprised.

That ask almost makes that his cup of tea falls to the floor.

“God, Ronnie, I had already enough surprises!” He put the cup of tea in the microwave to warm his beverage a little. “And morning”.

In the next weeks, the couple will receive in their big mansion some old friends and the new couples of their friends. They have a lot of things to speak. A lot of time to recover. A lot of hugs and laughs to give and receive. Remember a bit why they were friends. And that they will be friends, right till the end.

-----

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!! This is the way to make more visible my work. New chapters will come when I consider neccessary!

-Lily

[ninetalees]

Sufferance, chapter 2

7 years after the events of Sword/Shield, Gym Leader Bede comes to Postwick to conduct some research in the Slumbering Weald; Hop is his unwilling companion.

Read the previous chapter here!

Read on AO3 here!

Warnings for: Eventual Hop x Bede (cheeryfairyshipping) and eventual M-rated content.

Chapter 2

Hop awoke early that morning. When he opened his eyes he lay still for a moment, assessing his condition following the night before. Of course, despite his aversion to the company, Gloria knew how to host a gathering. He had ended up staying later than he'd intended; knowing Gloria, she stockpiled beer to have on standby in case of opportunities such as these. Despite her celebrity status, Hop knew she treasured nothing more than her friends and the time she could spend with them. It was how they had remained so close, and how she hadn’t become unrecognisable following her rise to fame.

He didn't feel too rotten, luckily - just a dryness in his mouth and the faintest of headaches. He padded into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, flicking the lights on as he went. His coat and bag were strewn across the table where he had carelessly flung them on his arrival home, but other than that the space bore no sign of any drunken shenanigans. That was a relief: if Gloria had had her way he would probably still be drinking in her living room. It was simpler for her, he supposed, living the jet-setting life that she did. Don’t. Gloria had fought hard for the life she led, as had he; it had taken their journey together for him to realise what he really wanted. He could deign to admit that sometimes it was difficult to see Gloria walking the path he had always been so certain had been laid out for him, but they were both happy now.

He leaned against the counter as he sipped his water, watching the dawn beginning to break outside. A few stubborn stars still clung to the pale blue morning sky, but the steady creep of the sun’s rays over the horizon would soon chase them away. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine how today was going to go. Admittedly, the night before had gone far better than Hop had anticipated. He had been on high alert at first, but after a warm meal and a few cans of beer it was difficult to be tetchy. Bede and Gloria had recounted amusing anecdotes of their trip from Ballonlea and Hop had managed to laugh along without the slightest tinge of resentment or jealousy. It was always strange to drink with Bede, to see him pink-cheeked and mirthful, rid of that air of standoffishness that set Hop’s teeth on edge.  The three of them drank well into the night, reminiscing all the while, and Hop hazily remembered shuffling home and thinking maybe it would be alright, after all.

But that had been last night, optimistic from the alcohol. Now, in the cold light of day, he was less certain. It was one thing to drink with Bede in Gloria’s living room – it was another entirely to work with him. He sighed and set down the glass to massage his forehead; perhaps he would need to take some painkillers before work after all.

His heart leapt to his mouth at the sudden blare of his alarm from his room. He raced to shut it off, his pulse in his ears. Why so early? It was then he remembered he had agreed to see Gloria off at the station, and to meet Bede and take him to the lab. He groaned audibly and flopped back onto his bed. Of course, brimming with goodwill from his fourth can and entirely caught up in the moment, he had agreed to be at the station for 6:30am to meet them. Normally he would have no issue getting up early to see Gloria off – he had done it many times before and would go through a lot more to spend extra time with her – but it would mean he would have an hour and a half to kill with a slightly hungover Bede before Sonia arrived. He felt for his phone on the bedside table and held it up to note the time – 6:02am. He would have time to shower and pull together the semblance of a person who hadn’t been up drinking until 2am the night before.

Twenty minutes later and Hop was up, dressed and on the way out. Briefly, he paused to observe himself in the mirror in the hallway. His hair was damp from the shower, and he hadn’t had time to shave, but other than that he looked a picture of professionalism. He adjusted the collar of his shirt self-consciously: was that a stain on his lapel? No, just a shadow. Maybe he should – what are you doing? He scowled back at his reflection. Since when had he cared so much about how he looked for work?

With an irritated shake of his head he headed away. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t linger – he was already short on time and didn’t want Gloria to miss her train. He ran down towards the station, noting the duo of dark shapes standing outside. Hop pulled up in front of them a few seconds later, breathless, and bent over for a moment to calm his racing heart. “Morning,” he wheezed. He straightened abruptly, enjoying the invigorating sweep of the frigid air through his hair. No wonder he had used to run everywhere.

Gloria and Bede regarded him, amusement in both their eyes. “Morning Hop,” Gloria replied, moving forward to gather him into a hug. “Glad you made it – we were just wondering if you would manage to surface.” Gloria drew back and must have noted the slight downturn of the corners of Hop’s mouth, because she added hurriedly. “Was difficult enough for us.”

Hop laughed and folded his hands behind his head as she stepped back to release him. “Yeah, was touch and go for a while, but I wouldn’t miss my best mate for the world.” He grinned and Gloria smiled back, visibly touched.

“Thanks Hop, you’re the best.” She rearranged her rucksack on her shoulders. “I wish I could hang around longer, I really do. It’s always so lovely to be home and I’d love to be able to show you around Bede.” She rested a hand on his arm. “Next time, I promise. And Hop will be a great host.”

Hop gauged Bede’s reaction carefully. There didn’t appear to be any hint of irony in his smile back at Gloria: in fact, with his halo of pale hair, beneath the glow of the station lights he appeared positively angelic. “I have no doubt,” he replied, and Hop managed not to frown as he leaned forward to embrace her. “Thanks again for sorting everything with Hannah. I’ll make it up to you both.”

Gloria chuckled. “Oh please, it’s nothing. Like I said Mum is glad of the company – just help her water the plants in the evening and you’ll be golden.” Hop managed to laugh along with them both but seethed internally at Hannah’s name coming so casually from Bede’s lips. Since when had he been on a first name basis with Gloria’s mother?  He was interrupted from dwelling on this brief pang of irritation by the station speakers crackling to life, announcing that 6:30am service to Hammerlocke was due for departure.

“Bye you two!” Gloria sounded genuinely sorrowful as she backed towards the platform, waving until she had to turn around and jog onto the train. Bede and Hop waved back until the doors closed and the train pulled away. For a long moment afterwards they stood in silence, watching the lights fading into the encroaching dawn. Hop wondered if Bede was contemplating the same as himself: that they would have to make their own conversation, now.

Eventually, Hop cleared his throat. “Well,” he said at last. “Sonia should be in the lab at around 8am, so we have an hour and a half to kill.” He glanced at Bede, who was still staring pensively into the distance. “Anything you fancy doing? Honestly I could probably show you most of the sights of Wedgehurst and Postwick in that time and still have some to spare.”

Bede pursed his lips, and glanced at that ostentatious golden watch of his. It was as oversized on him as it had been seven years ago, and slid up his arm with the slightest of movements. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, I suppose,” he replied. “I think I’d rather save the tour for a time when it’s not ridiculous o’clock in the morning and I’m not slightly sleep deprived. Why don’t we just grab a coffee?”

Hop burst out laughing, and it was only when he met Bede’s bewildered gaze he realised he hadn’t been joking. “Grab a coffee?” he spluttered. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, mate, but you’re in the arse-end of Galar here. You’re a good 40 miles out of ‘grabbing a coffee’ territory.”

Bede scowled. “Alright, sorry I’m not familiar with your ‘arse-end of Galar’ sensibilities,” he huffed. “What do you suggest, then? Go and nap in the fields with the Wooloo for an hour?”

Hop couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, with the amount of sleep I’ve had, that sounds like a great plan.” He rolled his shoulders, considering. “If it’s coffee you’re after, though, let’s just head to the lab. There’s a kitchen and I’m sure Sonia has a jar of instant squirreled away somewhere.”

Bede sniffed. “Fine,” he replied, a slight edge to his tone. It seemed Hop had managed to offend him already; he didn’t like to be laughed at, that was for sure. They had been alone what, five minutes? If Gloria were still there she would have punched him.

Instead, Hop chose to ignore Bede’s obvious annoyance and strolled past him towards the lab. He indicated Bede should follow with a twitch of his head; Bede paused for a moment, reluctant to react to what was a tacit command, before trailing after him.

They walked in silence until they arrived at the lab. Hop withdrew the key from his coat pocket and moved to unlock the door. He held it open for Bede, who gave him a long look before going inside. Hop closed it after them, flicked on the lights, and watched smilingly as Bede looked around in unbridled awe. It was an impressive establishment, all gleaming countertops and pristine equipment. Bede moved past Hop to press a tentative hand to the towering glass wall, enraptured by the dance of the morning light across its surface. Hop watched him for a moment. He had never seen him so… unguarded, the shine of the glass reflected in his oddly-coloured eyes. In a purely aesthetic sense Bede was… sort of beautiful, he supposed. Ethereal and untouchable, like a statue in a museum.

Hop shook himself and straightened instinctively when Bede turned to face him. “Coffee?” he asked, and Bede nodded. Hop made a beeline for the door in the back that led to the kitchen. He bustled around the small space, busying himself with the familiar motions in order to distract himself from his inexplicably racing heart. In all their years of sufferance, that was by far the most intimate moment they had ever shared. After a moment Bede came to linger in the entryway. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“Pretty impressive setup you have here,” he remarked. His tone was causal, expression conveying none of wonder it had before. “I had thought it would be smaller.”

Hop frowned into the mugs he was pouring. He was almost grateful for the familiar bite of exasperation that accompanied that comment – he could deal with that. “Well, yeah, it is the central hub for Pokémon research in the Galar region,” he replied curtly. “What were you expecting? A barn?”

Bede raised an eyebrow. “Calm down, I was just saying.” He stepped back so Hop could hand him a mug as they both moved back into the lab. “I pictured more storybook red-brick as opposed to sleek marble and glass, that’s all.”

Hop didn’t dignify that with a response. As much as he enjoyed sniping at Bede, they couldn’t be at each other throats all the time or they would surely be driven to insanity. Or at least he would – he was convinced Bede thrived on being as contrary as possible most of the time. Instead, he walked over to the main monitor and powered it on; might as well get set up for the day ahead.

“So what was it exactly you’re here to look at?” he asked, his eyes steadfastly on the screen. “I think you mentioned it last night but I’ve forgotten.”

“Ah, continuing something Opal looked into years back.” Bede leaned back on his hands that were resting on the countertop. “Herself and Magnolia established that Weezing’s Galar forme first adopted its Fairy-type in the Slumbering Weald. So, there’s reason to believe there is something particular about it that is accommodating to Fairy-types. It’s the most similar spot to the Glimwood Tangle in all of Galar environment-wise.” Hop nodded slowly as Bede continued. “So, is just a matter of having a snoop around. Or rather, an educated snoop around – figure out what aspect of both places is attractive to Fairy-types, be it environmental or otherwise.”

Admittedly, it did sound like an intriguing study. Almost interesting enough that Hop was less bothered about the idea of Bede poking around the Slumbering Weald. “Hm, interesting.” Hop replied after a moment. He got to his feet to jog up to the balcony. “Might be a good start to have a look at the physical attributes of different Fairy-type species: their physiology, diet, etcetera,” he called down, pulling a few titles from the shelves. “At least, that’s something we can do while we’re waiting.”

Hop could feel Bede’s gaze on him as he made his way slowly back down the stairs, balancing the books he had selected on his outstretched arms. He smugly noted the faint look of admiration in the other boy’s eyes. “Sure, sounds good.” He folded his arms and regarded Hop with a tilt of his head. “You know your stuff.”

“Haven’t just been sitting on my arse the last seven years,” Hop shot back cheerily, laying the books out before them. “Let’s make some notes.”

***

A few hours later, and Hop and Bede were on their way to the Slumbering Weald.

The rest of the morning had gone by in a blur – once they were silent and immersed in study, time passed much more quickly. Sonia had arrived at 8am on the dot, impressed by the sight of their noses already buried in books. Hop opted not to mention they functioning on just about four hours sleep because they had been up drinking the night before.

Once the introductions had been made and Sonia briefed more thoroughly on Bede’s research, she had set them up with equipment and sent them on their way, promising to contribute as much as she could in between her regular duties. Hop, with his impression of Bede forever coloured by their rivalry in the past, wondered how he came off to people meeting him for the first time. He was such a gentleman now, all polite smiles and impeccable manners – so different to the brash, arrogant so-and-so he had been before. Hop could tell Sonia was impressed, by both his scientific curiosity and affability (in that order.) If only she knew; Hop remained unconvinced.

Hop pushed the gate that led to the forest path. It swung open easily, the lock having long rusted beyond use. Hop didn’t think it had ever been fixed from that first day of his and Gloria’s journey, and he was glad. It was nice to have it there – a physical reminder of the start of his life with Pokémon. Bede came through and Hop shut the gate after them. He let Bede lead as they passed into the shadow of the trees, both blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. “S’cold,” Bede remarked, pausing for a moment to rub some heat back into his skinny arms. “Colder than Glimwood.”

“Hence the fog,” Hop replied, taking advantage of the break to rearrange the bags of equipment he was carrying. “Must be a different type of tree here – more effective at blocking out the sunlight. Something to take note of!” He grinned. “Let’s go a little further in, then set up shop. It’ll only be some preliminary stuff we’re looking at today anyway.”

“Fine with me.” Bede straightened and gave Hop a little nod. “Astute observation. About the trees, I mean.”

“It is kind of my job.” Hop resumed walking. He didn’t have the patience to wait for a response: he was sure Bede had been gearing up to say something cutting. They wandered further into the wood. Hop noticed Bede had begun to shiver, but declined to comment. Let him bring a scarf tomorrow.

They found a spot to set up eventually, and busied themselves with their work. As Hop had pointed out, today was only the beginning. They had set themselves the task of gathering samples from the environment – the soil, the trees, the berries, anything else they could find, and potting them to take back and compare with samples Bede had brought from Glimwood. They toiled away in silence, speaking only to comment upon findings or compare notes. It was surprisingly companionable, and not at all as unbearable as Hop had imagined. Bede was focused; every time Hop threw him a glance his features were furrowed with concentration. Hop realised in that moment it was only now, watching Bede work, that he fully believed he was here to actually study and it was in fact not a well-constructed ruse to infringe on the life Hop had built and drive him to insanity. That was a relief, at least.

Eventually, Hop got around to checking the time. He balked at the numbers glowing back at him – when had it become 4:30? He stretched, muscles aching from having spent the day on his knees. “Ready to head back?” he asked. Bede was sprawled on the forest floor as though it were his bedroom carpet, scribbling away. He looked up at the sound of Hop’s voice and straightened to glance at his watch. “Gosh.” He shook some dirt from his sleeve. “The day went quickly.”

“Yeah, nothing better than a new project to make the most of a day,” Hop replied cheerfully. Distracted by his good mood, he unthinkingly offered Bede a hand. For a split second Bede stared at it as though it had teeth. In that instant, Hop considered pulling it back and pretending it had never happened. Before he knew it, however, Bede’s hand was in his. Hop pulled him to his feet, noting how incredibly light he was. Once up, Bede let go right away and they hurriedly turned away from each other to brush themselves down. “Thanks,” mumbled Bede. Hop grunted noncommittally in response and busied himself with collecting the equipment. Bede watched him for a moment, fiddling with his earring, before silently joining Hop in gathering their belongings. Hop’s cheeks were flushed with annoyance at himself – it was no good to be letting his guard down too soon. Today had been a good day, but he couldn’t allow himself to become complacent. He was still a long way off trusting Bede an inch.

They headed back towards Wedgehurst unspeaking. Hop was relieved they were both too tired to attempt to abide by social convention and make small talk. He wanted nothing more than to be out of these dirty clothes and curl up on his couch, to liberate himself of the strange atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the pair. Whenever he glanced at Bede it was evident his companion was lost in thought, eyes on the sky. Hop wondered what he was thinking about.

They arrived in Wedgehurst and Hop was about to turn to Bede and offer to take the rest of the equipment back to the lab and finish up – if only to get rid of him – but before he could do so an ear-splitting scream had them both near jumping out of their skins. They both spun around to see a young girl sprinting towards them, arms flailing. She skidded to a halt in front of them, out of breath and pink with excitement. “Oh. My. Gosh,” she squealed. “Gym Leader Bede? Is that really you?” She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m such a fan. Fairy-types are the best – my mum says I get a Clefairy for my eleventh birthday!” She glanced at Hop. He recognised her as Amelia; her mother worked at the Mart on weekends. “I didn’t know Bede was your friend Hop,” she gushed. “You need to introduce me!”

Hop and Bede looked at each other; Hop could see his own bewilderment reflected in Bede’s gaze. “Uh…” he scratched his cheek, scrambling to right himself. “Well, I don’t think he needs much introducing – you seem to know exactly who he is.” He laughed awkwardly. “Bede, this is, uh, Amelia. She lives here in Wedgehurst. Long-time neighbour of mine.” Bede blinked at Hop, before turning to smile at a wide-eyed Amelia. “Um, hi.” He shifted the bags he was carrying so he could extend a hand. “Nice to meet you. Pretty town you have here.”

Amelia squealed again and shook his hand so enthusiastically Hop was concerned for the safety of Bede’s load of equipment. Bede, warmed by her enthusiasm, found his stride in easy conversation as Amelia babbled at him. Hop watched from the sidelines. Outwardly he was smiling, but his stomach was tight. He was happy, being a Pokémon Professor in training – it was where he was meant to be, and he was good at it. Far better than he ever had been at battling competitively. The work wasn’t as glamourous – he spent his days on his knees in the mud whilst the likes of Gloria and Bede were out shaking hands and kissing babies – but it was just as important. Moreso, even: all the strategies and tactics trainers employed related to the attributes of particular Pokémon that had all been discovered by Pokémon professors and researchers. He had great pride in what he did. But he couldn’t help but remember, sometimes, that he had had to fall behind and relinquish a dream to arrive where he was now. For so long, he had compared Leon’s past with his future. And sometimes late at night when he stared up at the darkened ceiling, all he could see was flash of the stadium lights and the excited roar of the crowd. Cheering for him, the greatest trainer Galar had ever seen…

“Hop?” he was jerked from his reverie by Ameila waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, Hop? Can you take a picture of us please?” Ameila was clutching her phone to her chest, gazing at him with hopeful eyes. Bede appeared visibly uncomfortable, eyes darting from Hop to Amelia. If Hop hadn’t known better he would have thought he appeared almost apologetic.

“Uh, sure,” Hop replied after a moment. He accepted the phone from her and stood back, gesturing for them to stand in the frame. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” cried Amelia, throwing her arm around Bede’s waist. Bede blinked rapidly, akin to a Stanler in headlights, before he managed to adopt a hesitant smile. Hop snapped a few pictures in rapid succession until Amelia was clamouring for her phone back to do a review. She swiped through a few, nodding as she went. “Awesome,” she breathed, looking up at Bede. “Do you have a League Card I could have? Pretty please?”

“Of course,” Bede replied. He fumbled through the assortment of bags he was carrying to find his own rucksack. He felt around inside until his fingers brushed the familiar sharp plastic edges of his League Card bundle to pull one out and place it in Amelia’s eager hands. “Oh. My. Gosh!” She held it up the sun. “It’s signed and everything! This is the best day ever!” She was near vibrating with excitement at this point, cheeks flush with delight. “Thank you so much, Leader Bede!” She grinned up at him. “My friends are gonna be so jealous! I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“My pleasure.” Bede shook her outstretched hand one last time. “Lovely to meet you.”

Amelia giggled bashfully, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers with her free hand. When Bede stepped back she finally acknowledged Hop. “Good to see you too, Hop. You’re so lucky – all your friends are so cool!” Hop nodded, unable to muster a smile. She’s just a kid. It would be stupidly petty and immature to get upset.

At last Amelia ran off, and Hop and Bede were left standing in silence. “Hop…” Bede ventured after a moment. Hop whirled to face him.

“What?” he snarled, and Bede blinked, taken aback by the force of his reaction.

“I didn’t… that was…” Bede sighed. “Sorry,” he settled for at last.

“What on earth are you apologising for?” Hop forced a laugh. “You’re a Gym Leader. You have fans.”

“I know,” Bede replied. “But… I mean, I know it’s probably weird because of… before.” He pressed his lips together, stumbling over his words. “I just… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” Hop hissed with such vitriol he surprised even himself. Bede stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before his expression became dark. “It’s not pity that I have for you, Hop,” he replied coldly.

Hop’s fists tightened around the bags he was carrying. He was glad of their weight: it kept him grounded, reminded him his hands were full so it would not be prudent to punch Bede in the jaw in broad daylight.

“Give me your bags.” Hop spoke at last. “I’ll take them back. You go home – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bede opened his mouth, then thought the better of it and shut it again. Wordlessly, he handed off the bags to Hop. He didn’t move to help when Hop stumbled slightly under the weight of them.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he replied after a moment, his expression utterly unreadable. He turned back in the direction of Postwick, blond hair shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Hop watched him until he was out of sight, then spun around to head back towards the lab, teeth clenched with fury.

It was sunlight, not tears in his eyes, that was obscuring his vision.

*** 

A/N: Wow, Chapter 2 finished already! Don’t get too used to this, lol – have some time off work so have more time to work on this. Future updates will probably be slower. Or maybe not, I am really feeling this story right now so am motivated to work on it!

Anyways, here it is! Please enjoy. I will edit this and fix up small mistakes later, lol, but am sick of looking at it for now.

Also, in case people are wondering, ‘arse-end’ is a term for the ‘middle of nowhere.’ I think it’s mostly Irish (I am Irish) but a lot of Irish phrases are used in Britain too, so – I may take a few liberties on that. Any Brits are free to call me out hahaha.

[sage-nebula]

Late but who are your top 5 AC villagers?

1.) CHIEF — He has been my absolute favorite since the original Gamecube game, and while it sucks a bit that I had to buy a (bootleg but very high quality) amiibo card to finally reunite with him sixteen years later, it was worth it. I’ve missed him. He will always be my all-time fave. (Also, the bootleg amiibo card was a birthday present to myself, and I only paid like $5 for it, so I don’t feel too bad about it.)

2.) Marshal — Since I don’t interact with or pay attention to the fandom basically at all aside from reblogging the occasional funny thing that comes across my dashboard, I completely missed all the Marshal hype in New Leaf and didn’t even know whomst he was when he showed up as my first Smug villager in the tent in New Horizons. And to that end, his introduction rubbed me the wrong way so I didn’t even want him at first and was mad I was forced to invite him to stay! But now I love him to pieces. Aside from being adorable appearance-wise, his personality is absolutely great and he was the first villager in New Horizons to give me his picture. I’m never letting him leave, and imo, Marshal > Raymond. Yeah, I said it.

3.) Freya or Whitney — Freya was my favorite in New Leaf and I was so heartbroken when she up and left that I stopped playing altogether lmao. So when I got myself Chief’s amiibo card (well, bootleg, again), I also got Freya’s. This turned out to be an amazing decision because it was thanks to Freya that I FINALLY got the Ironwood Dresser recipe. However, then Whitney showed up at the campsite and I had to have her, too. She’s gorgeous. Also both Freya and Whitney are Snooty villagers so it’s like, they’ve got the same personality . . . I can’t pick one over the other.

4.) Walker — He is my child, my son. He’s another one I got at my campsite. I know all Lazy villagers have the same personality, but there’s something about Walker that makes him seem especially babey to me (maybe the fact that he’s a pupper?) and as such I treat him like one, haha. Such as, sometime after I told Marshal to use “beech” as his catchphrase, sweet, innocent Walker started using it and I felt like that one comment where the parent gasps and covers the child’s ears and then starts assaulting the one who taught them the profane word. You know the one I’m talking about? Anyway. Walker asked me to change his catchphrase and so I had him start saying “bork” instead (was very tempted to change it back to his original “wuh” though because it’s SO CUTE), but now he’s passed that onto Agnes . . . oops.

5.) Maple — She’s SO CUTE!! I discovered her by chance on a mystery tour and oh my god she’s precious. It is kind of weird that they have both bears and “bear cubs” since, you know, cubs are supposed to be baby bears and Maple’s clearly an adult like the rest (sans Walker, even though he is; he’s babey), but I’m willing to overlook it given how cute and sweet she is. She was the second one to give me her photo in New Horizons and I cherish it just like I do Marshal’s.

Incidentally, these are all villagers I currently have on my island . . . but that’s because while I do remember some other villagers from past games, I’m not attached to them enough to like, want to seek them out. And strangely, I cannot at all remember anyone I had in Wild World. Like I played that one, I played it quite a bit, but I can’t remember who the hell was in my village in that game. (I also don’t remember who was in my village in City Folk, but I barely played City Folk because it sucked. And if you don’t believe me it sucked, then look up what animal tracks were in the Animal Crossing series and especially in City Folk and you’ll agree with me that City Folk was trash.) I only remember my villagers from the original Gamecube game (which I played before I ever played Wild World for obvious reasons, tf), New Leaf, and now New Horizons. The only ones I really remember from Wild World were non-villagers like Blanca, Redd, and Lyle (whom I still haven’t forgiven for the utter NONSENSE he pulled in that game even though I am happy that he got away from Redd and turned his life around). 

So yeah, those are my favorites! Though I have a feeling I’d adore Audie if I could get her in my town . . . I know she’s Peppy and so she’d be the exact same as Bianca (who I also have in my town and love), but she’s such a pretty wolf and I love wolves . . . @ Audie come to my campsite, you’ll have a good time I promise . . .

EDIT: I just remembered that I think I had Lobo in Wild World, but while he was a wolf and I love wolves, the fact that he was a cranky wolf but not my cranky wolf kind of put me off him a little bit. It was like he was discount Chief . . . nothing personal, I just . . . really wanted Chief back . . . so I guess I just kind of forgot that I ever had Lobo in any one of my towns, but I did. At least I’m pretty sure I did, and it was in Wild World. 

[crystallized-iron]

Fic Recs

I really don’t read as much as I should, but there have been some really great ones. MCU and X-Men recs under the read more.

I think... if I counted right, this is 25 recs here. I may have gotten carried away a little bit. Enjoy.

--- --- ---

Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked by Kellyscams Rating: Explicit

Steve's just moved back to Brooklyn after spending ten years in California trying to make a life for himself as an artist right after high school. Having escaped to the other side of the country following the sudden death of his mother, Steve feels guilty about abruptly leaving all his friends for so long, unfulfilled, scared and nervous about started college at his age, and unbelievably lonely. So when he meets Bucky Barnes, a young sex-worker, at a bar the night before his first day of classes, temptations might be too high to resist.

One night paying for sex with the most sinfully gorgeous guy is nothing to brag to the papers about, huh?

S'not like he'll ever see him again anyway...

...Right?

And we pulled each other like gravity by hllfire Rating: Explicit

Erik accompanies Charles, Crown Prince of the Xavier Empire, to his first diplomatic meeting on the planet Themis, where he finds out something about the Prince and they end up talking about the past and how their paths had crossed before.

Fill for the Day 1 of Cherik Week: Space AU.

Bitter Sweet by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Teen

Bucky comes home from the war, finds out he has a daughter he never knew existed and now he must cope with life after the war while taking care of her.

Alternate timeline where Bucky's rescued after falling from the train, but Steve was never told and goes into the ice anyway.

Broken by NotEvenCloseToStraight Rating: Explicit

It took months of therapy for Bucky to break his Winter Soldier conditioning, and Steve was there for him, encouraging him to talk about his past, his fears, his time as the Soldier. And Bucky talked about everything-- except why the barest mention of an Alpha makes him panic. When Steve brings Bucky home, Alpha!Tony is ready to welcome Bucky with open arms and wings, but Bucky can't look at him, can't be in the same room without his wings flaring out to keep the Alpha away, a broken Omega panicking in the presence of a strong Alpha. But Tony is a good Alpha, and the team pulls together to help Bucky, showing him what it means to be loved, to be healthy and whole, and one day when Tony holds his hand out, Bucky trusts him enough to take it. And Bucky realizes that with a family behind him, with the safety hes found in the Omegas, the companionship from the Betas, and the unconditional love from the Alpha--HIS alpha, he isn’t broken at all. But with a team like the Avengers, tragedy is never far off, and this one rocks the family to their core. How can they fix the broken pieces of their lives when their Alpha is gone?

Close to you, I’m home by OneWithoutAName Rating: Teen

As Erik is searching the manor, he finds something strange in the attic. He knows that he needs to go to Charles, if he wants some answers. After all, why would there be a nest in a small dusty attic room, when there were countless rooms with ridiculously soft beds all around the manor?

Goodbye Brothers by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Teen

A look at Dum-e during the events of Iron Man 3 and beyond.

It’s Not What You Think... by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Teen

Bucky walks in on Tony dirty talking in the lab but it's not what he thinks.

Letters to Bucky by NotEvenCloseToStraight Rating: Explicit

Stuck in rehab after a near-fatal accident, Tony reaches out via letters to a soldier overseas, and Bucky is more than happy to write back, drawn to Tony for a reason he can't quite name. One or two letters turn into a years worth, then come the phone calls, with Tony quickly realizing that Bucky's voice, with that rolling Brooklyn accent might be his new favorite sound. When Bucky shows up unannounced at Tony's door, one thing leads to another and maybe a confession or two is made. But Bucky's tour overseas isn't over yet, not even close, and they have months more of distance between them. Then Bucky disappears, missing in action, and Tony doesn't know if he will ever get his soldier back. And if Bucky DOES make it home, will he be the same boy from Brooklyn who sent Tony love poems, or has his time away and his injuries changed him for good?

BONUS CHRISTMAS CHAPTER ADDED 12/10/18

Let your light shine by OneWithoutAName Rating: Teen

Inspired by Moomin TV series from 1990 and the episodes “The invisible friend” and “The invisible Child”. It’s the start of the summer break and Erik, a 13 year old boy living in a small house with his mother in the outskirts a small(ish) English town, is stuck in home because of the rain. The evening seems to get interesting though, when a strange man arrives with an invisible telepath boy and asks them to help him become visible again.

Loving a Vampire by Feelingsinwinter Rating: Mature

In the 19th century, Tony is a greatly appreciated and skilled inspector. His dire need to find the murderers and killers to every case he is given is well known among the people and while it doesn’t always help him to get the answers he needs, at least it makes it easier to convince people to talk to him. When Mary Ann Nichols is found dead, Tony Stark doesn’t know the investigation will put his life in harm’s way, put his marriage with one James Buchanan Barnes on shaky ground and shove him in a situation he wasn’t ready to face.

When a murderer does their best to earn the name of a monster, Tony is ready to do anything to stop them.

My beacon in a storm that is the world by OneWithoutAName Rating: Teen

Erik hated this planet. And he had seen a few along the years as a pilot of the most troublesome research team that had ever existed.

Or, they find a new alien species and Erik catches a bad case of feelings ragarding his relationship with Charles.

Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts by Kellyscams Rating: Explicit

When the House of Barnes is left in massive debt after the death of George Barnes, their oldest son and heir, Bucky, is forced to sacrifice his own hopes and dreams by entering an arranged married to Steve Rogers. Steve seems kind enough, has a prominent job in the government, and was even voted Society's Best Catch. But the House Rogers is significantly higher in status than Bucky's family, which means Bucky is marrying up in Society, and marrying up doesn't only come with rewards, it also comes with certain...expectations and losses--some of which Bucky might be willing to do anything to avoid. And those opportunities might come his way.

Unless, of course, he actually starts falling in love with his new husband...

Pirates Heart by NotEvenCloseToStraight Rating: Explicit

The 1700s, the Golden Age of Piracy, and Captain Steve Rogers has all he wants: a ship, a loyal crew, Bucky at his side, and the horizon offering a new adventure everyday. But an impulsive kiss gone wrong leads to a marriage between Steve and Tony Stark, and now Steve doesn't know what to do about ANYTHING. Steve loves Bucky, but something about Tony draws him in. Tony is too innocent for this life, but he picks up a sword anyway. Bucky is Steve's, but when he offers his hand to Tony and now the three of them are something new. When the truth about Steve's mission to ruin the Stark name comes out, Tony runs away, leaving Steve and Bucky behind in search of answers to the secrets hidden from him his whole life-- about his company, about Uncle Obie, about his parents death.

Steve and Bucky cant abandon their mission against Stane and Tony cant deal with the answers he finds in New York. Is this the end? Is Tony gone forever? Or will he leave his old life and return to the sea and the Pirates that hold his heart?

**BONUS CHAPTER ADDED 2/4/19!!** **BONUS CHAPTER ADDED 5/15/20!!**

Random Encounter by g33kyclassic Rating: Explicit

Charles is just a typical London commuter...until he sees the most gorgeous man on earth standing a few feet away from him.

Regret is in the past by OneWithoutAName Rating: Teen

Six years after first class, the cold war escalates and the missiles are fired, destroying the world as it was known. Those who managed to live, fight for survival against each other and against the living dead. One would think that the mutants have advantage, but Shaw was wrong in his assumption that the radiation would make them stronger. On the contrary, it made them weaker, their powers only half of what they used to be. In this world of waste land, Erik and what’s left of the brotherhood are trying to survive. It’s five years later, they are cornered by the zombies while they were trying to gather supplies in abandoned town. The situation seems hopeless, until a silver haired boy appears out of nowhere and tells them to be ready to run.

Small Indiscretions (Can Save the World) by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Teen

Captain Steve Rogers has defeated the Red Skull but lost his own life in the process, leaving behind a grieving Peggy and guilt-ridden Howard Stark. After looking to Howard for comfort following her great loss, Peggy finds herself facing the scariest mission she’s ever encountered: motherhood.

While this news is devastatingly unwanted for Peggy, Howard sees this as a golden opportunity to give his bride Maria the child she never thought she could have. With a little convincing and promises that she won’t have to be involved with the child’s life if she doesn’t want to be, Peggy agrees to keep and have the baby for the Starks, own personal comfort be damned. She wasn't planning on it being so hard, or finding someone she didn't want to lie to along the way. AKA what if Peggy Carter was more than just Tony Stark’s badass aunt?

The Consequence of Hiding by g33kyclassic Rating: Explicit

Charles is completing his PhD at Oxford when he finds himself in dire need of a new job to support himself and Raven. Erik is a grumpy Mutant Student Counsellor who has yet to fill his student assistant position. Enter Prof. MacTaggert and her matchmaking ways to bring her student and her friend together (in platonic, professional compatibility, of course). Will things stay platonic for Charles and Erik? Only time will tell.

The Funeral by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Teen

Tony attends the viewing and funeral of his parents. The other members of the company's board are not amused by his actions there.

The Risks by OneWithoutAName Rating: Teen

Inspired by post on Tumblr It takes Erik by surprise how Mystique doesn't seem to remember just how much Charles has done and risked for them, for their kind. But it seems that Erik wasn't quite aware of the risks either.

The Robot Who Could Feel Pain by slightly_salty_ace Rating: Teen

In which Tony leaves Afghanistan more machine than human. Or rather, Iron Man leaves Afghanistan. To the world, Tony Stark is dead.

Or...

Steve is convinced that Iron Man is just a robot with sass because the future is a strange place and he's stopped questioning things.

But when someone from Tony Stark's past returns, putting Iron Man in danger, Steve is forced to start asking questions. Specifically questions about his feelings towards a certain red and gold robot.

The Shared Dream by TurtleTotem Rating: Teen

Charles's cryo-pod malfunctions and wakes him up a century before everyone else. Will he spend the rest of his life alone on a ship full of sleepers? (A Passengers AU.)

The Soldier by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Explicit - Read Warning and Tags!

There's something wrong with Bucky. Something very wrong and it may have dire consequences for his friends and loved ones.

Time Falls Away by NotEvenCloseToStraight Rating: Mature

The Battle of New York: Tony flies himself and the nuke through the wormhole and when his suit shuts down and he starts to fall, he knows he's going to die. But then he wakes up in an alley in Brooklyn, two strangers staring down at him in confusion and Tony is sure he is dreaming when he shakes hands first with pre-serum Steve Rogers, and then Bucky Barnes. Trapped in 1942, Tony befriends Steve, and falls in love with Bucky but America is at war, and Bucky and Steve ship out to join the cause. Tony knows all the stories about the Howling Commandos and knows what’s coming for the soldiers, and has to live through history as first Bucky falls, and then Steve disappears. Tony is left alone in the 40's, crying himself to sleep in the house he had shared with his best friend and his lover. But then he wakes up on the pavement in New York, the Hulk roaring in his face, Steve staring down at him, and he has to wonder if it was all a hallucination. When Tony fell through the sky, did he fall through time as well? Why does Steve act so cold towards him? Were he and Bucky really that happy together?

Did it all really happen, or is Tony in love with a life he can only have in his dreams?

We want the same thing by hllfire Rating: Mature

Charles is locked up underground, where his telepathy won't be a problem, deemed too dangerous now to be kept free. Erik pays a visit.

Fill for the Day 2 of Cherik Week: Dark!Charles.

Your Love Alone Is Not Enough by LadyDarkPhoenix Rating: Explicit - Read Warning and Tags!

In an alternative post Civil War, Clint and Bucky fell in love and tried to make a life together. But then Thanos happened and Clint embraced the darkness within himself trying to cope with all his loss.

This is how after Bucky returned, Clint still can't cope with what happened and who he's become. How even though he seems to have it all, his own mind is his now his greatest enemy. Bucky tries to help but how do you help someone that doesn't believe he should be saved?

[hollywoodx4]

Animal Crossing: Road to Hell’s Horizons

Since I’ve clearly lost my mind, you can have the crack I wrote for no good reason last night while drinking wine and sent to my dear, patient Annika as if it were gold. 

              “Thank you so much for choosing the Hades deserted island getaway. Sit back, relax, and enjoy your ride…”

              Eurydice taps her feet to the elevator-style music, looks out the window as the plane departs. Her life hadn’t been all too interesting before this; she’d figured that this little trial experiment sounded good enough-a chance at a different life, a way out of the hole she’d been in.

              Landing on the island, she quickly realizes that she’s surrounded by a strange abundance of apple trees; strange, seeing as though the season for apples seems to be over. The fragrance is welcome, but nearly overwhelming. She also realizes that she’s stepped off the plane with two other people; a tall, awkward boy seeming to be somewhere around her age, and a slightly older woman who walks like she owns the place already. Eurydice follows their tour guides-an impossibly tall and beefed-up man, and a woman about her size with freckles plastered across her cheeks and nose. In the center of the patch there is a red tent, and in front of it? A man.

              This man wears a shirt emblazoned with a gaudy monstera print, yet still fancified by the sheer expense that seems to have gone into it. His hair is a fair white, with a well-kempt beard to match. Eurydice stands between the awkward boy and the well-carried woman with her hands attached firmly to her knapsack.

              “Alright everyone, welcome to the island. My name is Mister Hades, and I’m the founder of this island and my company, Hades Inc. You chose well when you chose this getaway package. But before we get too far, I’d like each of you to choose a spot to live. I’ve got tents for each of you, go ahead and set up wherever you’d like and then come meet back here for your next direction.”

              Eurydice moves to take her tent from the man, who introduces himself as Timmy and makes himself known as a help. Then, she looks around. The woman from the plane has seen herself to Mr. Hades, draped over his shoulder. She does not have a tent but addresses him by name, and he kisses her the way that lovers do. Eurydice shoulders her own tent and steps away from the little dirt platform, wanting nothing more than to get away from the immediate lovefest taking place. She walks a little bit of the way, hoping to climb the too-steep cliffs and explore the weeded grounds a bit more. She’s stuck, however; each cliff is too high, too insurmountable to manage the climb.

              She comes to a large expanse of beach and sighs at the sound of the waves crashing against a long stone, the peace of it all. Here, she decides, is where she’ll put her tent. She moves to the grass, worried about the currents and the storm conditions of the unfamiliar territory, and begins to set up her own little patch of land. She’s just started picking weeds when a familiar figure slides up beside her, bending down and clutching a patch of purplish grass in his own hands.

              “Hey, neighbor.” Eurydice watches the awkwardly lanky boy pluck weeds from the ground, his tent flung on the grass next to an instrument she doesn’t recognize. He isn’t very good at his task, plucking and leaving the weeds in the spot he’s trying to clear, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t tick her off that he’d come all this way across the island to place his tent. “My name is Orpheus.”

              “I’m Eurydice. Uh…you got it?” He stands, staring at the landscape in front of him with a quizzical turn of his brow. She’s just screwing in the last of her tent poles, giving the structure a firm shake to be sure it is in place. It barely wavers. Orpheus, on the other hand…the man closely resembles the pole in his hand, tall and lean, and he struggles to find his own footing as he mumbles to himself.

              “I…I think so, let me,” He yelps with surprise as one of the poles comes toppling down, narrowly missing his head.

              “Let me help you.” She gathers a long pole in her hand and fastens it with ease, chuckling to herself as he fidgets with his hands, stepping back to watch her work. “I’m Eurydice.”

              “Eurydice…” He breathes the name out in a sigh, “your name is like a melody.”

              “A singer-is that what you are?” She gestures to the instrument in the grass, which he runs over to hurriedly, holds out to show her.

              “I also play the lyre.” She thinks about the expanse of the island; how she’d trekked pretty far to set up her little seaside tent. She thinks about the noise of the instrument in the boy’s hands, wondered how to tell him that she didn’t want to hear it over the crashing of the waves. But then he’d smiled, given the instrument a heartfelt strum, and all her qualms had been erased.

              Walking back to the little island center, Eurydice watches Orpheus bound ahead, taking in the full expanse of trees and the shadows of fish that swim along the rivers. It’s not a bad space-a bit poorly laid out. Orpheus marvels at what they have, and Eurydice imagines what could be; a bridge going across the river for further exploration, maybe a pathway leading up the heavily flowered cliffs. There is so much to be done, so much to explore, that she suddenly feels overwhelmed with the need to work.

              When they return, Mr. Hades looks upon them expectedly, his hands clasped together.

              “Okay, now we can move on to serious business.” His voice is booming, commanding. The two workers behind him are dwarfed not in stature, but in magnitude. His presence takes over, shows his true place as president of his own company. “I’d like to have a celebratory bonfire-to commemorate this glorious business venture. But I need sticks to make a fire. Ah, yes-Eurydice, wasn’t it? Why don’t you go and collect some sticks for the fire?”

              “I’ll go with her!”

              “Orpheus, I need you elsewhere. Why don’t you start sweeping up this dirt.”

              “Sweeping it? But sir it’s,”

              “Sweep the dirt, Orpheus.” The boy does as he’s told, pulling a broom from thin air and sweeping up dust as Eurydice skulks away.

              Collecting firewood? Isn’t this something he should have already done? What kind of business man is this?! She rants to herself as she begins to look around her, finding just enough branches that had fallen from the trees. She returns with a handful, throws them on the ground with a satisfying thud.

              “Is that good enough for you?”

              “That should be fine.” He clicks his tongue, looking around before lighting with emotion once again, raising a finger. “Something else, Eurydice. This island has a lot of fruit. Apples, they’re apples. Only apples grow on this island. I think we need some. I need you to go grab some for me to make a snack with for tonight.”

              “You need me to grab the apples?” She looks around incredulously. Poor Orpheus is still sweeping away at the sandy earth with a concentrated grin on his face, and all Eurydice can do is laugh. He seems caught up in his task, completely enraptured, and only pauses to wave at Eurydice as she walks by him.

              Pick some fucking apples, she groans, we need a snack at this bonfire you did all the work to make. Now go shake some trees and put those apples in your fucking pockets. No big deal. The word ‘getaway’ doesn’t apply here at all.

              When she returns, Eurydice is pretty riled up. She gives the apples to Mr. Hades, who simply puts them in his own pocket and smiles his sly smile, straightening his monstera leaf shirt.

              “I’ve participated in many adventures and endeavors over the years,” Mr. Hades begins his speech, addressing the small community of people on their island. Eurydice looks around her in confusion; it’s dark, when had it become so dark? “This one may be my best yet.”

              Is this a pyramid scheme? A cult? She looks around, but the others are enraptured with what Mr. Hades is saying.

              “There’s not as many people here as I envisioned, but I have a team working on that. Now, we’ll have to build this place from the ground up. It’s not a deserted island anymore, but what should we call it? Any suggestions?”

              Everyone pauses to think, and then suggestions come pouring in. Even Eurydice has a few, although Orpheus seems adamant about his ideas. Then, Mr. Hades perked up.

              “Oh, I’ve got an idea. We can call it Hadestown.”

              Eurydice’s face falls flat, and she rolls her eyes. It seems to be decided, however. The two workers behind Hades clap at the suggestion, and then the woman next to her. Even her tall, lanky neighbor seems to agree, nodding his head and repeating the name to himself. She looks around at her surroundings; the strong perfume of apples, the clapping over such a simple, self-serving name for an island and groans. Maybe this deserted island getaway won’t be all it’s cracked up to be.

[sadienita]

Two’s Company - Part 1

Chan x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Meeting you soulmate was like a fairy tale. You were so happy to have found your happy ending already with the most wonderful girl. You were already falling in love. But they do say the more, the merrier.

Your class could not end fast enough.

Well okay it had just started really, but you were ready for this hour and a half to be over already. You genuinely liked school and your classes and you swore you were a good student, at least you were trying to be. University was a whole different experience than high school and you did want to do well and actually get your degree. And it wasn’t that you were a particularly bad student.

Mochou was just so distracting. 

You brought your attention back to the lecture for a few moments even though this professor's lectures were very dry. You were almost at the mid semester break and with your first ever set of university midterms looming on the horizon you knew that you needed to be focused during lectures. 

Despite all of that you let your mind wander back to the summer break while you sat in the lecture hall. You knew people met their soulmates when they went off to school. Not everyone but a lot of the people you knew did. You weren’t really expecting it to happen but you knew the moment you saw her that she was the one. 

Your family was surprised, but understanding. There were theories on why people had the soulmates they did, but it was at least agreed upon that you couldn’t choose your soulmate. You liked to believe it was fate to have met her while touring campus the summer before you started here. It felt just a little like a fairy tale and you liked that. You could still recall how your heart started beating so fast and how there were butterflies overtaking your stomach. You remembered that your hands were shaking so bad you could barely hold onto her phone to give her your number.

And now you were completely missing the lecture because you were so busy thinking about her. You liked this phase, this sort of sweet lovey dovey phase. It was fun to be excited about seeing her and spending time with her. And your parents had already told you that the feelings start to fade after a while. But as they fade proper love starts to grow. You had already noticed that your feelings around Mochou had relaxed somewhat. The butterflies weren’t quite so strong and your hands were a lot more steady.

You tore your attention away from your daydreams and brought your focus back to the lecture. At the very least you could pay attention for the last ten minutes and figure out if there was anything you needed to have ready for the next class.

It was still a massive relief when the professor let the lecture out. 

Your heart was beating faster as you made your way to the door of the lecture theater. Mochou was always waiting for you after this lecture and you could already feel that she was nearby. 

You got through the door and spotted her, your heart skipping a beat. As always she was leaning against the wall with her mask up and her black leather jacket on. She swept her dark teal bangs out of her face and with the way her eyes crinkled you could tell she was smiling at you. You practically skipped down the hall to her and hugged her while she pulled you against her side.

“How was class, love?”

“Boring,” you pouted. “I’d rather be with you.”

Mochou rolled her eyes. “And I’d rather you actually earn a degree.”

“Why does it matter? You already do so well. How about you get a degree and I’ll be your trophy wife?”

She shot you a look. “Don’t joke about that.”

“You know you would love me anyway, even if I did drop out.”

Mochou sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I would.”

You giggled and snuggled further into her side. “You know I won’t actually drop out. That professor is just so boring and thinking about you is so distracting.”

Mochou hit the back of your head. “You should not be thinking about that during class!”

You felt your face heat up. “That’s not what- I didn’t- T-That wasn’t-” you stuttered.

Mochou laughed and pulled you close to her again. “You’re really too cute, love.”

“You only think I’m cute when I’m flustered.” you muttered.

“Not true,” she hummed, pulling down her mask and kissing you on the temple. “I think you’re cute all the time. I just think you’re extra cute when you’re flustered.”

Mochou pulled her arm away and slipped her hand into yours instead. She pushed open the door to your favourite campus cafe and the two of you made your way to your usual corner. You set yourself up to study while Mochou bought you both drinks. This was one of your favourite parts of Monday. Some weeks, like with one, Mochou had work so you would only be able to spend a little bit of time together. But you still loved getting to spend that time with her no matter how short. Of course she made you study and do homework, which was honestly a good thing since otherwise you would probably just stare at her the whole time. She was so pretty you just couldn’t help yourself.

Eventually she had to leave for work. After assuring her you would get back to your dorm safe she gave you a quick kiss and left. You usually stayed and tried to get a little more studying done. Your midterms were looming and as much as you joked about it you didn’t actually want to flunk out, you would very much like to eventually get your degree.

At some point though you did have to pack up and head back to your dorm room. You could only study for so long before your brain stopped absorbing information.

You were packing stuff into your bag when you started to feel your heart beating harder and your stomach erupt with butterflies. Your hands started to shake very badly, much like they had when you first met Mochou. It seemed really strange to you that the feelings were like this all of the sudden but who really understood soulmates and how they worked anyway.

You looked up smiling and froze. There was a boy standing across the cafe from you with a large smile on his face.

Wait.

It wasn’t Mochou?

No.

That didn’t make any sense.

You couldn’t have two soulmates.

Wasn’t that impossible?

The boy approached you excitedly, he jumped into talking to you the second he was in front of you.

“Hi! I’m Chan. Oh wow I didn’t think I’d meet my soulmate so soon. Are you in first year too? That would be great we’d have the whole rest of our degrees here together! Oh man, I haven’t even asked you your name yet, have I?”

“I have to go!” you blurted out, pushing past him and taking off out of the cafe. 

You almost managed to get out unscathed but you made the mistake of looking back.

You’d never seen so much heartbreak etched across someone’s face.

[annatao]

Creepypasta: The bloody judge

Kira was born in an ordinary family, her mother worked as an accountant in a small company.Kira did not even know her farher. Since childhood, the girl was one oddity in games- she tore the doll's head, put them over the experiments and laughed and played with them making crazy eyes that frightened her mother and brother. When Kira  was 13 years old,  suddenly died her older brother from a stroke that affected the psyche of girls. When the girl was 18, she moved to another city to her aunt to study time because it was not convenient to travel from one city to another. The girl has long fascinated stalker's life and has been many times at different gatherings, where she went to many places, down in the abandoned caves, bunkers, but it was not enough of the adrenaline. One day, for the next gathering, she met a guy named Alex, who was soon replaced by her older brother. After about half a year after they met, Alex was gone and now her main gole go to Pripyat and find her friend. Soon she came sms from her friend Sveta. She met Sveta  in college  from 1 year of study:

C: hi, Kira! I've something heard from  our old friend . A week later, they were going to Pripyat for a tour, but they were for the complete collection is missing two people.Do you wanna go?

K:why not? I do.

C: is great!  do not worry, all paid for, just two people refused to travel for whatever reason, and asked to give the tickets to someone.

K: well, thanks for the info

Kira  knew, it her only chance to find out what happened to Alex. Suddenly, she came to the phone SMS "help me." She is very surprised, because SMS came from Alex, but she knew that his phone is broken and lying in his house. Shrugging, the girl went home and decided to walk up to it through the forest park.  Kira entered the park with the last rays of the sun. At this point, she felt at ease the soul that seemed strange to her. Before leaving the park, she stopped and looked up at the sky, when suddenly something flashed in the bushes, like a bullet, and then there was quiet melancholy sound. On guard, the girl slowly walked out, looking around, until she again to heard rustling in the bushes, but this time the sound was close. Major tremors ran through the girl's back and out of the bushes came a quiet, but like a dead voice whispered something. For the first time the girl was scared and started running away towards the house. Arriving at the apartment and going to her room, she slammed the door, threw her bag on the floor and sat down at the table of the small workshop, where she collected all sorts of stuff for hiking or just what comes to mind. Breathing heavily, her eyes ran in panic across the table, and her heart was beating so fast and hard that smacked into her eyes. Gradually, the panic began to recede, her eyes began to complain of fatigue and lack of sleep, her body relaxed and leaned against the table. She close eyes and under the hum of the old table lamp quickly fell asleep.

A week has passed. Long-awaited day of departure is came , and her last free hours she decided to clean up in her  workshop. By removing unnecessary details, she found her first pictures with Alex, she made it on the  first joint gathering. In the production of parts and tools for their "products",she found it at the gatherings , or she worked as all. Knock at the door. Sveta, joyful impatience, came  into the room with stuffed bag . She looked and put the bag on the chair:

C:Are you ready for the tour? What are you doing again?

K:N-nothing -Kira quickly removed the photos and put them in a bag next to the clippers, -just... it does not matter...

-OK

The girl dressed in a dark blue turtleneck and black pants with the dressings on her legs, wore black ankle boots and took her bag with stalker's jacket swamp color. She   came out of the room, and then came out of the apartment. Arriving at the gathering place, Kira was surprised, that people were not enough, that encouraged girl, but it feel vanished. With Kira and Sveta went  Lena named Bayonet. She wasleader in own  "gang", she always yelling at everyone and commands, and if something is wrong, be ready for the bad joke of her. A few days later the group arrived in the Kiev region, and then the group arrived in a small village, where the live stalkers and ordinary people . The group approached the highest average body man with a small bristles on his face and a scar on his nose. He was dressed in a camouflage brown jacket,  dark green pants and army boots. Adjusting its hood, he coldly looked students:

-you that group of tourists?

Yes, and you are our guide? 'asked the world

Yes, my name is Joel, but my nickname Sacrum. Come on, I'll take you to the local "hotel" - a man for a moment, he looked at Cyrus turned away and immediately went into the heart of the village. The settlement was gray and gloomy, the sky in the clouds, the trees were dried and black and only looked away trees leaves. Many looked at the newcomers, some even shook his head, saying one has committed suicide, even though they just came for adrenaline. Once inside the building there were all renovated and they were soon distributed through the rooms. In the evening, Cyrus was not myself from the strange voices and decided to take a stroll. The street was dark and damp, and there was a small moldy mist under his feet. Heading into the heart of the village, she noticed that nobody around, except that she saw Lena, which is why it looked into the well. For the first time Cyrus felt strong anger and hatred from which it did not even notice as she came from behind and pushed her into a well. The sound of the water was not, and only stopped abruptly screaming Lena. I am realizing that she did Cyrus hiding behind the house and sat on the ground in tears, clutching her head.

What have I done!!? - She thought holding his head, but for some reason suddenly felt light and even joy in the soul, and his face COLOUR smile. "No, you did everything correctly .. remember that she made on one of the gatherings, when she locked you in the bunker, while you did not find Alex. You died then, and now you're the judge! Now you navedesh order!" Swept dead voice head girl, the same voice that had once heard in the forest park.

Wiping tears, she felt bad and slowly walked to the hotel through the dark alleys of the old houses. When they reached the hotel, she was somehow terribly wanted to climb through the window, rather than go through the main entrance. The house was small and, therefore, up to 2 floors, it is easily accessible. Noticing that her friend is sleeping, she tried to go quietly, but their rustle Cyrus still woke her:

K. Cyrus? why are you awake? something happened? -COH Light murmured, peering out from under a blanket.

Cyrus did not say anything, but just turned and looked wild-eyed holding a machete in his hand. Light was not myself from her eyes. A wide smile graced his face. Eyes mad at her. Cyrus sat down and straightened the tuft of her hair. Slowly brought it out and flick slashed her friend's neck. Blood warm rivulets ran down his neck. She wanted to scream but could not. The surrounding silence was broken by groaning from broken cords and larynx, and the head is not littered with hastily back dragging a body. Looking at the body of his best friend, she licked her lips, and without thinking twice jumped out the window. She knew that she could not be, and therefore went to Pripyat along the path through the trees. Despite the rather eerie atmosphere, she walked along the winding, overgrown path looking at the map of Alex. Soon, the old and mutilated trees became fewer and fewer, and on the horizon through the gray mist appeared the first high-rise buildings of Pripyat. Sighing deeply, she went deep into the dead city and listening to the silence of the night and then pierced someone's noises, strange noises, the cry of crows and howling wind. Turning the corner of a building and checked his map as suddenly blew strong and cold wind carrying with him a card.

F YOUR MOTHER !!! - I grumbled loudly Cyrus, but then it has attracted attention as someone's body lay in the middle of the dark yard. Deciding that it is the body of Alex, she hastily began to look into the pockets of the lamp, but suddenly heard a noise behind her. She turned at the sound, and not having time to investigate the situation was hit in the forehead. Sometimes she came to herself and only then she could see how it haul through the lanes and courtyards. Each time the landscape has changed but the same were only three dark silhouette.

Late at night she woke up on the floor in a dark and dirty room, which covered the small and the only honey. From the ceiling fell off the old plaster walls in rust and mold; on itself, she found a dirty robe and on his hands were wounds from needles and something else. Immediately she could not get up because of the weakness and severe headache, but most of all it struck mutilated corpse in the other corner. It was her friend at the gathering, but all in burns and stains in some parts of the body are the joints and bones covered with blood vessels, and in the eye sockets stuck small steel bars. Rising from the floor, she heard footsteps approaching the door:

Sir, we have taken samples of the girls and your guesses were not groundless. Compatibility for the experiment and the probability that it will survive 94.7%!

-excellent! it immediately to the operating table and prepare everything you need! I hope that the new drug will work this time.

A minute went into the room some people in tight suits and took the girl by the hand dragged her into the operating room, through the old rooms. Cyrus began to resist, but as soon as she left the room became howl and moan from burning on the face and legs. Legs did not obey, and she could not walk from the pain, all darkened and swam in his eyes. Woman Soon thrown on the table and its bright white light blinded, and his hands strapped to the table. After a moment, she felt a sharp pain in the eye and hand.

-Proklyate! urgently! an urgent need to remove her eye! and bring the anti-radiation drugs !!! - shouted someone's a woman's voice. The girl began to twitch convulsively, and she put a shot, causing the body stopped moving. The following hours throughout the labs heard heart-rending cries and screams. From shock and pain spasms girl's body arches and twitching, eye bleeding, and introduced pieces of wire sticking out of her collarbones and arms. Suddenly she felt the rope someone loosened his right hand. Deep in the subconscious mind remains of shouting to her that this is her chance. Gathered last strength, she pulled her hand with such force that it hit it on the lamp, which shines directly into her face. Sprinkle hail the girl's body, she was able to take the splinter and stick in your head to one of the captors, while the others fled from the room. Getting up from the floor, she managed to pull out a pair of wires sticking out of himself, but his body did not seem to listen and jerked her every move, as if she were allowed through the current is through the conductor. Turning around, she saw herself in the reflection: battered brown hair, pale skin was a cadaver in burns and red spots, bruises under his eyes and the wound .. cut from the glass went through the left side of the face and only one of its happy-cut does not hurt the eyes, but not the second eyes ... have to survive. Wiping the blood from his face, Kira took a small forceps and headed down the hallway to the main center.

-SSK5B02 Welcome! can you hear me?! - he shouted the doctor in the phone.

Do not worry ... no more and you will not hear, - he said quietly in a hoarse voice, stabbing him in the Adam's apple forceps and cut it up to his chin. Hands professor flickers on the table and in a desperate attempt, trying to strike the girl. Feeling with one hand on the table next to the folders souvenir dagger in a beautiful stand, he pulled the sword from its sheath, raised his hand and tried to hit the girl with a knife in his head. But it was too late. The last thing he saw was a disfigured face and a girl sticking a dagger that has passed through both cheeks. She slowly pulled out the knife and threw it on the floor. Smiling broadly already limp body of professors, Cyrus turned off the phone and went to the side of the corridor, when suddenly she saw a familiar figure, it was Alex, who was standing in the corridor doorway. He was terribly mutilated, just like the corpse in her room, and that resulted in the girl horror. Tattered clothes as myself flesh Man, no eyes, except that protruded vessels of the eye and red blood flowed. Beckoning for a man disappeared from sight. She did not contradict him and went without paying attention to what was already behind her followed him. In one of the corridors man again he appeared and disappeared through a small door next to the exit. Once inside and slammed the door, she found her things that were lying next to a shelf of strange cans, and on the floor littered with old yellowed newspaper. Looking around, Cyrus dressed, and taking his gun went to the wall where the jolly old newspaper about the loss. Hearing the corridor running away, without hesitation she climbed into an old ventilation shaft, and soon it was thrown into a large old container that was standing around the corner of the huge building. Ghost-not just to keep up, but only quietly whispered in a dead voice, as if hypnotizing and forced her to stand up. The girl ran away from the horrible place, hiding in the cloud forests.

2 months later

Evening of the bustling city. The woman returned home and changed into a warm home linen included TV. At that time she listens to the foreign news, especially about the Kirovsky district and how many people are missing, and then found the mutilated corpses, and some have been without golov.2 months ago great-niece was missing. Lisa many times punished herself and her passion, but the fact that Cyrus was killed - in it she did not believe. Lisa also supported his cousin Kate. Kira's mother wanted to sleep, and then completely become delirious. The woman managed to bring his sister back in order. But just a week before she died. It is killed by a drunk driver. The woman died at the scene from chest fractures. The car is too much a woman pinned to a tree that touched the heart bone.

As usual television broadcast about the economy, about the household councils and of the typical news about events in the city. Nothing interesting. Rising from the sofa soft woman went to the kitchen to make himself a hot tea and enjoy it with a chocolate cake. By putting a small ladle of water to warm up, Lisa felt strangely it seemed that the house has someone else. And someone sitting in Kira's room. After her disappearance she did not dare go there. She was afraid. This feeling is not lost even after dinner. After retiring to her room Lisa took a sleeping pill from the nightstands and taking pills fell immediately to sleep.

Deep night. Outside, the rain poured down in buckets that muffles the noise from cars passing by the house. Suddenly there was a creak in the hallway, as if someone had walked heavy quickly and disappeared into the next room. Lisa would have written off all its neighbors, if not distinct noises and chatter something glass. On the back of the woman walked cold shivers, and his heart pounding in his chest. Swallowing, she slowly stood up from the bed, and then wandered out of the room. The woman saw that the bloody footprints to drag out of the kitchen and ends at the threshold of Kira room. From under the door gap was evident that the feeble light was burning in the room. Wedding Crashers. The smell of blood, Hughes covered his nose and mouth. Approaching nearer and nearer, she heard the intruder something spends on steel that publish unpleasant rattle. Taking out a small basket of old cane invalid woman opened the door, and then froze in horror, but in her veins the blood froze. Under the dim light of a desk lamp and sat Cyrus winepress bloody machete. The very same girl was terribly disfigured, and her skin was putrid, like a dead man in the grave:

-davno not seen Aunt lysates cold voice, the girl said, and then looked up to the light of a desk lamp lit her face. The woman was frightened. No. This is not her niece, a mutilated monster. From fear female soul went into the heel, and then ran away screaming slamming the door behind him. Running out onto the landing Lisa began to type in the phone number of the police, who managed to take with them. But trembling hands as evil is not obeyed. Dialing a phone number, she leaned against it to his ear, and then became a heart-rending scream and cry, "Help!".

Come on, I'll help you-a woman's voice came from behind. Swing. Old wheelchair cane passes through the neck and out through his right eye.

Early in the morning to the home of Lisa Hughes came two police cars. Seizing a gun and shockers, police officers rushed to the staircase:

-bozhe my ...- probubnel senior lieutenant looking at the blood running down the stairs. Carefully lift them upward met with stony faces frightened crowd, which quickly fled their homes in panic. Arriving officers froze looking at the body of a woman lying in blood.

-Lord ..- nasty man said looking at the bloody inscription written by the victim's severed fingers - "witness".

[empresstress13]

Ariliel: Lost

A bit of backstory for my D&D character, Ariliel. AO3 Link

- “Papa!” Ariliel jolted awake, in pain and confused. 

Her whole body ached and there was a sharp pain in her ribs when she tried to sit up. She immediately fell back down onto the bed, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she tried to rise once more - slowly this time.

“Please lay down! Extra stress could worsen your injuries!” a woman in deep blue robes moved quickly from behind a curtain towards Ari. Her brows were furrowed and she appeared frazzled.  A glance about the room revealed a row of about ten beds lining the wall, each partially obscured by hanging curtains. “What is the last thing that you remember? Do you remember your name?” The woman fired off questions as she took Ari’s hand and searched for her pulse. The woman’s hands were cool to the touch as she counted the beats of Ari’s pulse. Ari tensed at the contact. The grip was firm and she struggled not to recoil.      

Where was Papa? She remembered. . .she remembered. . . 

-

The first day on the ship had been rather exciting, seeing Isyl’s enthusiasm over the sailing only doubled the feeling. Zephyrine had been more reserved, still unsure and nervous about leaving the only home they had ever known. The waves had been gentle and the skies blue that first day. 

The next morning the sunrise blazed a brilliant red across the horizon. . . Dark clouds rolled across the skyline throughout the morning, pushed along by strong winds. By midday the ship was in the midst of a terrible storm. . . 

Ari had been sent to their cabin below with her siblings. Papa was supposed to join them, but hadn’t come down yet. Isryl was curled up close to her side. Zephyrine gripping her hand tight. She tried to stay calm. . . .She nudged Isryl towards Zephy before standing. “Wait! Ari!” Zephyrine’s voice cracked with emotion. “I’ll be right back.” She tried to smile softly at Zephy. Like Papa would do. She needed to go find Papa. . . 

Ari was thrown about the interior of the ship trying to get up on deck; the rough swells of waves crashing into the ship and tossing it back and forth. When Ari finally made it to the door of the deck she was out of breath. The wind and rain was harsh enough that she could barely make out the figures on deck. Clarity of sight and sound stolen in the pound of the rain, wind, and waves. Ari stepped out of the doorway, still clutching the frame, trying to get a better look. The storm lashed against her face. She could just make out a flash of long white hair across the deck.

“Papa!” Ari let go of the door and started to rush towards her Papa. At the same moment a gigantic wave crashed against the side of the ship. Ari was flung sharply to the side, her torso hitting the railing of the ship with a crack. She tried to hold on to that railing but her arm and side throbbed with pain. Ari thought she heard her Papa’s voice rise above the tempest, calling her. She tried to call back, but her ribs ached when she tried to draw in breath to shout. 

Ari frantically scanned the deck for her Papa, finding the familiar figure racing towards her, his hair streaming behind him. Ari met his eyes and tried to start towards him. Another crash of waves tossed the ship harshly. “Ariliel! No!” A barrel not properly secured went flying into Ari, the impact knocking her over the railing. Her head smacking sharply against the side as she fell. As waves enveloped her the world went dark.

- 

“I. . . My name is Ariliel! I was on a ship. With my Papa! And my brother and sister! I. . . I fell overboard. . . I think I might have hit my head? Please, where is my Papa?”

The woman paused in her physical examination of Ariliel, her stern face flickering briefly with an emotion that Ari could not name. “You were found on the beach by priests of the temple of Procan. This temple. What is your family name?. . . Perhaps your family is looking for you. . .”

Ari paused. . . .Papa didn’t have a family name? Or at least never used one in front of her. . . “Um. . . Saekiir maybe? Papa’s name is Akemi!” 

The woman nodded slowly, “We will send out word to nearby settlements to see if we can find anyone looking for you. In the meantime you will remain here and heal.”

Ari bit her lip “I- . . . Thank you.” She tried to remain calm and breath deeply as the healer - priest? - continued her physical examination, finally announcing that she was recovering well. Ari did not want to stay here and wait by herself. She was sure that Papa was frantic with worry. Isryl and Zephyrine would be scared. She hoped Papa could comfort them through his own concerns. . . She had to be mature and think about this logically. She just had to wait for word from Papa. . . What she wanted though was her family. She wanted to hear Isryl’s giggles and see Zephyrine’s smiles. She wanted her parents. Papa’s soothing voice. Mama’s comforting embrace. Nanae’s strength.      

It would be fine. She just had to wait. 

~~~~

Days turned into a week. Which turned into two weeks. There had been no word from her Papa. Or any news at all. Ari had been moved from the healing ward into the dormitories of the novice acolytes. She quickly noticed that there seemed to be a distinct split between two unofficial types of novices. There were those who came from rich families - the ones who had been sponsored by families who gave generously to the temple. They received generous allowances, care packages, and family visits. And then there were those novices that were not from that background. Those from hard working families, and those who were orphaned or “found” by the temple. 

Ari was in a dormitory with the later. The novices that shared the room were kind and friendly. Several of them had given her a tour of the temple library and shared recommendations on books there. It was not a terrible place by any means. Ari recognized that she should be grateful to be healed and housed. But it wasn’t home, and she missed her family, and. . . there were whispers and occasional comments that did bother Ari. 

Implications that her family wasn’t looking for her. That she had been lying about her family existing at all. 

Ari tried very hard to channel her Papa. He was always elegant, and calm, and completely in control of the situation no matter how trying it might be. ‘It will be fine’, and ‘I just have to wait a bit longer’ became her internal refrain.

It was difficult to remain calm with little sleep however. Ari had a recurring dream every night since the first day she had woken up at the temple. A great white turtle covered in barnacles making its way through the waves, surrounded by glowing lights in the ocean. Seeing the turtle in the dreams caused a feeling of calm to swell in Ari’s chest but . . . when she woke up, she felt restless.  At first she had assumed it was just the strangeness of being in an unfamiliar place… particularly after a bad experience.

After the first five nights, however, Ari began to suspect that something was trying to communicate with her. Nanae and Mama and told her that dreams could be messages or have hidden meanings.  

At first Ari went to her friends at the dormitory to see if they knew anything about dreams, but had no luck there. So she decided to ask one of the priests about dreams as signs or messages. Ari couldn’t find the priest who ran the healing ward, but was able to find an older priest leaving the main sanctuary and asked him about the subject. “Dreams, you say? Why would you need to know about dreams?” The priest glanced at her briefly before continuing to walk as he spoke to her, “Are you not the young lady who was brought to us by the storm?” He was tall and Ari had to struggle to keep up with his strides. Ari’s nose wrinkled a bit, she was starting to wish she’d waited to find the healer priest instead “Yes, dreams! I’ve. . .I was just wondering because I’ve been having strange dreams every night! There is a giant white sea turtle that is covered in barnacles and-” The priest had maintained pace until she mentioned the sea turtle. He stopped abruptly and mumbled something unintelligible before his hand came out to steer Ari around, interrupting her explanation. He briskly started walking her back towards the novice dormitories.  “Hey! Wh- what are you doing? Can’t you explain? Or at least tell me where to find more information!” The elderly priest sighed deeply as they arrived at the novice dormitories. “Sister Marella should have made this clear earlier. We sent out inquiries for your family as a courtesy, but there has obviously been no response. Whoever was on that ship with you is dead.”

Any calm that Ari had maintained was shattered, “That’s absolute BULLSHI-”

“You will maintain a civil tongue!” The priests face became thunderous before relaxing into a more benign expression. It looked like pity. Ari hated it. “You should thank Procan that you were saved. You have my condolences for your loss, but you were brought here for a reason. You will begin as a novice tomorrow.” The priest turned away in a swirl of blue and green robes before Ari could respond. He did not look back at her once. Ari could feel the start of hot tears falling from her eyes. Her fingernails bit into the tender skin of her palms as she tried to breathe deeply like Papa told her to when she was upset or scared.  She wanted to curse and scream and. . . She needed to breath. She needed to breath and be calm and logical and. . . .she’d figure out something. 

~~~~

Ariliel waited till the middle of the night to leave the temple. They apparently were used to “novice acolytes” going to bed early after a day working at the temple (She wasn’t an acolyte. There was no reason for her to stay here. She didn’t want to stay here). Ari was used to staying up late with her family to moon and star gaze. Her parents would tell stories to her and her siblings about the stars and the pictures they made. How each constellation would move with the seasons. . .  

Ariliel didn’t necessarily think that the priest of Procan would physically force her to stay at the temple if she tried to leave. She didn’t think so. . . .but from the way they had talked to her before, she was sure they would kick up a fuss about her being “young” and “put into their charge by the sea” or whatever nonsense.

And frankly, Ari was a bit ticked off at the way they had been talking and looking at her today. Once everyone in the dormitory had fallen asleep, Ari slipped out of a ground floor window and made her way along the coast. She would find her family herself. 

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Looking for a political message in The Last Black Man in San Francisco is like looking for a Big Mac in Italy: you’ll probably find one, but you’re kind of missing the point. The opening is one of those things that exists for how it looks and how it sounds: a lollipop-sucking little girl skips down the sidewalk past Hazmat-suited cleaners, and eventually past a suited street preacher yelling about the water being poisoned. Across the street, two ordinary guys wait for the bus. It has much to say about gentrification, home and identity, but these images of ordinary life are at the heart of it.

Jimmie Fails, played by Jimmie Fails---and what a name---is a young black man who has watched as his family home in San Francisco, built by his grandfather, has fallen to gentrification. The elderly white couple who owns it now has let it become ensconced in vines and other foliage, let the paint rot, let age set in without offering a balm. With his best friend and slightly nutty would-be playwright Montgomery (Jonathan Majors), he sneaks in when the owners aren’t there to do repairs. This comes off as a strange eccentricity early in the movie, at least for me; I went in completely blind, and so knew nothing about his connection to the house. When they aren’t repairing the house, Jimmy and Montgomery live with the latter’s blind grandfather (Danny Glover), and Jimmie deals with his bitter, defeated father (Rob Morgan). Eventually, the elderly couple is evicted in an inheritance spat, and Jimmie decides to move into the old house.

Running parallel to this is a storyline involving Kofi (Jamal Trulove), a childhood friend of the pair, who was in homes with the abandoned Jimmy when they were children. Kofi is leader of a gang who mostly hangs out on the sidewalk outside Montgomery’s place and makes sure everyone knows he is a tough customer. Invited to the old house for the evening, he tells stories from the past and bonds with his friends. Back on the street, he says hurtful things to cover up his own insecurities. That is a theme in the film, the covering-up of things. It is in both the images and the characters. Jimmie is covering up his pain of abandonment by trying to reclaim an old piece of himself. Montgomery is a bit more refined than the now-adult children he grew up with, and attempts to find the ordinary person in himself by studying the manners of Kofi and his crew. A callous tour guide reads from a pre-memorized script. People who have been hurt bury their hurts in excuses and rationalizations.

Isn’t that just the slow, sad way of things? The movies too often spend their time exploring toughness---the rugged individuality that is undoubtedly part of the American character, spurring us to new horizons and endeavors. They spend comparatively little time really exploring connection and tenderness, the way we strive, almost from the first moment of independence, to regain a measure of the closeness we enjoyed in older days. When they do explore this, it is often saccharine and given to grand cinematic gestures that simply don’t reflect how people actually relate to one another. This film aims for something different. The central thesis is that we do long for connection, that we do not benefit in the whole from hiding this longing, and that society, fearful of true, non-greeting card connections, works overtime to ensure we never show it. The major story beat in the film, which changes what we know, also does not change it, because it is as much about self-image as it is about any house.

Kofi’s eventual fate is emblematic of this, and here, to do the film justice, I must discuss a spoiler. After a very bad day with the house, Jimmie and Montgomery return to find that Kofi has been killed in an altercation. His gang confronts them when they ask what happened; it is a show of dominance. One of them gets right up in Jimmie’s face---then break down and cries on his shoulder. It is as true a moment as you will find in film. How often do we even see movies acknowledge that men can or should cry?

I need to take a moment from talking about the movie’s emotions to discuss its visuals, because the world Jimmie and Montgomery inhabit is as much a part of their characters, their souls, and it exists both with them and around them. A gate to a construction site is slowly opened as if it led to Hades; inside, men jackhammer concrete in slow motion. The inside of Jimmie’s house is dusty and unused, hanging with memories, enhanced by everything being made of undecorated wood. Montgomery leans out over his balcony off the top of his house, which looks like a cake, and looks down the street at the low-level skyline. Jimmie skateboards toward the camera while a tall hill festooned with lights comes aglow in the early evening. Even a bus ride is made to be gorgeous, with scenery going by in such a way that the bus appears for a second to be moving backwards. No doubt, on and around that hill and those streets are other stories. A city is an organism. Adam Newport-Berra is the film’s cinematographer, and he focuses on shots that emphasis the history of everything around us.

When the film made the indie festival rounds, the story of where it came from was widely told: Joe Talbot and Fails were childhood friends, and it is based on Fails’ own loss of his family home and routing through the caretaking system. Though Talbot is the director, Fails (with their friend Rob Richert) is co-writer, and it is their film together, a labor of love in the truest sense. Fails has a career in front of him if he wants it, though I wouldn’t begrudge him not wanting it---he has here presented his story and his feelings and those of many others left behind by the system, by a world that never stops advancing long enough to look back.

Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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