#I must do things right so my baby sisters have a path that is lit

[watercolored-life]

How do we forgive ourselves for the things we did not become? How do we live with ourselves after things don’t go right? How can find peace after the plan has been mucked up? How can we?

[annachum]

Spider Rhapsody

There is a power in a family name, and a foolishness in isolation. It seemed the Tarantallas were destined to discover this bit of information for the rest of their days.

Even if this particular district didn't know Constanza by name, there was an air to her walk, and the way she held her brows that sent a clear message to back away. What it was about her face and her walk signified her message, they never quite knew. She didn't appear royal, but there was regality. Her expression wasn't disgusted, but there in her eyes glowed a power that she had seen the worst of the world and lived to tell the tale. So the sinners swept back from her path instinctively.

She exhaled a ribbon of pink smoke as she moved down the sidewalk. Her white boots paved her way, unmarked by the dirt and filth of the street. Her quick visit to Rosie's Emporium was a nice breath of air after the week inside.

The television sets droned around her, but she was accustomed to the endless praddle that tacky television overlord spewed every hour. She marches right by. Until she heard him say, "The Hotel."

There was only one 'hotel' that would warrant news. The one her youngest child lived.

"Things are taking a turn for the worse as lines are drawn all across Pentagram City!" Vox said far too brightly to signify any sort of true danger broiling in the alleys. "I'd say the forecast is 'stay indoors' as much as possible til the worst blows over."

She lowered her pearl rimmed sunglasses to peer suspiciously at the screen.

"You know what they say. Keep your loved ones close. We wouldn't want anyone in that hotel to be at a strategic disadvantage because someone was just walking down 69th Boulevard. Alone. Unguarded. Accidents happen." He leaned forward on an elbow as his voice took a low, charming lilt.

"Look around you. It could be anyone's Father. Sister. Brother." The screens flitted, until they rolled together into one image of his leering face, triple her height. " Or mother."

Constanza took a step back.

His grin spread. Synthetic teal lights gleamed from his teeth.

"Gotcha."

Her pulse thumped.

Look away.

She should just turn her head and leave.

Just like Angel warned her.

Never look him in the eye.

Never look him in the --

Her hands fell to her sides.

Her gaze went blank as the symbols and waves spun in her irises. Her dark painted lips parted in a daze.

Her heart beat slowed. Her head filled with a soft fuzz. Everything was fine. All her worries melted away.

And yet, not enough.

Her mind hissed at her to snap out of it. Don't let him get to you. Angel had carefully laid out what to do. Look away, cover your eyes. Her hands refused to move.

Vox must have sensed her resistance to his pull. She put up much more of a fight to his charm than the rabble of reporters.

"Relax, honey. I'm not gonna hurt you."

The voice calmed her, while it simultaneously lit a flame inside her pulse. 'Honey'? How dare he speak to her like this. After how he treated her family? Using a soothing, Mr. Rogers', gentle voice like she was a child. Her fingertips tingled. She burned to throw a web into his camera.

But his seal held her still.

"I promise to let you on your happy way, cross my heart, hon. You wanna tell me where your family is squatting? I know they're hiding somewhere."

At least not moving made it simple not to speak.

"Aw, nothing?" Vox drew a little heart along the camera screen with a glowing fingertip. "Y'know, I just got a special message from someone I'm sure you've heard of. He's a friend of mine. And a real special friend of your son's."

She knew the laugh before the face floated into her blurry vision. The eyes were lost behind the heart-shaped glasses. His smile was slick with red poison.

"Well, well, well. Aren't you as lovely as a ripe peach. Looove the lipstick, baby. If you ever tried to smile, you'd be the loveliest creature of ever laid eyes on. In fact, the last time I saw someone this delectable, I had him chained to my bedposts."

He blew out a cloud of crimson. It twirled into an elegant, wispy silhouette of her youngest child.

Her shoulders shook.

"Why don't you wait right there for us, Bellassima?"

To hear Valentino purr out a beautiful word her own husband had kissed against her shoulder made her brow knit, despite however hard Vox tried to hold her.

"We'll bring you right up to my penthouse. I'll phone up your pretty boy, let him know we're taking real nice care of you. And who knows? We'll see if my darling Angel inherited more than just your looks." His words trailed off in a low chuckle.

Vox rolled his eyes. "Geez Louis, Val. Right here in front of everyone?"

"You're such a prude," Valentino shoved him away.

Suddenly, quite suddenly, the world was a thundercloud of ruby smoke. Sparkles and gunpowder burst in a chaotic rush.

Constanza's head cleared. She shook off the hypnotic hold on her body. She stepped away, slapping herself back to her senses.

The smoke rolled away. The television screens flickered and blurred patterns of

broken rainbows.

Someone gripped her arm.

She yanked it free and whirled.

Oh. It wasn't one of the V's goons. It was Angel's wild friend, Cherri. Cherri with the raggedy hair, raggedy flair for style, and a raggedy smile across her freckled face.

"Better steer clear of any video screens, Connie!"

Constanza scowled. She disliked Cherri's love for nicknaming everything, but it was better than other words she could use. And she was grateful for the intervention.

Constanza pushed her sunglasses back up over her eyes.

"Did Anthony send you to watch me?"

"Nah! Just crossing by. Just be your lucky day, Connie! C'mon! Let's leg it!"

She made a swipe for Constanza's fingerless gloves. This time, Constanza let her.

Their flight was dangerous. The long skirts around her high boots were not meant for

running. But neither were the mismatched shoes Cherri had plucked from a power line. They tore through the crowd who hurriedly jumped out of their way.

--

Constanza drew her arms below her skirts to slide them aside. The rolls of chiffon slid across her bared arms. She sat atop the vanity seat.

She held a make up wipe to her eye. She lifted it away. It clouded about her eye, making her appear all the more exhausted.

She gazed fully upon her reflection.

The months dragged on within the depths of the Tarantella Manor. The decor, in all its  splendor, was a prison of it's own. The family had faced everything together. And yet, even as the war broiled out there, the only safe place for her was here in the heart of her home.

The door at the far end of the bedroom opened. She used the mirror to watch as her eldest son entered.

He crossed the ornant rug to her side. He tipped his head. Dark fluffs fell around his magenta eyes. "Papa's back."

"Alive, I'd wager," Constanza said.

Arakniss shrugged. "Mostly."

"Will you bring him up?"

Arakniss nodded.

He bent down. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. She hardly moved. As he stepped away, she longed to put her hand atop his. But she felt empty.

She slid open the drawer of her dresser. She didn't need to look. Her hand slid within. She gripped the handle of a knife. Slowly, she drew it out into the light.

The door opened again.

Henroin stumbled into the room. A thick aroma of dried blood almost drowned the scent of gunpowder. He fell against a walking stick as he dragged himself across the threshold.

"Mi amore. We've done it!"

Her shoulders relaxed.

The breath she felt like she'd held for months finally left her chest. She rose and turned.

"Of course you did," she said briskly. She swept her hands over her dressing gown. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

She watched as he fell across the bed. He emitted a deep groan.

"You did have to go and get shot though."

His low laugh rumbled through the mattress. "I couldn't help myself. I needed you to fawn over me when I returned." He turned his head. His eyes locked on the knife in her slim, white hand.

"I hope that wasn't for me."

She switched it to her secondary right hand. "Not today, cara mia."

She marched across the room. She yanked his blood-splattered suit jacket from his

arms. The shirt followed. His dark, bristly fur matted in two places. One just shy of his scapula. The other deep into his waist.

"I noticed Salvatore was having trouble walking too."

Henroin grunted. "He practiced so long to make sure you wouldn't notice it was broken."

"You can never hide that from a mother," she said. She laid a cloth down beside them. She brought out the tweezers to remove the bullet.

The muscles twitched against the metal points. She continued her to fight the led cylinder out.

"Anthony isn't with you?"

Henrion shook his head. "He took a real working over. We had to leave him with Charlie. I'll bring you over. It'll do you good to walk around. You know they let Molly down to offer a hand?"

He hissed as Constanza pulled.

"Something about getting special healing gifts. I didn't understand all her prattle about it. But he'll be fine."

Constanza poured rubbing alcohol onto her handkerchief. She pressed it against the wound.

"You remember the day Cherri brought me back?" She asked. Her voice sounded distant.

Henroin sighed. "I owe her for that. You might have been stuck in that penthouse all this time. We would have just got to you out."

She watched the knots in his back grow tight at the thought.

Constanza lowered her gaze to the knife.

"I wish she wouldn't have stopped him."

Henroin lurched about. He moved too quick. He gripped the bed clothes and his teeth clenched. He regained his composure and stared at her face.

Her lip was tight. Her eyes, dry, tired, smudged with eyeliner. Her face was soft with white fur, fur that shone down to her open shoulders. The sweeps of the night clothes held her in loose webs of blushcolored chiffon.

"Don't you say that," Henroin said in a low growl.

"No one ever had gotten close to Valentino," she slid the knife from the leather sheath. The silver metal flashed in the lamp light. She held up the blade. She stared at her reflection. "He would have brought me inside. And I could have sliced his tongue out. And his lungs. And then his heart. And then--"

Henroin put his hands over hers. Slowly, he pushed her fists to the bed. He then moved his fingers to her face. He held her pale face with his dark palms.

"I would have loved to see you do it. But I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he laid one parasite ridden finger on you."

Her lips pressed tight together. "Then how do I live with myself?"

Henroin watched as the tears rolled from her eyes to his thumbs. He pulled her close in a hug.

Her head rested against his shoulder.

"I know we could never protect them from the world. But did it have to go like this?"

He carefully moved, as not to strain the newly cleaned wounds, to wrap his arms tight around her. He fell back atop his mattress.

He held her as she fit perfectly against his body. They were bent, but not broken

Burned, but safe.

--

The edges of his vision grew less gray. He managed to force open his heavy lids.

Purple.

He relaxed.

Good.

His was in his room.

The lights strung around his bedposts and up around the canopy gave a gentle illumination, coupled with his meager collection of neon lights. He turned his head over his silken pillow cases.

His heart thumped.

Molly!

He rose, too quickly. He thumped back against his pillows, hissing. He set his teeth. (His teeth felt funny). His fluff of hair fell in a mess around his scratched cheeks. Careful this time of his recoverung wounds. He glanced down.

Just below his solar-plexius, a brace held him secure. Considering how bad of a beating he took, he should be a lot more turn up.

Gingerly, he pushed himself up to his elbows.

He reached out for Molly's arm.

She laid sprawled over her his Roman chair. Fat Nuggets snuggled on her lap. Her mouth was open as she breathed, showing the faint lines of a split lip.  His little pet's rapid, piglet breaths rushed in and out under Molly's fingerless glove. Angel's fingers brushed her exposed fur on her upper arm.

She jumped.

"Wassat? Who's there? Who--"

She stopped. Her smile squished her cheeks deep into her eyes. "Tony!" She leapt onto his bed. This dumped Fat Nuggets up with him on the blankets. She flung her slim around around his shoulders. "You're okay, you're okay, YOU'RE OKAY!"

"Easy, Mol! Yeah, I'm fine. Considering the crap I just crawled though, I feel great! Dunno how, though. Really t'ought I was dead back there." He shuffled the brace to one side. "Didn't Val shoot me with a--"

Molly stopped him. "Don't pull it off yet. It's got another twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" Angel frowned at her. "Waaaait. You're tellin' me... you finally learned how to stitch a suture?"

"Oh, better than that. I fixed up the whole thing!" She folded her arms. "All recruits are taught basics in medical fields, from jammed fingers to broken femurs."

"Good t'ing I didn't have that."

"Aaand, I even fixed your tooth!"

"Y' what?"

"Wait til y' see it!" She hurried over to his dressing table.

Angel probed at his teeth with his tongue. His artificial fang did feel a little tender. But again, considering what he'd survived, this wasn't a shock.

Fat Nuggets bumped one of his arms. Angel rubbed his head. "Yeah, daddy's doing fine, Nugs."

Molly bounced back over to the beside. She held a hand mirror. "Okay, so, I'm gonna be honest and stuff. I'm not the best at this healing business and all. You might get a scar here or there, y'know?"

"It bette' not be some place important. I swear, sis, if I look like Frankenstein's monster--"

"Gosh, no. Nothing like that."

She shuffled in her seat. "So, your tooth was knocked out. And, I didn't think you'd want gold again,  like your lamp-headed old boss. And I didn't have rose gold, so..."

She handed him the mirror.

He lifted his lip.

His gum was a lot brighter where his golden fang used to shine. But instead of a bright gold, his new fang was a soft white gold. If he tipped his head, it would still catch the light and shimmer.

It's subtle, gentle, and rather beautiful.

Molly tugged at her fingers. "Is it... okay?"

"I kinda love it," he admitted. The shine went well with his pink markings. "Thanks, Mol."

"Away, don't mention it!"

Her phone chimed.

Molly lifted it from the table. She checked the notification.

"Looks like the whole kitten caboodle is here for ya!"

Angel fixed his hair back in place. "All of 'em?" He looked up, face glowing with hope. "Even Mom?"

"Yep! Even Mom!"

"Whatcha waitin' for? Send 'em up!" He scooted up the pillows to pull himself into a proper sitting position.

"Need help?"

"Nah, nah. Lay off. I got this--" he lurched with a jolt, flopping into her arms. " 'kay, maybe I don't got t'is. You ain't got an extra hand, do ya?"

Molly giggled. "Y'know it, Little Brother."

--

Charlie opened the windowed doors of the hotel. Mr. Tarantella has to duck a bit to get through. Arakniss still stubbornly insists his leg is uninjured and walks on the sharp point without wobbling. Mrs. Tarantella holds tight to her husband's arms. Whether she's helping him, as his other hand weighs heavily of his ornate walking stick, or if she's unable to let herself part from him again is a mystery Charlie does not pry into.

She leads them up the double flight of carpeted stairs, and over the balcony to Angel's room.

She knows that this is a family matter, and leaves them with the room key.

The door opens.

Angel is mostly upright.

Fat Nuggets is flopped on one side with his tummy to the wall. Molly is in the chair. Angel throws his head back against his pillow as he laughs.

"Stop, stop! I can't laugh yet! It hurts!"

She hastily apologizes.

They hear the door.

Angel's face is ridden with anxious awareness as he sees his mother. He remembers to smile. "Hey Mom."

It's hard to admit, but there are times when people like Valentino are right. In this instance, maybe Val hadn't really meant it. But when Constanza Tarantella saw her son, alive, and grinning in a lopsided way...

As the smile lit up her face and rushed to hold her little boy in her arms, there was never a more beautiful lady in Hell.

*special credit to Hannah Latray on Instagram, who collaborated with me on this fic!

[saintsofwarding]

BURIAL

Chapter 12

Come find me, Donna!

A little girl, running through the sunlit garden, her black hair flying behind her as she raced through golden birch trees.

Come and find me!

No. It didn't have to be this way. But it always was. She crushed her hands over her eyes. The yellow flowers were all around, clustering against her, roots twining deep into her skin. Deep, deep inside her, like a parasite.

Don't look don't look don't look.

It squirmed in the back of her skull, spasming in time with her heartbeat.

(It's you and me. Always was! Don't deny it. We only need each other, don't we?)

But it was always her hands, always her that felt it. Always her that did it. She took her hands away. She couldn't help it. She never could.

Claudia stood before her grinning, hands full of flowers, torn up by their roots. They dripped not dirt, but blood, bright and raw and gushing to the grass.

"You found me," she said.

Hands over the eyes. It always has to be this way. And when she looked again, as always, the little girl was gone.

***

"You can never go down to the village," Donna's mother told her. "You set foot past the gates alone, you even think of crossing the bridge, and I'll break your legs myself. I'll take a hammer to you like Lord Heisenberg and break them so badly you shall never walk again. Do you understand?"

She seized Donna by the shoulders.

"She'll come for you," she whispered. "She knows. Who you are, what you're capable of. And if you let her she'll worm into your mind. Like she did when I was a child."

Her eyes fluttered shut. "Bernadette, she called. And I went to her, and my memories after are black pits full of weeping. Years and years and still she has me. I can hear her, even now. She calls to me. She'll call to you. And to Claudia."

The baby slept in their mother's arms. Donna looked at her, the little girl, so precious and so innocent. What did she dream about? What had Donna dreamt of, once, before she became aware of the birdcage world she lived in?

She remembered her parents. Lord and Lady Beneviento in their finery, standing on the manor steps as Mother Miranda came to view the infant. She'd cooed and hummed to little Claudia, laid her clawed hand on the child's head, golden eyes glimmering with something that was almost love.

Donna, hiding behind her mother's legs, had stared up at the Black God's prophetess with furrowed brow, and Miranda's eyes flicked and lit on her.

"Such a serious little thing," Miranda told her. "Don't think I've forgotten about you, Mistress Donna."

Donna blinked. "Forgotten about what?"

"Your potential. You have it. Strong as anything. You carry the blood of the Black God's chosen, child, and never forget. But your sister..."

Still she stroked the baby's head.

"What about my sister?" Donna piped up. "What's wrong with her?"

"Wrong? Nothing. On the contrary. She has great affinity. The greatest." Miranda looked back to Donna's parents, their faces pale and drawn.

"She may prove perfect," Miranda told them.

And her mother gripped her shoulder, so hard it hurt. Later Donna counted the bruises left by her fingers in the bath. One, two, three, four, five.

"You must stay away," her mother warned. "Far away. You and Claudia, always."

Maybe that was why. They leapt from the cliff and Donna screamed and screamed, hiding Claudia's eyes, hugging the little girl as she sobbed into Donna's chest. Later, Donna crept down the cliff path to look for them on the riverbank. Maybe they would be there, springing up between the rocks like marionettes, saying surprise, darling, here we are! It was only a trick!

But she found them, and it wasn't a trick. She gathered their pieces, walked gingerly through the blood. She tried to put them back together but when she was done they didn't look right at all. Some parts were smashed out of shape. Some were missing. Some just...didn't fit. Maybe if she sewed them together, then they'd fit again.

She didn't try. She sat with them, holding her mother's hand. It was one of the few pieces that was still recognizable.

Maybe Miranda had whispered to them. Fly, like I do. Maybe she had wormed her way into their minds and simply unmoored them. Maybe they had only realized they were falling after their feet had left the cliffside.

Either way, it meant there was no one left to protect them. Donna and Claudia, all alone in the big, empty house.

***

Elena moved through the house like a sleepwalker. It loomed around her, a darkened reflection of the real thing, as if she'd stepped through Donna's obsidian mirror and into the shadow world on the far side. Dolls clustered everywhere, on furniture, in corners, sitting at the dining table as if waiting for her to join them, chittering and whispering and giggling to one another.

She heard their footsteps in the echoes of her own, felt their little porcelain fingers plucking at her skirts as she passed by.

She was silent, drawn along as if by a string.

She looked into the kitchen. Donna and Claudia huddled by the stove, Donna no older than nine or ten, tucking a blanket around Claudia's shoulders. They looked like a pair of urchins, clothes ragged, hands gloved, noses red and chapped, crouching over the meager flames.

"I'm cold," Claudia whispered.

"I'll find more wood. Later. Right now, look what I have for you." With a flourish, Donna produced a doll- a crude clay thing dressed in scraps of lace.

"My own Angie!" Claudia took the doll and hugged it. The real Angie sat on the windowsill. Her face was uncracked, her dress clean. A pretty thing, made for a child.

Claudia held the little doll up to the flames. "I wish I could make her warmer."

"Worry about yourself first, Claud."

"Then I wish I was warmer."

"This is just like our ancestors did, a long time ago," Donna told her. "Berengario and his family and apprentices...deep in the snows with the monster wolves howling, crouching in the ruins of an ancient monastery for warmth and protection. They made shadow lanterns with scraps of paper and told stories on the walls. Hands and paper and their own minds, imagining it even as the cold chewed at them."

She stroked her little sister's hair with one thin, pallid hand. They all looked one of a kind, she and Claudia and their mother and their father, cousins bearing the same surname, the scions of an anemic branch. Now they were the last.

"Do you remember what Mama said about Berengario?" Donna asked.

Claudia nodded, fiddling with her new doll's dress. "He cut off his own hand," she murmured. "To feed the starving. So they wouldn't have to go for the children."

Donna nodded.

"Is that what Mama and Papa did? Leaped from the cliff because they were starving, to stop themselves from eating us?"

Donna shook her head. She didn't know how to answer that.

Claudia looked up at her. "Can't you go down into the village? Find more wood for us?"

"No. Remember what Mama said? We don't go past the ravine."

"If...if we only asked for help, maybe Mother Miranda would-"

"No!" Donna's voice was too sharp for such a young child. "No. We don't go to her. We don't ever. Understand?"

Claudia looked away, pouting.

"Ever," Donna repeated. "She'll...she'll forget about us eventually. She will. We just have to be quiet as mice. Can you do that, little mouse?"

Claudia nodded, silent, and even Elena could see the hurt in her eyes, the confusion. The yearning for safety, for an end to the cold. For someone to come save them, someone stronger than her older sister, barely more than a child herself, despite all her best efforts.

"Just think of summertime," Donna told her. "We can go dance in the woods. We can light candles and pretend we're forest spirits."

"...That sounds nice."

"Just imagine it really, really hard. The sun on your skin. Then it's almost like you're warm. If you try hard enough it almost feels real."

***

The dark closed in. Claudia was a child, bright and sunny, laughing in the garden amidst yellow flowers. She raced ahead, pigtail whipping over her shoulder.

Come find me!

***

Elena drifted to the next room. Donna and Claudia faded, and then reappeared; Claudia ran into the room, older, now, and dressed in a lightweight summer frock the color of buttercups, matching ribbons tied in her hair.

"Donna! Look!" She whirled, the dress's skirts flying. Donna descended the stairs, a skinny teenager with black hair drawn into a severe plait. Her eyes widened as she took Claudia in.

"Where did you get that dress?" she snapped.

"Mother left it for me!"

"Mama's dead."

"No! Not our mother. I mean Mother Miranda." Claudia dipped a low curtsy. Donna dashed down the steps and shoved her little sister, hard.

"Hey!" Claudia yelped.

"You're so stupid. Don't you ever listen? Where is she?" "She brought it to the bridge. It's a present."

"You don't accept her gifts. Ever."

"Why not? It's so pretty. She said I was growing up strong." She frowned. "She said I was even more perfect than before. What does that mean?"

"Nothing. She's a liar. If you want a stupid dress, I can make you one. A better one."

"No you can't," Claudia told her, frankly. "You barely have any fabric left. You have to take apart all Mama's pretty clothes to make anything new."

"I can...I can take apart the green velvet robe. You always loved her green velvet robe. Please, Claudia, please." She fell to her knees in front of her sister, gripping her hands. "Please don't ever go to her again. All right?"

"Because of what Mama told you?"

"Yes."

"Mama's dead," Claudia said, an echo of what Donna had just told her. "She jumped and left us. I don't care what she says anymore."

"Please," Donna said. She drew her sister closer. "Please, Claud, please. You're all I have left, you're all I have in the world. Don't leave me. Don't leave."

She pulled Claudia into a hug, her face pressed into her sister's shoulder, her arms wrapped around the child's body, holding her tight. Too tight.

Later, Claudia would count the bruises in the bath.

***

Donna covered her eyes, then peeked, and Claudia was there, face bright with mirth. She took after their father in that way.

Don't look, Donna!

***

The children faded into shadow. The house darkened around them. As Elena climbed the stairs she heard the echo of voices down the halls, through the mezzanine, small ghosts chasing one another in the dark. The dolls thronged around her, more of them than ever. Donna walked from the darkness and back into it, carrying a lit candle. Claudia followed her, laughing, arms full of cut flowers.

Years and years, flickering against the walls. Elena glimpsed it all. Shadow plays and forts built from broken furniture in the attic. Their father's old puppets scavenged from storage and made to chatter and dance. Dress-up in antique ballgowns and paper crowns, festooned with wildflowers gathered from hedgerows and ditches. Scraped knees and lost teeth. Bird's nests and amber earrings. Overgrown gardens and hiding in cupboards to giggle and argue and shush each other, in case the ghosts overheard. A groundskeeper and his family came to stay in the house on the hill, but they rarely saw the two Beneviento heiresses. Sometimes, Donna and Claudia almost forgot there was a world past the ravine at all.

Two young girls, like lost princesses in a fairy-story, wearing balding velvet and ragged satin, little beaded slippers all covered with mud. Somewhere came the rustle of wings; the wind rose and fell, stirring Elena's hair.

"She says I'm ready."

Claudia stood in the darkness. Around her, House Beneviento had ceased to have any structure; it was all cut up and pasted back together at wrong angles, more like an impression of a house instead of the reality. A memory.

There was a small bed near her, and a window, looking out into a starless night. Donna stood opposite, at the door.

"She says it's a gift from the Black God," Claudia told her. "She called it the Cadou. It means present. It gives you powers. Miracles! Like Lord Moreau and Lady Dimitrescu. And Lord Heisenberg. I know you like him. You think he's funny."

"He's not very nice."

"But funny-not-very-nice."

"We talked about this, Claud. We've always talked about this." Donna drew closer. "Why do you want to go to her so badly? It's enough up here, right?"

"It's cold."

"I...I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I miss them. Mama and Papa." She hugged her arms around herself. "Miranda said...when I accept her gift I'll be in a family again. She'll be my mama and I'll be in her family."

"Claudia, you have a family. I'm your family."

"You keep me trapped up here. I don't want to be trapped anymore. I want to go to the village, I want to dance! And Miranda will let me. She'll give me all the dresses I want."

"I know- I...I wanted the same thing, when I was little. But it's not safe. She's like a witch in that old story. She'll lure you away and trap you in a mirror and use your power for her own." Donna stepped closer. "I'll do anything you want, Claudia. I'll...I'll make you things. I'll find a way for us to get out. We can go through the forest, there's wolves but I can find a way. Just please, please stay with me. All right?"

Another step closer. She held out her hands. "Just say yes."

"She's coming tomorrow," Claudia said, shortly. "I told her I was ready."

Donna dropped her hands. "What?"

"I sent her a letter. I told her I'd made my decision. I want the gift, Donna. Maybe she'll give you one too."

"No."

"You're not Mama! She's everyone's mother. She told me. Inside. In my dreams. I can see it. Everything she promised. She can do that, Donna, and you can't!" Claudia stamped her little foot. "I don't want you anymore. I wish you'd go away! Jump off the cliff like Mama and Papa!"

"Shut up. That's enough."

"I hope Miranda makes you disappear," Claudia screamed. "You know, when I have my power I'll make you disappear. I hate you. I hate you-"

And then Donna was across the room, grabbing Claudia by the hands. The little girl kicked and screamed, but her sister was older, stronger; Donna threw Claudia onto the bed and shoved her face into the sheets- "Shut up, shut up, I'll tie you down if I have to so you can't run to her like the stupid little mouse you are-"

She cut off with a yelp as one of Claudia's heels clipped her on the chin, throwing her back. Red dripped onto her hand.

"You kicked me," she said in disbelief.

"Miranda!" Claudia's scream split the silence. Dolls whispered and whispered, eyes shining in the dark. "Miranda! Help me! Come find me! Come find-"

Elena tasted Donna's terror, bitter in her mouth. Donna was back on her knees, leaning over the girl in the bed. She needed to stop screaming. Nothing else mattered but that she needed to stop screaming. "Quiet," she whispered. "Quiet, please be quiet." Her hands pressed over Claudia's face. The girl struggled and kicked.

Donna pressed down harder, over her little sister's mouth, until she wasn't screaming at all anymore.

***

She buried her alone.

***

The dream washed through her like waves, and receded, and left her.

A flutter of heartbeats, a decade of years. The lives of two sisters, lived alongside them, gone in seconds. Reality smoothed over and settled. Elena drew breath, a sharp gasp of the subterranean air. Donna stood before her, Angie in her arms.

She'd gone back. Elena understood. Gone back alone and by the time she reached the house she knew she had to put it away. Donna Beneviento was a survivor. She'd mangled her own mind to do it. She'd buried Claudia so deep inside herself it was like she'd never died at all. Like it had been another girl's hands that had pressed over her mouth, another girl's hands that had smothered the life from her little sister.

Break the mirror, and you never have to look at your whole reflection again. Elena still felt the dirt beneath her own nails.

The grave, dug in the mud. Hacked out with shovels and then with hands.

The still cold body of the child lain to rest within.

"You went to Miranda," Elena said.

Donna nodded.

"You went to her because there was nothing left. You took her gift. The...Cadou."

Another nod.

"Oh, Donna," Elena whispered. A tear slid down her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Angie gave a little snort. "Not as sorry as you should be," she said, and flung her arms forward. She shoved Elena right in the chest. Elena, who was right by the edge of the old well.

Elena yelped. She tottered backward. The small of her back struck the lip of the well. No- It opened before her, a black pit into nothingness.

She didn't even scream. She tipped backward and fell.

A plunge through empty air, through darkness, wind rushing in her hair. She didn't even feel the bottom, just a crack of cold through her whole body, and then-

-nothing at all.

A darkness absolute.

Unconsciousness like death.

She came to slowly, with the second realization in a far-too short amount of time that she wasn't dead.

Elena floated in a good foot and a half of water. It had gotten in her mouth; she spat it out, plashing noisily as she righted herself; she was soaked through, filthy, so frigid she felt none of her extremities, her gasps echoing around her in the small stone space. She tipped her head back, but the well's mouth was a circle of black slightly lighter than the field of black around her. A sob tore at her throat, and despair clamped down, overwhelming, worse than the cold.

That was when she remembered the rungs.

A small hope. A foolhardy one.

She could hardly hold onto the first rung. It was only through an immense effort that she managed to lever herself to her knees at all, and she chewed down on a wail as the enormity of climbing all the way up to the gray circle struck her.

You have to, or you're going to die here.

She really would, she realized. Never before had it felt so real, so close. All she had to do was close her eyes and let the cold take her. Not so bad; that's what her pa said, anyway. Not so bad, to let the cold creep in, to let Father Wolf latch his kindly teeth in you. The cold would get unbearable, and then she would grow warm, and she would drift away.

Like going out to sea, like fading into the circle of white light, the window to the world glimpsed through old memories.

Nothing, then. No more revelations, no more hardship. No pain and watching people she loved suffer. No more reliving nightmares of dead children and guilt so profound it split the soul in two. The question of the world would be answered, then, her life drawing to a close with a whisper. And all would stay as it was, except that she had driven Donna to hardship, had put her father in danger. Except that she had made all things worse by her actions. And they would remain that way. For everyone. For herself. And there would be no resolution. No remedy. Nothing good, ever again, nothing in all the world.

She wouldn't be able to find Donna, to see if there was hope for a future together. And maybe she was a fool. And maybe none of it was real. Maybe the thing she loved was a shadow, already fading, already lost.

But, saints. She still had to try.

You're not going to die here.

She held on. Her foot went on the rung below. That's the way. She hoisted herself up. Her entire body shook, but she didn't let go. All she had to do was concentrate on not letting go. Another foot followed, and then the next.

It took what felt like hours, an eternity of shaking and freezing and darkness, but that gray circle grew closer, brighter, and the water retreated, the bottom of the well in the pit of House Beneviento, and when she reached the top she let go at last and spilled over the side, collapsing in a heap on the damp flagstones. She'd never felt anything better. Anything, she realized, going forward, was going to be better than the feeling of falling into that blackness, of lying there looking up at all the nothing above.

Donna...

She was nowhere to be seen. Elena crawled upright. Her shake had grown worse. She only had a limited amount of energy before she gave out entirely. She'd have to be fast. She looked up the steps and-

No, don't think, just do.

They were almost worse than the rungs, there were so many of them, and she couldn't see the end, but at last she was up them and in the doll workshop, in the basement of the house proper.

The air was almost warm in here. She half-limped half-crawled down the halls, supporting herself on the wall, leaving a smear of dark, watery filth behind her. She almost cried in relief when the elevator came into view, its interior light so warm and golden. It splintered in her vision.

She shoved herself along the last few steps and collapsed inside. The up button went click. She fell to her hands and knees, breathing hard, feeling like she might be sick.

Ding, went the elevator at the top.

Someone yanked back the gate.

Elena struggled to her feet at the dark silhouette before her. His beefy shoulders almost filled the hallway, round glasses reflecting the elevator light. Lord Heisenberg? Elena's exhausted brain struggled to comprehend.

"What are you doing here?" she burst out.

"Oh, wow, you look like shit," Heisenberg said. "Miranda sent me. Something about you getting up to some world-class fuckery."

Electricity sparked and spat, leaping from bar to bar on the gate. The chain that had secured Donna and Angie in the front hall snaked from nowhere and twanged, tight as a noose, around Elena's leg. With a wrench and pulse of blue energy, it yanked her bodily off her feet. She hit the ground with a thud, then swooped skyward, the hall spinning upside down.

Blood rushed to her head and she let out a strangled yelp, eyes wide as Heisenberg dangled her by the ankle like a hooked fish. He sauntered up to her, grinning, and cocked his head, bending to look her right in the eyes.

"Where's Donna?" Elena spat.

Heisenberg shrugged. "You should be worried about yourself, sweetheart. Guess what? You've won yourself a free trip back down to the village!"

***

He didn't make her walk, but wound the chain round her body and hoisted her into the air with his power, floating her along with one upraised finger. Blue energy crackled and spat round his body, wreathing him in its eerie glow; Elena's body prickled and hummed each time the sparks cascaded down her chains.

"You don't have to do this," Elena stammered. "I'm not trying to take down Miranda. Just free Donna. She's tortured by her power-"

"Good!" Heisenberg looked up at her. "She's inflicted it enough on others, why not have a taste of her own medicine? You wouldn't think it to look at her, would you? Looks kinda sweet, but she's just as fucked as the rest of us in the cranium." He let out a bark of laughter, pressing his finger to his temple.

"That's...that's the point. She told me about what she did to you...what happened to all of you. It's just the same as what Miranda does to all of us in the village-"

The chains tightened with a crunch. Elena gasped, white trembling behind her eyes. Heisenberg's face had gone still and cold.

"You shut your fuckin' mouth before I throw you off this goddamn cliff," he snarled. "You don't know a thing about it. Whatever the little blackbird sang to you she's a fuckin' liar, just like Mother. Understand?"

Elena choked out a wheeze, but nodded.

"Thought so." The chains loosened. He didn't look at her again, or speak another word, all the long way down the mountain path.

Elena smelled the village before she saw it- mud and bonfires and the smell of cooking, familiar spices bringing tears to her eyes. People scuttled out of the way as Heisenberg threw open the gates from the Giant's Chalice and strode into the village itself, not sparing a glance to the townsfolk dropping to their knees in the snow around him. He'd lit a cigar, and the blue smoke billowed into the dark night sky, the snow descending once again in veils and gusts.

Donna, please be okay.

Through the familiar streets and byways, past yards of goats and children staring silent from behind fences, clutched to their mothers' legs. Elena knew where they were going, and stifled a sob. All of this had gone so wrong. By the time her father's house came into view, she'd begun to shake again, a full-body quiver she couldn't hold back. Heisenberg kicked open the house door and flung Elena through- she smacked the ground and rolled, coughing, coming to a halt face-up before the dining table.

Her father sat at one side, dressed in his best clothes. Andrei sat at the other, eyes wide and shining in the warm firelight. And at the table's head, wings spread, resplendent in black and gold, sat Mother Miranda. She smiled down at Elena on the ground, still trussed up like a midwinter goose.

Behind her, Heisenberg set his hammer against the ground with a clang and leaned on it, expression unreadable. The hearth flames flickered on the lenses of his dark glasses.

"Well done, my son," Miranda said, after a moment.

"Thank you, Mother," Heisenberg said. If Miranda detected any trace of mockery in his tone, she didn't show it. She spread her gilded hands, a giving saint glowing in the firelight.

"You've given me far more than I thought possible, child," Miranda said. "Showed me my control can be...shaken. Showed me there are far fewer believers in the fold than I assumed. Not only you, traitor, but my own daughter, too. Hiding her fears and weaknesses. Hiding her secrets, her abilities. All this time, locking her true capabilities away in that tomb of a house, and herself the corpse at its heart."

Elena's father threw a terrified glance from Elena to Miranda. Andrei began to pray, hands clasped together on the table, Elena's jawbone amulet clenched between them.

"She's...she's not your daughter," Elena managed. She coughed; blood slicked down her chin. She must have bitten her tongue when Heisenberg dumped her on the floor. "You stole her real parents. All of them...stole them from their lives...made them your...your devotees when they didn't want any of it..."

"Do you realize how mad you sound, Elena? Me, steal those who are already beholden to the Black God's protection? I give them the power they were born to hold. The strength they were made to wield! Who would deny that?"

"An unwilling child!"

"Enough." Her voice was ice, and Elena felt it, her own control slipping, Miranda's talons gripping the edges of her mind. She was so strong. Terror slid up her throat, bitter and acid. "We had a deal, Elena. And you broke it."

"Please, Mother Miranda," Elena's father broke out. "I'm begging you. Take me instead. Don't take her. She did this all for me, like you said. Right? She's just being a loyal daughter. And she is. She always was."

He looked down at her, eyes crinkling as he gave her a shaky smile. "Best I could have asked for."

"Hush, Pa," Elena managed. "You just be quiet. It's all right."

"A loyal daughter," Miranda echoed. "Dutiful and true. You're right, Leonardo. She is. So she will understand the weight of a promise, won't she? And a promise must be kept. Or broken."

Gold flashed in the firelight: claws.

Heisenberg bowed his head as Andrei cried out in horror.

Elena could only watch, paralyzed, silent, her mouth open as if she might call out for her father as Miranda's gilded talons closed around his head.

"Forget," she breathed.

There was a wet cracking, a snapping; her father gasped as blood burst from his mouth, spattering the table in a spray of dark red. Miranda's eyes glowed. Power rippled, bitter in the firelit air. Elena's father shuddered; his eyes rolled back as Miranda's talons dug into his forehead. With a curl of her lip, she released him.

He slumped to the tabletop, right in the blood. Splack. Elena's vision shocked white, red, black around the edges. Her father was so still. He stared into nothingness. He was breathing, but- his eyes, what was wrong with them, there was nothing in them.

"A body is a body," Miranda said, "and yet has use. But his mind had run its course. He won't remember you, child." She flexed her bloodied talons. "Never again."

Pa- Elena's voice caught in her throat. She struggled to her knees, but weight dropped onto her shoulder, holding her in place. Heisenberg's hand.

No, let me go- let me go to him, let me put him back together- Like Donna had tried with Violeta, but it could never be put back in once it was gone, could it? Lost, Donna whispered. Lost forever.

"Now," Miranda said. Her voice was a little unsteady, full of a weird, sharp thrill. Her eyes were bright behind the mask. "This unpleasantness could have all been avoided, Elena. What a shame. Heisenberg, where's Lady Beneviento?"

"Fuck if I know. Didn't see her skulking around the house."

"She'll be there. Hiding from me. She won't reveal herself without provocation. Take the traitor and lure her out."

"And her?" He gave Elena a little shake. She hardly felt it.

"Kill her in any way you see fit."

His grip tightened on her shoulder. He was quiet for a long time. Elena's father's blood dripped to the rug. He lay there like a corpse, his brow slightly furrowed, staring at her sightless.

Why couldn't she feel anything? It was like a great silent nothing where just moments before had been a storm.

Come on. Cry. Scream. But there was just emptiness. She wished she could pass out, never wake up. She wished all of this would just go away.

Heisenberg still hadn't spoken. Elena glanced up and found him staring down at her. She wondered, fleetingly, distantly, what his eyes looked like under the glasses. What was he thinking? She remembered what Donna had said about him. A scared child, stolen, cut open, betrayed. No one ever stopped being a scared child, not deep down inside.

"Heisenberg," Miranda snapped.

"Hm," he said at last. "Nah."

Miranda blinked.

"...What?" she said, her voice pure ice.

"She's too valuable to kill," Heisenberg said. "How long's she been up there in the house of horrors? Month and a half? All that time, her brain and system soaking up Donna's acid trip flower juice. Donna doesn't usually let go of her playthings while they're still breathing, but now? Here one is, ready to go! Look at her. She's marinated like a lamb chop. Give her to me, and I'll saw open her skull, get a good look at her internal workings. Fascinating, to see how she ticks when she's tripping out of her mind on hallucinations."

He grinned. "A hell of a weekend, at any rate."

Miranda said nothing, but Elena felt the surge of power, the bitter smell of mold gusting through the room. Darkness snaked across the walls: black, glistening tendrils, roots or veins. The fire extinguished with a hiss. Feathered shadows filled the room, glorious, ghastly, as Miranda rose from the table and unfurled her wings. Andrei pressed his face into his hands, rocking back and forth in his chair.

Heisenberg snapped rigid. He gasped, the sound scraping from him like a knife against stone. Lightning crackled round him, unearthly radiance, underlighting him ghastly from beneath, but Miranda had him. She had him without having to lift a finger.

"Take her," Miranda said. Her voice echoed through the bones of the house, through the depths of Elena's still, cold mind. "Kill her. Bring me Beneviento. Now."

And Heisenberg's hand slid to the back of Elena's head, fingers winding through her hair. He yanked her off her feet and marched her stiffly to the door, shoving her without ceremony back into the frigid night wind.

[blueskrugs]

In Between Being Young and Being Right | Mat Barzal

this is for  @yes-he-mccann and the @hockeynetwork fic exchange! I hope you like it!  

this was written on a stack of looseleaf over the course of about four hours and I used up like half of a brand new pen on it.

length: 4.1k words

the torture of small talk with someone you used to love

You met Mat Barzal the summer after his rookie year, fresh off the high of winning the Calder, all good looks and a quiet confidence. 

You fell in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan. 

It was a whirlwind summer romance, and you both knew it. It was one of those relationships that usually came with an expiration date, when the sun set earlier and the nights were colder. You and Mat didn’t care, though, because you fell so hard and fast for each other that you couldn’t imagine a life without the other one in it. Besides, you heard the whispers of all your friends and family, the way they said that you and Mat were made for each other.

It certainly seemed that way to you too, because you saw the love in Mat’s eyes when he looked at you, the way his face lit up when you laughed with him, and you knew that love was reflected in your own eyes, even when Mat pushed you off the dock and into the lake. 

The summer passed in a humid haze. You talked about the future as you laid in the grass under the stars, hands tangled together between you. About Mat’s career. About you graduating college in a couple of years. Moving to New York. Following Mat and his dream. 

You sat around bonfires with your friends, sitting on Mat’s lap and wearing one of his hoodies, watching the sparks fly into the dark sky and feeling Mat wrap his arms around your waist.

The end of summer was creeping ever nearer, but you and Mat were as inseparable as ever. Until you weren’t, until Mat went back to Long Island for training camp. 

You felt the 3000 miles between you as you talked on the phone each night. You could feel Mat pulling away as the distance stretched between you. You also knew there was nothing you could do about it. 

“I think we should break up,” he said one night just after the season started. The Islanders had won, and Mat had scored a goal, but he sounded tired, exhausted in a way that was more than just the hockey game. You choked back a sob, but Mat continued on. “I just don’t think this long-distance thing is working.”

It wasn’t working because Mat didn’t want it to. There was more to it than that, you knew, but you didn’t push as Mat hung up the phone. You stared at your phone long after the screen went dark. You were wearing an old Thunderbirds sweatshirt of Mat’s, and it still smelled like him, but instead of being comforting, it was suddenly cloying. You pulled the hood over your head to sleep, letting the familiar scent wash over you as the tears fell onto your pillowcase. 

Life went on. You learned to paste on a smile and laugh when someone told you that they’d thought you and Mat had been perfect together, that you would have been together forever. You’d thought that, too. Last summer seemed like a lifetime ago.

Summer rolled around again. You hadn’t spoken to Mat since that last phone call; you wondered vaguely what you would say to him if you saw him again. You went back to the Lake with your family and hoped you never had to find out. 

You bumped into Tyson Jost, literally, one day in July in the middle of the lake. He was in a kayak, and he was definitely intentionally trying to knock you off your paddleboard. You splashed him with your paddle as he laughed. 

It was nice for a moment, familiar as Tyson pouted at you and tried to fix his curls, like it was last summer again. Except nothing was the same, and Tyson must have realized it at the same time as you, because his smile fell. 

“Hey,” he offered quietly.

“Hey, Tys,” you said back, sitting down on your paddleboard, letting one leg hang over the side and into the water. 

It  was quiet for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say next, just the sound of cicadas filling the air. 

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Tyson said.

You shrugged, tilting your face up towards the sun so you didn’t have to meet Tyson’s eyes. Tyson had always been nice to you, and you two got along, but he’d always been Mat’s friend, not yours.

Tyson nudged your leg with his paddle. “Miss playing Spikeball with you on my team,” he added. “We never lost when we were together.”

You laughed, looking back at Tyson, “That might have been because we’re ‘too competitive.’”

Tyson was grinning at you. “Nah,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You laughed harder; you weren’t sure when the last time you had laughed this hard was. “Wanna join me out here for a while?” you asked when you caught your breath. 

“I’ll race ya,” Tyson said, already turning his kayak around for a head start. 

You beat him anyway. 

You didn’t see Mat at all that summer; you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed. His sister texted you once, but you didn’t respond. Mat still followed you on Instagram, too, would like your posts within a couple of hours, but he never interacted further than that. Your thumb hovered over the “remove follower” button on more than one late night, but it never actually got pressed. You still wore one of his hoodies to sleep sometimes. It no longer smelled like him, and it left you lonelier than ever come morning. 

When your work offered to send you to an important conference in New York City as a representative for the Vancouver area, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You didn’t think about the fact that it was the middle of November, that hockey season in full swing, until a week later. You were in the middle of packing when your phone lit up with a notification that told you Mat had just scored a goal.

You looked at the Islanders hoodie that you had absently folded and placed at the top of your suitcase. 

New York was a big city, right? What were the odds that you would see Mat?

The odds were really fucking high, it turned out. 

You’d barely been in New York two days when you crossed paths with Mat. You were standing in line in a coffee shop, because your relationship was still a walking cliche, even after not seeing Mat for over a year. You heard his laugh before you saw his face.

You could never forget that laugh. You still heard it in your sleep, in the dark when you couldn’t chase the memories away. Except in your dreams it was never followed by a giggle that wasn’t yours. Like it was now. 

You resisted the urge to turn around, instead kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, but you weren’t really reading any of the words on it. 

A barista called out Mat’s name, and then he was brushing past you, murmuring an apology as he went past. He didn’t look at you, not really, more focused on getting his coffee. Not until he turned around, coffee now in hand, and you thought he was going to drop the cup for a moment as he did a literal double take. Frozen in the middle of a coffee shop in Manhattan. You would’ve laughed, but instead you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Y/N,” Mat breathed. You almost didn’t hear him over the din of the conversations around you. 

His hair had grown out some, you couldn’t help but notice.

Someone else bumped into you, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Mat was still staring at you, but at least he’d closed his mouth. The barista called your name, and you moved to grab your cup from the counter. Mat grabbed your arm as you turned to leave but jerked back quickly, letting go like he’d been burned. 

You didn’t have enough caffeine in your system for this, and you didn’t have time for it, either. You were going to be late at this rate, but you paused anyway, looked into Mat’s eyes. You were both saved from speaking by a girl coming over and draping herself over Mat.

“Mat, baby, what’s taking you so long?” Mat shrugged the girl off of him, looking annoyed. She turned her attention to you then. “I’m Clara, Mat’s girlfriend,” she told you, her smile turning a little mean, as if she knew exactly who you were. She didn’t offer a hand, and instead, wound her arms around Mat’s bicep. 

She was tall, model-thin and model-pretty. Blonde in a way that was too perfect to be real. You were suddenly acutely aware of your own chipped nail polish. 

Mat didn’t say anything, but he refused to look at you.

You gripped your coffee cup tighter, turned, and fled, the bell over the door tinkling cheerily. It mocked you as you felt your heart break all over again. 

Mat had moved on; you hadn’t. And that was fine. Or, at least, that’s what you told yourself as you sipped your coffee and walked through the crowded streets of New York. Your phone vibrated with a text in your hand, but you turned it off without looking at it and threw it in your purse.

When you turned your phone back on later that night, back in the safety of your hotel room, the text at the top of your screen was from Mat. 

“I’m sorry,” it read.

Then, several hours later, another: “she’s not you.”

You scoffed. You felt a little bit like throwing your phone at the wall. 

Another text from Mat came through. You wondered if he’d been checking his phone all day, waiting for the little “read” to appear under all of his messages to you. “It’s just easier with her.”

You blocked Mat’s phone number through your tears.

That night as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but wonder if Clara was the reason Mat had broken up with you. You wondered if she laughed at all of his stupid jokes like you always had. You wondered if she was friends with Tito, or if she had come to B.C. last summer and taken your place by Mat’s side. You wondered what would have happened if you had followed Mat to New York last year.

You would’ve followed Mat anywhere in the world once. Now, you were in the same city again, but you felt like you were worlds away from each other. You hoped whoever was on the other side of your wall couldn’t hear you crying. 

The Islanders came to Vancouver in February. You didn’t bother watching the game.

Soon, it was July again. You were going to a Canada Day party at a friend of a friend’s, and you were excited for it, for the chance to have fun on the lake for the day, just drinking and tanning. 

You didn’t know what impelled you to put on your cutest swimsuit, but you did it anyway. 

You’d barely walked into the backyard when someone barreled into you from behind, wrapping their arms around your waist and spinning you around. It took you a second, but you recognized the cheering voice as none other than Tyson Jost.

“Tyson, let go of me, holy shit,” you gasped. 

He did, but only long enough to turn you to face him and place his hands on your shoulders. He was out of breath and wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he was smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said excitedly. 

You had forgotten that your mutual friends at the lake overlapped. And if Tyson were there, Mat probably was, too. In spite of yourself, you peered over Tyson’s shoulder. You didn’t know if you were looking for Mat so you could avoid him or because you wanted to talk to him. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered when you finally spotted him, down near the lakefront. 

Tyson raised an eyebrow at you, but pointed you in the direction of the alcohol anyway, before you were being dragged across the lawn to meet his sister. 

Kacey was in a conversation with Mat, because of course she was, and you stood by and awkwardly sipped your drink as Tyson jumped straight into the conversation. They seemed to be arguing over whether or not a hot dog could be considered a sandwich. 

Kacey was sweet, and she seemed fun, especially when you teamed up to roast Tyson, but soon she was being called by someone else, and Tyson followed, leaving you with Mat. You glared at his back as he went. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Mat said quietly, dragging his bare toes through the grass. 

“Hey,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. “You had a great season,” you offered. It was true; Mat had put up great numbers, and the team had made it into the second round of the playoffs again. 

Mat looked up at you, startled, like he hadn’t expected you to still keep up with him and his team. He flushed a little and ran his hand through his hair. It was shorter again, you noticed. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

It was awkward, and you hated it. You could hear all the voices of your friends and family in your head, telling you that you and Mat were meant for each other, would be together forever, but right now it was like talking to a stranger. 

“How’re your parents?” Mat asked.

You forced a smile. “They just got a puppy.” You had pictures of him on your phone, but you had left it inside the house. “Where’s Clara?” you asked, willing your voice to stay even.

Mat flushed again and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “We, uh, broke up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Before Christmas,” he added.

Not long after you’d been in New York, you thought, but you knew better than to hope that you’d had anything to do with it. 

“Y/N! Barzy!” Josty yelled then, effectively ending your conversation. “Come play Spikeball!” You both groaned good-naturedly. 

Your hand brushed Mat’s as you walked towards Josty, but he flinched and took a step away from you.

You glared at Tyson again as you moved to stand next to him. “I hate you,” you hissed. 

Tyson feigned innocence and tossed the ball to you. 

You and Tyson beat Kacey and Mat, because it had been a while, but you weren’t undefeated as a team for nothing. You let Tyson pull you into a hug and tried to ignore how you felt Mat’s eyes on your back. 

Mat and Kacey moved on from the game, but Tyson was already busy trying to pull in your next opponent. You ended up staying on Spikeball for a while, long enough that you were sweaty and in desperate need of water as the sun beat down from overhead.

You left Tyson and wandered off in search of the cooler filled with water bottles. Mat was already there, and you nearly turned around. He was about to twist the top off of a water bottle as you approached, but he paused. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “I think I took the last cold one, and I think you need it more than me.” 

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him, and instead just muttered a grateful, “Thanks,” as you opened the bottle and gulped some down.

“You and Tys were tearing it up out there,” Mat commented. You narrowed your eyes at him as you screwed the cap back on your water bottle. There was a note to his voice that sounded a lot like jealousy. 

“Yeah, Tyson’s great,” you said casually. “I’ve missed hanging out with him.” 

Mat’s jaw tightened. “I think I’m gonna go get a beer,” he said, brushing past you before you could respond. You blinked bemusedly after him. 

You didn’t see Mat again for a while. It seemed like you were both trying to avoid each other now and succeeding. 

You were laying out in the sun on one of those giant lake rafts, catching up with a friend from high school when a boy took a running leap off the dock and hit the water with a spectacular splash. Mat surfaced near you a moment later, flipping his wet hair out of his eyes. His chain was backwards, and your fingers itched to reach out and fix it. 

“6.5,” you deadpanned instead. “Good form, too much splash.”

Mat latched onto the raft you were on and rested his chin on his folded forearms. He grinned at you, and it hurt a little bit to have that blinding smile directed at you again. 

“You wound me,” Mat laughed. 

“You got me wet!”

“You’re in a lake, babe, you’re gonna get wet,” Mat said. To prove his point, he grabbed your ankle and dragged you off the raft and into the water. 

“Mathew!” you shrieked, only just managing to close your mouth before you went underwater. 

Mat was laughing when you came back up for air. You pouted at him, but you couldn’t help but grin as well when you heard the rest of your friends laughing too.

“Just like old times, eh?” Mat said, quietly so only you could hear. He was still smiling, but his eyes were sad. One of his hands had come up to rest on your waist as you both treaded water. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders and dunked him.

It was after dinner when you crossed paths again, though it wasn’t by coincidence this time. The sun was setting over the lake, and you were settling on a blanket to watch the fireworks with your friend. Mat came over, stood awkwardly in front of you for a moment before he spoke, his words rushed.

“Y/N, can we, uh, can we talk?”

You shared a look with your friend. Mat was picking at the label on his beer nervously. 

“Sure,” you sighed.

Mat held out a hand to help you up, but you ignored it and clambered to your feet on your own. He still waited as you brushed yourself off before he started walking, and you fell into step beside him. Mat led you away from the party, back up to the mostly deserted deck overlooking everyone.

Mat looked out over the railing, still fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. You rested your elbows on the rail and matched Mat’s pose.

“You blocked me, didn’t you?” Mat blurted. You bit your lip but didn’t respond. “Because I tried calling you after I saw you in New York, and I texted you when we were in Vancouver, but I could never get through.” Mat’s voice sounded accusatory now, and you felt a rush of anger surge through you. 

“What else was I supposed to do, Mat?” you asked. “You moved on, and then you have the fucking nerve to text me and tell me you dumped me because some other girl was ‘easier?’” Your voice rose, but no one turned to look at you. You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking, and you gripped the railing tightly to steady them.

“What were you even doing in New York, anyway?” Mat spits back, definitely angry now, too. “What were you planning on doing?”

Oh. Mat thought you’d come to New York to beg him to take you back. You laughed, but it came out bitter. “I was there for work, Mathew. The world doesn’t revolve around you, asshole.” Except yours did once, and still did a little, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You pushed off the railing and spun around, wanting to be as far away from Mat and this conversation as possible. But Mat grabbed your arm tightly, kept you in place. His fingers wrapped around your bicep entirely. His hand was warm against your bare skin, and you shivered in spite of yourself. 

“Wait,” Mat said. His voice had softened. “This is so not how this was supposed to go.” He still hadn’t let go of your arm, and you made yourself meet his eyes. In the twilight, they were dark grey, closer to green, that wonderful shade you used to wake up to in the mornings when he had snuck into your bed. The wind blew, and you shivered again. “Here,” Mat said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 

It smelled like him, and you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe it in. 

“How was this supposed to go then, Mat?” you whispered.

Mat sighed. “I got scared,” he said. His eyes were on the stars as they appeared overhead. “Which is a terrible fucking excuse, I know. But we were 20 years old, and I’d never been in love before, and then suddenly everyone is saying we’re soulmates or whatever. And we’re talking about the future, and I just got scared. Scared I’d fuck up and lose you, which I did anyway. Scared of never knowing anything else, but it turned out I didn’t want anything else. 

“I went back to New York without you, and I missed you. I broke up with you, and I missed you even more. But I didn’t know what to do to get you back. I can’t tell you the number of times Beau called me an idiot.” Mat broke off, shaking his head. “And then I met Clara, and, yeah, it was easier. But only because no one, not even us, saw a future there. I didn’t have to listen to everyone saying that we’d be together forever, but that’s all I wanted to hear.”

You had been quiet while Mat rambled, playing with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He broke off then, took a swig of his beer, then made a face because it had gotten warm. You couldn’t help but laugh, and Mat looked surprised, but pleased.

“I missed talking to you on the phone every night,” you started. “Even when you called, you weren’t there, not really. I could tell something was off, but we were on opposite sides of the continent. I wanted to believe that you were just busy or something, but there was nothing I could do about it.” Mat’s face twisted, into something sad and pained, and he made a move like he wanted to take your hand. He didn’t, though, just rested it next to your arm on the railing. “I still sleep in one of your hoodies sometimes,” you admitted. 

It was Mat’s turn to laugh. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, and you didn’t resist.

“God, I was so stupid,” Mat groaned. You hummed in response, and Mat pinched your arm. “Do you think we could ever try this again?” he asked.

You looked up at Mat. Everything about his face was familiar– his jawline, his nose, his eyes– but older now. A lot had happened since the last time you felt like you really knew Mat, for both of you. Neither of you were the same person you’d been before.

“I hated all that fucking small talk earlier, by the way,” he added. “I can’t believe I did that to myself. Asking the only girl I’ve ever loved about her parents as if we barely know each other.”

You leaned into Mat more. “What about you being jealous of Josty,” you teased. “Can we talk about that?” Mat’s arm tightened around your shoulders, but when you looked up at him he was smiling. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Mat said. You giggled, and Mat’s face relaxed.

“Did you mean it?” you whispered.

“What? That you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved?” Mat pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I have loved you since I was 20 years old, Y/N, and I think I’ll still love you in another 20, and another 20 after that.” He brushed a kiss against both of your cheekbones. 

His face was very close to yours, and even in the dark you could see that his eyes were suddenly full of hope. He brushed his nose against yours. You surged forward to press your lips against his. Mat smiled into the kiss as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. He tasted like beer and sunscreen, like summer and coming home. 

The first firework went off above you; Mat’s hands tightened on your hips. Below you, people cheered. Mat pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” you murmured, and then Mat was kissing you again, his hands warm against your lower back where they had slid under your shirt.

And just like that, you felt yourself falling in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan all over again. 

[cornacopicimagines]

best of friends pt.2 │t.h

pairing: singledad!mob!tom holland x singlemom!reader

words: 5.7k

warnings:  SMUT, swearing, major violence, depictions of violence and blood, rough sex, oral (male receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, dom!tom & creampie.

summary: Everything was perfect. The two-and-a-half years since they first met have been nothing but love and respect. Until, y/n comes home one night, her husband gone for the time being. It all somehow crumbles in front of her, she can't help but question it. Though this thought is nothing to what he feels in that very moment. It's pure fear and terror, a pent-up storm of worry. Their comfort zone is nothing longer alive, it was buried and left to rot. 

a/n: so. it must be said, i went through three different plots before i settled on this one. that is why this goddamn fic has taken me so long to write. This is probably the last mob!tom holland fic i'll write because bitch has a lot of other AUs that i would honestly prefer to write. enjoy! 

part 1

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n waited for a moment. It wasn't long, but it was enough she had to check the clock on her wrist. 1:37am. Although she heard the snoring of Lottie, sound asleep in her bed, y/n knew otherwise. She knew that as soon as her feet hit the carpeted floor of her daughter's bedroom, the girl would shoot straight up and whine for y/n to come back. She loved Lottie with all of her heart, like all of her kids, however sometimes the precious little angels got on her nerves. Just last Tuesday is a prime example as y/n desperately fiddling with the buttons of Tom's shirt, wanting nothing more to take every inch of him while his whole operation continued below them. Just as she had popped the last latch, James called out for his father from across the house, most likely because one of the boys got hurt again from the play fighting they insisted they do. Sadly, y/n redid her husband's buttons and let him leave her widely aroused and dissatisfied.

As she watched Lottie take in her small breaths, y/n recounted the moments. She still remembers her wedding, clear as day. It was in their garden, with the trees dressed in beautiful pink silk and the flowers somehow in full bloom. No one was around, it's was secluded and perfect. It was just them, Theo and James stood side by side, their matching suits made her heart swell. Their perfectly rosy cheeks lit up as they saw y/n make her way down the grassy aisle. Though she never saw it, Tom admits that it was Theo who smacked him on the arm to turn around. To come face to face with his bride, a blushing bride that was 7 months pregnant. It was a rush of a events that y/n never quite saw occuring so early into her life. Yet, the day she told Tom they were going to be parents, he asked her to marry him. Of course, y/n organised a typical wedding after she had given birth but at that very second, every bad thing she had to live through suddenly became a single speck of sand on a vast beach. A prologue to her wonderful life ahead of her.

The door swung open slightly, though the light from outside Lottie's room was off, y/n could instantly tell who was stepping over countless dolls and plastic cars. Tom knelt at the side of his daughter's bed, just below his wife as she softly stroked Lottie's forehead. "You need some rest Sweetness," he told her quietly, watching over Lottie's snoring figure.

"I can't" y/n stifled through a yawn. Though she greatly needed to run to her bed and pass out, she refused to leave Lottie unless she knew her daughter was absolutely deep in sleep. Tom sighed, letting his forehead hit the soft linen of the bed cover.

"You need sleep, I can't look after the brady bunch by myself," Tom joked. His hand came to draw soft circles on y/n's thigh. It was nothing if not soothing to her. He could directly make out her face in the darkness, but Tom knew his wife was smiling, a low grin painted upon her fatigued face. "I'll take this shift."

y/n reached out for his face, finding it in seconds. Her thumb now matched the pattern on his cheek that Tom was drawing on her thigh. "We made a deal," it was his speciality, but he never wanted it to get this bad. "You would help Theo with his Valentine's Day gift if I could get this one to sleep."

y/n possessed many traits that Tom adored. She was empathetic, a woman of incredible wit and intelligence, had the stamina of a bull but her stubbornness seemed to be her crowing glory. Tom knew his wife as well as he knew how to count to ten. She wasn't leaving until absolute confirmation was handed to her. "Sweetness, I would prefer if you came to bed with me," he tried, the approach was simple and usually it worked.

"As much as I would adore that, I'm not going anywhere with you mister," y/n teased. Her attention focusing back on Lottie. Perhaps it was the way her eyelids seemed to betray her, closing every few seconds or if it was simply the way the mattress felt beneath her legs. Eventually though, the mixture of all of those and her husband's head laying flat on her thighs, she began to slowly creep off the bed. The pads of her feet pressed against the floor in such delicacy, y/n doubted that she even touching it. She reached out for Tom, grasping slightly at his bare bicep as she lifted herself up.

Tom caught on to his wife's movements and made sure that the path was completely clear of any of Lottie's toys. Calmly, the pair of them tip-toed out. Every move halted by their daughter's movements but eventually, the door closed and y/n was free from the little montress's grip. y/n wishes that she was more awake, more alert because even in her half sleep dazed she could make out the tight white singlet that clung to Tom's body. She reached out for him, it was the weakest of touchs. Yet, her hand fell on his shoulder and running up to the base of his neck. It wasn't sexual in any form, instead they stood in the dim light in complete silence. Watching each other feel the affected of forced insomnia.

"How am I going to get up this morning," y/n giggled as she accepted the sudden embrace from Tom. Her head finding it's way into the same shoulder she tenderly caressed seconds ago. Tom's fingers coiled around her forearm gently as the began to quietly walk to their bedroom. "Hopefully Meg will be around at that time," she sighed as the soft breeze of their room hit her face. Meg was their nanny, a woman who has been employed by Tom since James was a baby. She was a sweet old thing, a cliché of the lovely old lady in fairtales.

"She will, sadly I won't," Tom told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they both hid themselves under the sating covers. y/n wanted to continue the conversation, she knew that Tom wouldn't be back at home until tomorrow night and for the first time, she would be in charge of everyone but she couldn't. As soon as her head hit the lavender scented pillow, she was out like a light. Tom just chuckled in return, pulling her into a soft embrace.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n wasn't an idiotic woman. She has been with Tom for two and a half years; married to him for two years, she immediately knew when something didn't feel right. As her fingers gripped the steering wheel, she peered in her rear-view mirror. It was something Tom's bodyguards drive around in. The vehicle was large and bulky, looking like it a take down a building with minimum amount of speed. It was painted in the midnight black, even the widows seemed to be darkened. Like before, y/n recognised the model of the car to be a sister of the cars she would frequently have to ride in if she accompanied Tom anywhere, he thought posed even the slightest amount of danger. She knew that with every corner she took, the car would mimic her turns. y/n caught onto it in seconds, watching through Lottie's car seat and Theo's mop of hair. It didn't help that when she called Tom's head guard, he told her that he had followed her orders. To let her pick up her children to avoid the never-ending shock from the ensemble of 6'5 muscular men accompanying her wherever she went.

"Do you want us to do anything about it ma'am?" he asked through the car's speaker. y/n pondered for a few seconds. While her gut was screaming at her that this was something completely out of the ordinary, if there was any ordinary being married to a Mob boss. Her mind knew that if she did say something to him now it was no doubt find its way to Tom. He would instantly assume the worst and cancel any important deal in front of him to race home. The guard's voice pulled her out of her concentration.

"Get the house under lockdown," she ordered, for the first time she felt truly in control but as all things it was slipping. "Do not tell my husband."

"Ma'am, it is imperative that Mr. Holland know of this," the guard protested. y/n had been going through quite a rough day. She was tired, overworked and constantly around wailing children. She refused to be around another. Her jaw clenched as she pulled into their street, the car still hot on her tail.

"I don't care, Tom will not know of this," y/n snapped, peering up for a final time but to her initial surprise that car had vanished. She had no clue where the fucker had gone. "It's probably nothing," she spoke quietly. The sentence was more reassurance for herself than from him, yet he had heard her, accepted her terms and hung up.

As she pulled the car into the impressively large garage, she lets her bare forehead hit top of the steering wheel. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Mum," Theo called out from the backseat, "are you alright?" The boy's question was laced with genuine concern. It released whatever anxiety riddled grip had got a hold of y/n. She gazed up, smiling as she let all her negative thoughts leave her before turning to her three children.

"I am just really tired honey," she replied as she exited the car and proceeded to undo Lottie's buckled. "Not to worry, I think it is Boy's Movie Night tonight!" Both boys cheered in unison. The afternoon went on as usual. Theo and James spent the entire time with their faces glued to the screen in front of them. Squealing every time the supposed bad guys landed flat on his ass, jumping at every occasion that they could. Even if they lived in a mansion, y/n was positive that everyone in this house could hear their playful laughter.

y/n sat next to Lottie; her curly brunette hair clipped back into two adorable pigtails. Lottie was a carbon copy of Tom. Even next to her half-brother James, Lottie seemed to possess ever physical trait of y/n's husband. The smooth somehow flawless skin, the bouncy chestnut curls that y/n just knows will be her daughter's statement piece when she grows up and finally the pair of chocolate eyes that gets her father weak every time, she babbles up at him. She wondered how all of her children would look like when they get old enough to make their own decisions. While James doesn't have Tom's colouring like Lottie does, he has this glimmer of mischievousness in his eyes. Something y/n has loves about her boys, they all share this odd ball of high-energy. Theo looks exactly like y/n, her colouring and her features. Theo's look alikeness to his mother is something y/n feels is divine intervention. To show that, this is her son. Her baby boy and no one else's unless she says so.

"Ma'am" Meg's heavy Irish accent perks up. She's standing at the windows, peering through the curtains slightly. "I think you should see this," she advises before stepping away from the scene and running to grab Lottie from her highchair. y/n hesitantly waltzes over, she presents a cool face to her children, but she can feel her stomach crawling into her throat as she gets closer. y/n pulls the fabric back slightly, she prays that is it now in the early hours of the night and the light is off. It's the same car, it's now parked across the road from her house. Just outside of their camera’s visibility, the vehicle is camouflaged almost to perfection, she can still spot it. Its headlights are off and the car makes not a single sound. At first, y/n faithfully believes she is now seeing things, that her brain is so unfathomably tired it has resorted to petty tricks. That is until one of the car doors open quickly. She waits for a moment as does this figure in the car before a pair of fit hit the ground. Though it makes no clamour, it startles her. y/n doesn’t wait to meet his eyes as his head ducks under the car roof to fully meet the air. She turns around to meet Meg’s eyes, the women wear matching looks.

“Take the children into the spare room, go now,” y/n speaks softly as not to alarm her sons. Meg nods quickly, instantly holstering Lottie on her hips and shooing the boys away from the glowing TV.

She pauses until she hears the door close. It’s deafening. She turns her attention back to the scene, it’s worse than before. There’s at least 7 of them huddled around this car, pulling unknown bags from the seats. As the mystery bags hit the ground, the unknown men begin opening it. It’s filled to the brim with metal, the holsters of guns peeking through with the aid of the dim light of the streetlight. y/n refused to observe anymore, silently she alerts the guards in the house. She doesn’t even process the next second, it’s like nothing is working anymore. y/n knows what the sound is, she knows what is happening, she knows that in a matter of seconds the men have begun firing at her front landing. Killing anyone standing outside, she can feel the bullets entering their bodies.

It’s with that, y/n goes from a fast pace to sprinting. She rushes down the long halls to meet with her children. It’s feels like an eternity that she is opening doors, calling out for any of them. All the while, gunshots ring out like a bell, constant and terrible. Her phone vibrates,it send her nerves over the edge. y/n stops for a second to stare at it, Tom’s name lights up the screen. Instead of answering, her fingers lose all their function. Her phone drops from her hand and hits the floor. She wants to pick it up but her feet work against her and begin to simply pace herself away from her phone as it continues to hum against the tiles.

Finally, she reaches the room. Meg holds Lottie close to her chest, rocking the toddler back and forth as Lottie cries into Meg’s shirt. Theo and James are standing in the middle of the room. Both look like they are on their verge of tears and to be completely truthfully, so was she. Closing the door, y/n immediately wraps her arms around her sons. She feels the wet tears staining her shoulders. She feels their chests rise and fall drop as best they can.

“You boys are so brave,” she sooths, her palms rubbing circles atop their heads. Slowly, she peers up. While the gunfire continues to ring out, y/n stares at the people in the room with her. Not a single bulb is turned on, the area is pitch black, but she can still see how this if affecting the boys. How Meg clutches onto Lottie’s wailing body. “It’ll be over soon.”

“You promise,” James chokes out, he wipes his face of her blouse. y/n pressed a tender kiss to his hair. She lets a single tear escape her eyes.

“I swear handsome,” y/n tells him, but she’s not convinced by the sound of her own voice. The boys pull away from her, one of her hands reaches for their salty cheeks. “Everything will be alright, Mumma swears.”

She doesn’t want to; she wants to scream. She wants to burn the entire house to the ground. She wants to leave with her children and never come back. y/n has never felt this in her entire life. This is not only pure terror for the lives of her children but it’s uncontrollable rage. She’s being held together by a tearing material of a rubber band. Her limbs are coiled, feeling as though she has rusted in the rain. Her mind doesn’t stop, it runs as if it has never felt this wrathful freedom in its life. A million different thoughts threaten to take power, as if they should decide her next move. She doesn’t let them of course, y/n’s had practice at this, and she will not crack now.

“Meg, give me Charlotte now,” y/n’s voice is hoarse and breaking with ever vowel that drops from her lips. The old lady rushes over to y/n and hands her Lottie. The toddler instinctively wraps her arms around y/n, refusing to let go. Another 20 minutes go by, it's torture. The air seems to wash around y/n as she clings onto her children for dear life. Quietly, she pans over to Meg. The old woman looks as if she has turned from the humble baker's wife down the street to death herself. Their eyes lock, passing silent messages to each other.

I'm sorry, y/n pleads. She thinks if she spoke it aloud, it would travel barely above a whisper.

It's okay, sweetheart, Meg responded. Though the woman only truly meant the first part, y/n wanted to believe that she would have used the nickname to calm her nerves. Somehow it did.

The moment lasted for only seconds. A fleeting feeling of safety was ruined by the doorknob rattling furiously. At the speed of sound, y/n had handed Lottie over to Meg and told her to hide in the bathroom with the children. y/n heard everything, the door lock behind Meg and the muffled yelling behind the door in front of y/n. She scrambled to her feet, driving her to the wide bedside table. She threw open the doors until she landed on the one thing she never believes she's use. A small handgun. y/n didn't quite have time to question her morals at this very second in time. y/n wrapped her fingers around the handle just as the door swung open. Tears spilled as she pointed the gun aimlessly.

"Thank god," his familiar voice rang out. y/n sunk to her knees, the gun falling right from her fingertips. Tom rushed to her side; he didn't know what to say to her. He knew exactly what she was feeling, he knew whatever attempt he made at explaining the horrid situation would break his poor wife even further.

y/n studied his features in the dim light of the room as he got closer to her. She had never seen him in such a state. His hair flopping all over his face, hiding whatever panic was clearly evident over his features. More specifically, y/n watched as it became clearer. A large splatter of blood across his right cheek. She fell right into his arms, finally allowing herself to stain his shirt with her burst of weeps.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n's body was on fire. The fire was nothing but pure pain. As if bugs were nesting right under skin, desperate for a gasp of air. Even the clock ticked loudly, ever noise of the hand pressed her brain against her skull. Every joint rigid in its own specific way, damaged and tight.

"Sweetness, talk to me," Tom soothed, using the towel to clean the final fragments of blood off his cheek. Her eyes squinted at him, waiting for him to do anything other than be his normal gentle self. y/n slid herself off the foot of their bed and walked to the closed door. Flashing images of the other room crossing her mind.

"I need to check on the kids," she huffed. While y/n knew Meg was laying wide away on the floor of Theo's room as all three children slept contently, she wanted to be away from him at a moment like this. She needed to not see his face. Alas, Tom's hand gripped her wrist tightly. The touch sizzled her skin, the tension elevated for a split second.

y/n whipped around to face him; Tom felt his patience slipping from him. "y/n, be an adult," he hissed.

Tom knew he shouldn't be talking to her like this, but he was at his wit's end. A candle burning to the final wax. He mentally fucked himself over when he got that stupid fucking call. Sir, your wife has informed us of an unidentified vehicle following her, it engraved itself into his mind. Tom remembers sitting at the desk, wondering if she was witnessing the same group, he had fucked over a few months ago. Deciding it could wait, Tom told them to keep his updated throughout the night. As if whatever god was up there decided to play a tortuous comedy routine with Tom, it did begin to progress. First, the car pulling up hours before his arrival. Then the major security breach and finally as they began shooting at his house, ready to slaughter anyone they found inside. Especially his family.

She watched his intently. Waiting for a further response and yet, nothing. Her anger was bubbling over. "I am an adult," she seethed at him, her fingers unwrapping themselves from the doorknob. "I make sure that my children are safe, I make it my life's mission to ensure that I am not the direct cause of those certain dangers I wish to keep them so far away from!"

She had ripped her hand from his grasp, this wasn't something she was backing away from. It was something she could fight and to which she intended to do until the very end.

The little monologue broke Tom's heart. How could she believe that he would do such a horrific thing? How could she blame him for the events that unfolded tonight? He wondered if she truly knew this was never his intention. That he never wanted his family to come under direct attack all because he made one dangerous decision.

“You don’t talk to me like that y/n,” He grumbled. The air seemed to thicken with every word, cause more distance between the spouses. It was never like this they fought like a normal couple but never with this much venom. “I don’t deserve such criticism, especially from you.”

“Why?” she pondered, she moved closer to him. Inching closer with every second. “Is it because you question my authority? Or maybe is it because I am some silly little schoolteacher who got trouble with the wrong kind of people," she moved closer with every word of the sentence, pushing her dangerously closer. It’s a risk she must take if she wants to feel any sort of release.

“Stop being so theatrical y/n, you endured something horrible, but that is what you signed up for when you married me,” the room climbed in temperature. Tom had half a mind to strip himself just to get closer to peace, but with y/n so close to his chest, he preferred to work on her. Tom can’t pinpoint what made his mind switch in directions. Maybe it was the ever-growing heat, or perhaps it was the indescribable feeling of almost losing your wife and mother of your children. Either way, Tom thoughts were growing darker. The need to bruise y/n’s skin seemed to be the only thing he could really think about. “You wanted this,” he grunted, closing in on her. “Sweetness, you agreed to this lifestyle as soon as you sunk your sweet cunt onto me.”

The vulgarity of his words caught her off guard. Her breath stopped halfway when her back almost slammed into the wall. She wasn’t giving in so easily, even if the heat from her body had swiftly travelled to the valley between her thighs. y/n turned her head away from him in any desperation to not look at him. Unfortunately, Tom caught her actions as if he knew her every move. His fingers pressed against her chin to bring her eyes back to him. Tom was worried for an instant that she would truly be too furious with him to play into his game. Luckily, her eyes betrayed her. The big doe eyes of her stared up at him, pleaded to be fucked like an animal. Slammed into until all of her rage had slipped from her conscious.

“Screw yourself Tom,” she coughed out. She was playing along, y/n knew exactly where this was heading. A tender kiss was placed upon her lips, while the action itself was soft, nothing about the kiss genuinely was. It was the ultimate puzzle piece for him.

"You want to speak to me like a bitch," Tom chuckled, "you'll get fucked like a bitch." He kicked the back of her knees harshly, causing her to meet with the floor. "On your knees and hands behind your back." She wanted to protest, she wanted to act out the little brat but like most things, her arms instinctively pulled themselves behind her. "Now, I sincerely hope I don't have to punish you further sweetness," Tom soothed as he swiftly undid the buckle of his jeans, discarding the items of clothing across the room. His throbbing cock hit the base of his stomach with a soft slap. y/n bit her lip in instinct, it had been a while, and did she wholly miss this glorious scene in front of her.

y/n leaned forward and dragged her tongue from the base of him until her lips met with the beads of pre-cum drenching him. Slowly but surely, she wrapped her lips around him. Letting him enjoy the wet cavern of her mouth for a short time. He threw his head back in unison with a beautifully quiet moan. Her eyes never left him, as she bobbed her head gradually. If she was on her knees unable to reach out and touch him, she would at least make it fun for her. y/n only quickened her pace if their line of focus connected. As soon as Tom stared directly into her eyes, she would start her movements but if he turned away to enjoy the moment, everything would stop. It went like this before Tom had quite enough of it all. Without uttering a single word, Tom wrangle his hands into her soft hair and thrusted right up into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat roughly. She gagged loudly, making an awful sound as she attempted to regain her position. He pulled away from her, only to slam right back into her mouth. Unlike her plan beforehand, as he face fucked her, his pace begins to speed up.

y/n was now struggling to hold back her ragged gags as small tears slid out of her eyes. "Pretty girl, all worked out from my cock in your mouth huh?" Tom teased as he relished in the sounds of her cacophony of broken breaths. Just as quickly as he began, he pulled away from her complete. He dropped out of her mouth with a small pop and a trail of saliva that landed on the tops of her breasts. "Get up," to which she happily obliged. As soon as y/n had regained her footing, Tom's hands had completely destroyed her pants. The loose skirt was now in two pieces at her feet, along with her favourite pair of panties. Unfortunately, she didn't even get a second to scold him before he spun her around and slammed her chest against the wall. The pain excited her, it coursed through her torso and down into her legs, causing them to spasm slightly.

Tom looked at her, in the soft moonlight she was glowing. Ass facing him, tits pressed up against the wall. Complete ready for him. Tom gave her a small kiss on her shoulder, this time it truly was meant to be tender but in typical Tom fashion. As soon as his lips left her skin, Tom plunged right up into her. His hand covering her surprised squeal. God did he miss this. Filling her tight pussy right up to the brim. Even after everything they had been through, she still fit him like a glove. Hugged him so perfectly, Tom was worried he was shot his load right into her at this very moment. Sadly, he pushed the thought away and began rocking into her; his hand still covered over her mouth.

y/n could feel every inch of his like this. She could feel just how hard he was ramming into her cunt. Her nails gripped onto the wall in front of her as she whimpered into the palm of his hand. With every snap of his hips, her worries seemed to really melt away. All the tension built up in her body being oiled as he parted her legs to reach a nook in her that she thought impossible. “Tommy, f—fuck, oh my god,” it was incoherent garble. Nonsense talk as her eyes rolled back into her head for a few seconds. His head found the valley of her neck, peppering light kisses a major difference to the rough pace he had adopted.

“What is it sweetness,” Tom gasped right into her ear. The hot air tickling her skin. His other hand gripped callously at her hip, bruising the delicate skin under his fingers. “Come on tell me,” Tom was struggling to keep himself in check. The pure sound of skin against skin as he fucked her ass filled the air, pushing him closer to ecstasy. His hand pulled away from her lips, an immediately low moan tumbled from her lips. y/n waited for her body to response to anything, everything thrown out the window every time his dick hit her perfect spot inside of her.

“Har—harder,” she strained through strings of vulgarities and chants of his name. Tom smirked at her, she caught it before he pulled away from her. Tom started to slow his movements, observing how she swallowed him whole every time he thrusted into her tight hole.

“You really want it harder sweetness?” Tom asked, he was just as desperate for a release as she was. y/n nodded her head furiously, words seeming to fail her at this instance. “Turn around,” he ordered, she swivelled around to face him. Her once neat hair now a mess of pleasure tugged strains. Her lids fluttering shut and her cheeks flushed. She looked like a Greek statue. Tom bent and lifted her over his shoulders, earning a tiny giggle from his huffing wife above him. He frantically sprinted over to their bed and promptly chucked her on it. The force knocking a bit of wind out of her.

In a flash of actions, her face had been pressing into the mattress and her ass high up in air. Tom gave it a light smack before lining up and pounding right into her. Both of them let out a soft line of curses. It had never been this intense in their entire relationship.

The room was silent. Nothing could be heard outside but inside was a different idea. Tom brought her hips down roughly onto him, matching his tattered speed. y/n’s breaths were muffled by the cover of the blanks, her hands desperate for anything to latch onto for support as he fucks her relentlessly. It a beautiful mixture of sounds. Nothing like the soft breaths and gasps on a normal night. While those still as amazing as now, this was pure unfiltered animalistic need. No feelings, just a fantastic way to blow off incredible tense steam. Tom usually adored staring at her as her face scrunched up in pleasure but something about how every time his cock rammed up into her, everything moved with his thrusts. It was memorising, as if a painting had been brought to life. y/n had lost track of time during this, so focused on the way he was able to stretch her so wide that she had completely forgot how long she had been lying here. She didn’t dwell on it for too long before the divine familiar feeling presented itself to her, dwelling at the pit of her stomach.

“Go faster, I’m going t—to come,” she pleaded, lifting her head up for only a moment before diving right back into her muffled screams. Tom growled at this, picking up his already forceful speed. While he tried, his thrusts became sloppy and jagged.

“Come with me sweetness,” he whispered to her, his fingered rubbing cathartic circles on her sensitive clit. The sensation on her bud rupturing another last piece of sanity in her body.

With a final thrust, both y/n and Tom came. A relief as both almost shouted out in absolute ecstasy, their juices mixing together in a beautiful sense of the terms. y/n’s toes curled as she felt it all, every little piece of tension, anger and lust all combine and explode inside of her. Tom wasn’t even the slightest but worried as he had been before this had begun. His sweaty forehead lay against her spine, as his wife attempted to catch her breath. Slowly he pulled out of her, his cum leaking out of her. A sight he would love to have burned into his vision for the rest of his life.

“Feel better?” Tom asked her as he threw himself next to her. y/n turned to face him and for the first time that night an honest grin appeared on her face. A grin given to her by whatever relief she had received moments before.

“Much,” she replied.

━━★✼☆｡

[randomly-a-fan]

How Can “IT” Love a Human? Pt. 3

pt. 1

Pt. 2

Finale.

Archie wanted to see his mom, and so does his sister, but he knew that his dad wouldn’t let him, so he came up with a plan. “Dad, I’m just taking Kandy out to the park to play... and feast...” Archie said with a grimaced expression. Pennywise sighed before he responded. “Don’t be gone too long son, it’s going to be dark soon,” Pennywise said. Archie nodded and carried his sister in his backpack so it’ll be easier for him to get to places. When Archie made it to Cassandra’s place, he was going to sneak through the window where his mom is. 

Meanwhile, Scarlet was packing her things for when the time comes for her to leave. Cassandra walked in to talk to her paling cousin. “I’ve just hung up with Albert; he said he’ll be landing at the private airport at 10:00 pm tonight... Just so you’re aware...” Cassandra finished before she left for the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

As Scarlet continues packing, Archie got into the room through a locked window; obviously, Archie discovered his secret power. “Archie? What are you--” Then Kandy popped out of Archie’s bag after hearing her mom’s voice, as she was making happy gurgling noises. “Kandy? What are you both doing here, does your father know you were here?” Scarlet asked. “We just wanted to see you... We missed you... Even daddy misses you; he’s been moping on the couch all day.” Archie explained. Scarlet sighed as she was thinking about her husband. But thinking about him made her remember how he shut her out and expressed his negative feelings to her, made her cough ill-like. “Mom?” Archie said in worry. “...I know you two missed me so much, and I’m going to miss you both, very much...” As the three hugged, Archie wondered what his mom meant by ‘going to miss you’. “I’m leaving for home in New York tonight; I can’t bear the pain here in Derry...” Hearing what their mom said made Kandy cry since her mommy is leaving for good. “Aww, baby, come here...” Scarlet said as she picked up her baby and patted her back. “Mommy’s going to miss you too...” Scarlet said as she’s tearing up. Archie was devastated; the fact that his mom is never coming back will mean that he’ll have to be the responsible one; Oh how will he explain this to his dad?

*** 

Back at the Neibolt House, Pennywise was looking through the pictures back when he and Aquarius started dating; they were coming to life in his hands, just to get the visuals more clearly. 

He never has forgotten about the time they met; hating each other and fighting each other in their own monstrous form, in other words; playing hard to get.

Then he remembered their first kiss; true he first kissed her by the cheek, but that was more of a tease than an affection. It’s when he saved her from the laws that nearly caught sight of her killing the man for his sins, it was very unexpecting of her to kiss him passionately. 

Thinking and looking back at the photos is making him tear up. “I’d risk anything... to have you in my arms again... Clown or no clown, you’re still my Star in the Sky,” Pennywise said to himself as he was about to cry.

***

Pennywise noticed that it’s getting late, so he was planning on picking up the kids until he heard a noise from out back. “Archie?” Pennywise rushed out back and noticed that outside was showing some strong winds and clouds forming into a swirl, like as if there was going to be a twister. 

He was going to rush in until he was being sucked in by the vortex, pulling him down to the fiery pit. “NO PLEASE, I DID NOTHING WRONG...” Pennywise exclaimed while trying his hardest to hang on to the grass for dear life. However, he failed to hang on, he was being pulled down to hell and the ground closed back up.

It was dark for a minute until the flames lit up a path for Pennywise to follow. “Oh dear God...” Pennywise said to himself as he had no choice but to follow. “Come hither, Pennywise...” Said the echoey voice. Pennywise followed the creepy voice and noticed a silhouette of a satin. “Look... I may be in Hell, but you can’t take me away from my children when I’m not exactly dead yet--” “SILENCE,” said the figure as the flame rises. Pennywise flinched before the figure had the chance to explain. “Don’t talk until I SAY you can talk--” Then the light switch was flipped. “What the!” “Son, you know better than to be in the dark, you’ll ruin your eyes.” Said the mother. “MOM, I’m trying to do my WORK... I’m 923,435,003 years old for goodness sake!!!” said the mystery satin. 

Pennywise took a good look at the satin; correction, that ain’t no satin he has ever seen. It’s a clown. “Sorry about that, Pennywise... I’m just trying to be scary, it worked on Scarlet Jones when I first brought her here.” Said the Satin Clown. Pennywise’s jaws nearly dropped. “Wait... you’re that demon being that summoned her? Then you must have--” “Turned her into a demon clown? yes; she may be a Christian, but she did sin horribly: Lying to her parents, running away to join the circus...” The Satin Clown went on until Pennywise cut him off. “But why did you turn her into a human, can you change her back?” Pennywise asked and requested.

The Clown Satin got down from his throne to reveal his height; he’s actually quite short from Pennywise’s perspective. “Freddy Krueger thought it wouldn’t cause him harm if he messes with my apprentices; well, he thought wrong.” He snapped his fingers and appeared Freddy in the Chains of Despair. “Serves you right, Bacon Face!” Pennywise scolded Freddy. “To answer your last question, I can’t change her back unless she comes down here in a coma... But... You can change her back,” the clown said. 

Pennywise smiled with a big grin until he frowned in confusion. “How can I? I might accidentally kill her if I smell her succulent fear.” Pennywise asked. Freddy then spoke. “You thought you can prevent yourself from killing her by shutting her out? Well, you’re thought wrong; her fear is being separated from you and the kids, and since you kept you and your kids away from her, she’s slowly perishing, so... Serves YOU right, Ronald McDonald!” Freddy said with irony. The Satin Clown snapped his finger and gagged him with stitches sewed onto his lips shut. “When you’re sent back to Earth, go to her, kiss her by the lips, and she’ll be turned back into a demon clown.” Pennywise nodded with an evil grin as he doesn’t have a problem with that request. “As much as I hate to admit, but Freddy is right... She is slowly perishing, so you only have until 10:00 pm before she dies.” Pennywise stared in shock. “Well then, get me out of this Hell Hole!” Pennywise ordered.

With a snap of the clown’s fingers, Pennywise was laying on the ground in the grass and everything is back to normal. As he looked at the time, he saw that he only has thirty minutes before time runs out. As Pennywise was about to head over to Cassandra’s place, he saw his son with his baby sister in his backpack rushing over to their dad. “Dad... Mom... Mom is leaving... for... New York...” Archie said as he was running out of breath. “What!? You two were at Cassandra’s place... you know what, never mind that, it doesn’t matter... You said mommy is leaving for New York?” Pennywise asked. Archie nodded quickly. “Come on, we’ve got to get your mother back!” Pennywise called to his kids. Archie and Kandy stared at each other with excitement; they’re going to get their mother back... That is if they can make it to the private airport in thirty minutes. 

To Be Continued

[ororowrites]

Stripped -  (Yahya x Black OC)

Sweet Thang Series - Chapter 2

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,735

One-Shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1

By the end of the first song, Candace was in her comfort zone. Yahya never let his eyes leave her and she no longer felt shy. The club had rules about no touching but Candace suddenly wanted this man’s hands all over her. Those long fingers and smooth brown skin were doing things to her. Maybe it was the liquor making her horny over a man she didn’t even know. 

Little did Candace know, Yahya had thoughts racing in his mind too. He couldn’t stop thinking about her petite body under his or how her lips would feel on him. Candace was a beautiful woman and something about her intrigued Yahya. When she straddled his legs and began to grind on his lap, the urge to touch her grew. The scent of her perfume was as intoxicating as her hips, almost putting a spell on him. 

It must have been the alcohol that gave Candace the courage to make her next move. She could feel his breath on her lips before they were interrupted by the dance timer. The euphoria they had experienced quickly disappeared as they fell back to Earth. 

��Shit, sorry,” Candace apologized, swinging her legs to the floor. Yahya became any other customer and she held her hand out to collect her payment. “Thank you. You enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Yahya opened his mouth but Candace was already heading out the door, stuffing the bills in her bra. 

-------

Well into the next morning, Yahya was still thinking about the mystery girl from the club. He’d been to many strip clubs and never felt a connection with any of the ladies he encountered. Something about her grabbed him and sucked him in and had her on his mind hours later. 

“You still stuck on that hoe from the club.” Damon lit his blunt and relaxed his head against the back of the sofa. “Nigga, we ain’t taking you to the club again.”

“Word on the street is that the shawties at Dynasty have golden pussy or some shit,” his brother added with a drug induced chuckle. 

“Respect the ladies, man. Being a stripper doesn’t make them hoes. And Kevin that’s enough kush for you. Golden pussy? Really,” Yahya snatched the blunt from his friend and put it back in the ashtray. 

“Aight, let me respect the skrippas. But still, you don’t know her. What if she’s crazy? You will be going back home tomorrow night and no tellin’ when you’re coming back to LA, so why does it matter,” Damon explained. 

“Both of ya’ll are some fucking haters. Trash asses.” Yahya grabbed his phone and took his troubles to the balcony. Kevin and Damon were great friends but their childish, misogynistic antics got on his nerves when he was around them. At times, he felt like he was outgrowing them, even though he still considered them brothers he never had. While he was looking to settle down sooner rather than later, they were stuck in the same phase they were in throughout high school and college and it appeared to be a never ending cycle. 

Was it ridiculous to think that the stripper he met at the club was the one? Yep. But, that didn’t keep Yahya from wishing he could see her again before he was back to the reality of being jobless. 

-------

“Are you sure you saw him with her?” The very question had Candace’s heart pounding against her chest. Natalie, Maxwell’s ex-girlfriend, had entered the picture again after Candace thought her dropping out of school was the blessing they needed. Now with her back in California via North Carolina, she had access to Maxwell as did he to her. 

“Sis, would I lie to you? I saw that bastard with her in the Commons. Took everything out of me not to run up on them and start whooping ass,” Trinity said, fuming on her sister’s behalf. Truth be told, she never liked Maxwell and knew the type of guy he was from the beginning. Maxwell was charming and had the ability to make any girl weak in the knees. Especially a woman like her sister that was in love with being in love. 

Anger built from the pits of her stomach. Feelings of betrayal had never quite faded since they had made up and she ignored it in the name of love. “Did he see you?” 

“Nope. But I’ll make myself seen when it comes to my sister. Candy, why are you still trying to make things work with this immature, cheating ass, motherfucker? I try to hold my tongue like you ask but I refuse to hold it again. You’re too good for him.” When it came to family. Trinity was the sister that would physically fight for her siblings. At times, Candace admired her sister’s tenacity and wished she wasn’t as timid when it came to relationships with people. That was one negative trait that kept Candace anchored to people that did not deserve her time. 

“I honestly don’t know.” Tears began to form in Candace’s eyes as the shame set in for her. She knew Maxwell was no good for her but he always found a way back into her heart. “I’m...um...I’m going to talk to him.”

“Candace,” Trinity called out, noticing her sister’s emotions getting the best of her. “Please don’t cry over that man. Please.” 

If only Candace knew her worth. 

-------

Candace took the scenic route to Maxwell’s apartment, playing different scenarios in her head on the way. If she murdered him, where would she hide the body? Did she just hit him with questions or soften him up first? 

None of those scenarios played out once Candace reached her destination and was met by Natalie in the hall outside Maxwell’s apartment. The three of them froze, each of them searching for words to break up the awkward moment. 

“I should get going. I’ll call you when I get home,” Natalie mumbled, lowering her eyes and pushing past Candace. 

“I knew that apology was a lie and you were full of shit,” Candace spoke through clenched teeth. She was taught to never put her hands on anyone and it took a strong prayer to keep her fists at her sides. “What the hell is Natalie doing here and don’t even think about lying.” 

Maxwell didn’t even put up a fight. Besides, after the news he had learned, he didn’t have the energy to lie or smooth talk his way out of this one. 

“What was she doing here, Maxwell?”

“Natalie’s pregnant,” he replied, leaning against the wall across from Candace. He watched as his girlfriend’s face fell blank. “I fucked up and I’m sorry for that. You don’t deserve the shit I put you through.” 

Still lost for words, Candace slid down the wall until her rear hit the concrete floor. Pregnant. That had to be the final straw, right? The game they had been playing for the past three years had come to a tragic end that Candace feared. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I know I stay apologizing but I mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

Maxwell kept his distance. “Did what?” 

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, this would have stopped after the first incident. But I gave you chance after chance and you still didn’t fucking stop. I’m done, Max. I can’t put myself through this shit because it’s obvious you won’t stop. I’m foolish to even think you would,” Candace spoke in a hushed tone, never raising her voice or releasing the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I’m-”

“I don’t wanna hear another one of your tired excuses. I sure the hell hope your dick is clean. I’ll come back for my shit another day.” 

“Candy, come on-” 

“Move! Don’t fucking touch me.” Blood rushed to Candace’s face as the embarrassment set in and she could no longer look Maxwell in the eye. This relationship had become a part of her identity and she allowed it to consume her so much that she forgot to love herself. “We’re done, Maxwell.” 

Candace ignored the apologies and groveling. A weight lifted off her shoulders and she didn’t intend to put it back ever again. 

------

Yahya had one more day to enjoy Los Angeles before he had to return to San Francisco to figure out his next move. He was desperate to burn off steam and decided to hit the park for a workout. The skies were clear, granting Yahya  a good dose of vitamin D while he ran the steps. He pushed himself to do one more set before taking a lap around the trail for a cool down. Yahya was so focused, he didn’t notice Candace approaching him from the opposite sidewalk. 

“Hey...wassup,” he said, removing his headphones when he finally saw the brown beauty in his path. 

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d run into one of my customers...ever,” Candace chuckled nervously. The breakup had her emotions all over the place and gave her the bravado to approach a man from the club. Keeping those two lives separate  was important to her except in that moment. 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t want to think of myself as your customer. That’s a little weird,” Yahya admitted, earning a nod from Candace in agreement. “But since we’re outside of your job, can I get your real name?” 

“Candace.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Candace. I’m Yahya.”

A short, awkward moment of silence gave Candace time to get a better look at the man she had danced on in a dark strip club. Beautiful dark brown skin covered a body that looked like it was sculpted with the utmost care. If you looked up tall, dark and handsome in the dictionary, Yahya’s picture would be used as the definition. Once her eyes traveled back up to his face, his bright, white smile captured her and held on for dear life. The man was fine and seeing him in the light had Candace acting like a shy, school girl. 

“You live around here,” Candace asked, breaking the silence. 

“No, I’m visiting my boys from back home. I’m living in San Francisco right now. I go back tomorrow evening,” he explained, looking Candace over. She was petite compared to his 6′3 frame. “You?” 

“I’m from Chicago but moved here to go to school. Trying to live the dream, ya know?” 

“I hear that,” Yahya nodded. “Well Candace, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we ran into each other. Would you like to get a recovery smoothie with me? My treat. Unless you’re still in the middle of your workout.” 

“I can cut out early. I know a good smoothie spot not too far from here if you don’t mind walking.” 

Yahya’s smile grew, “Sounds like a plan, let me put on a shirt.” 

Or not, Candace thought to herself. 

--------

After the ice was broken, Candace and Yahya began to enjoy each other’s company. The break-up earlier that day was still on Candace’s mind, but she felt at ease being around Yahya. Sure, they didn’t know one another on a deep level, yet she could sense Yahya’s compassion. When she spoke, his eyes stayed on her and he truly listened. One thing that irked her about Maxwell was his inability to listen below the surface level. 

“That’s too bad. Many of these fellas out here don’t appreciate their lady until she’s gone.” Maxwell sounded like many men Yahya knew and the type of man his parents raised him not to be. He could see the hurt in Candace’s face when she described what had led up to the end of their relationship. 

“Yeah, it’s just a shame I wasted my time and my heart on a guy that didn’t want to protect it.”

“His loss, your win.” 

Dumping personal information on a stranger was not how Candace usually moved, nonetheless it felt good. “I’m sorry for treating you like a therapist.”

“Nah, you’re good. You had a rough day. I don’t mind listening.” 

“Thanks, but I wanna hear more about you. What do you do in expensive ass San Francisco,” Candace quizzed, sipping her raspberry/banana smoothie. 

Yahya hoped telling Candace about his unemployment wouldn’t ruin his chances. He still hadn’t shared the news with anyone else. “I was a City Planner for the Mayor’s office but I was laid off on Friday. I honestly don’t even know what the hell I’m going to do when I go back home.” 

One of Candace’s strongest traits was her empathy. She had no issue stepping into a person’s shoes and feeling what they felt. Those that were worthy enough to spend time with her felt Candace’s warmth right away. Yahya could feel it, which is why he felt comfortable sharing the news with her.

“I’m sorry, Yahya. Shit sucks when you get well into your career and your job is in another person’s hands,” Candace sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Are you thinking about staying there and getting another job?”

“To be honest, I need a change of scenery. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise because I think I got comfortable in my lifestyle. I loved my job but things were stagnant,” he explained, tracing the lettering on his smoothie cup. “Right now, I’m thinking about taking a break and figuring out what I want to do from there. I’ll get unemployment, so I’ll manage until I find another career that makes me happy.” 

“That’s brave of you. I’m too damn scary and would need to have a plan right away. Good luck with that. You seem to be a determined man so you’ll find your way. I’m hoping I can graduate and get into Yale then we will see if I make a career out of this acting thing. If not, I’ll go back to school for education and teach theatre.” 

“Wow, Yale? I did some acting classes back in the day and they seemed pretty cool. I don’t know if I have the talent to get into a school like Yale though. I need to work on my Denzel cry first.” The two shared a laugh and finished up their smoothies. 

Time passed as their conversation ranged from discussing their childhoods to recent life events. They were so deep into discussion, they didn’t notice that two hours had gone by since they first arrived at the smoothie shop. Candace was more easy going than Yahya thought. That shy exterior had fallen down, exposing the sweet and funny side of her. Like many women in the stripping industry, her persona in the club was a lot different from her true self. He wished he could get to know more of that side.

They walked back towards the park, where their cars were parked on a side street. Yahya walked Candace to her Jeep and waited for her to load the backseat with her duffle bag. 

“Thanks for the smoothie and talk. I needed that more than I thought,” Candace closed the back door and stood in front of the driver’s side door. “Dr. Yahya is a great listener, even though we’re complete strangers.” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I wasn’t kidding about taking some acting classes with you when I’m in town,” he replied, flashing his wide grin. 

“I’ll hold you to that Mr. Abdul-Mateen. Like I said, acting is like recess so it’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe you’re a natural at the shit.” 

“We’ll see, we’ll see. I won’t hold you up, you should probably get home before it gets too dark. Text me when you make it.” 

“Alright. Thanks again, Yahya. For real,” Candace’s soft curls blew over her face as the wind picked up. 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for listening to me ramble. Get home safely and don’t forget to let me know.” Yahya leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Candace’s cheek. The simple act almost made her melt into a puddle in the LA street. Opening her car door, Yahya waved her inside. “Bye, Candace.” 

“See you later.” 

Candace drove away feeling like a new chapter of her life was on the horizon and she was ready to face whatever it had in store. 

Taglist: @blackburnbook​ @just-peachee​ @emjayewrites​

Want a tag? Let me know. 

[megalony]

Teacher’s Pet- Part 15

Here is the latest part of my dad! Ben Hardy series and the gender reveal is in this part, I hope you will all like it and feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogermeddow​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish​​​ @gwilymleeisbae​​​​ @k-k0129​​​​​ @haileymorelikestupid​​​​ @glittrixvibe​​​​ @youngpastafanmug​ @ultraviolencezs​

Series masterlist

Summary: Gwilym sets Ben up on a date with (Y/n) who teaches at the school Ben’s kids go to. But Ben is hesitant in the relationship, desperate not to make the same mistakes and needing to put his kids first.

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"Will you still be happy if we're having a boy?" (Y/n) knew it was a silly question to ask but she couldn't help how it was starting to play on her mind more and more lately.

They were about to have a scan today and they were able to find out if they were having a baby boy or girl. (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder what kind of reaction Ben would have if it turned out that they were having a boy because from what he had said, he didn't want that to be the case. He felt like every time he had a boy it was fate telling him that this relationship was not going to last and it never did.

Ben loved (Y/n) and he knew this relationship was better, it was something different and something he wanted to treasure and keep but having a boy would make him paranoid that it wasn't going to last.

"It's not that I wouldn't he happy because I would, every time I've been in this position I've been overjoyed. It's just that a boy would make me paranoid, I wouldn't be any less content or thrilled if we had a boy."

Ben couldn't have (Y/n) mistaking his paranoia for unhappiness because he would never be unhappy to hear he was having a child or that the child was a boy. Every time he had learned the gender he had been increasingly worried but he was always happy and ecstatic every time because he loved each of his boys. They were his world, it just made him superstitious that he may lose his relationship if he had a boy. But if they were having another boy Ben would still be happy, he could never be unhappy because children were his life.

"Okay... forget about the stigma and paranoia attached, would you like another boy this time, or do you want a girl?" (Y/n)'s smile showed she was trying to lighten the mood but she was curious.

Ben seemed so at ease and comfortable with the boys, it seemed like it suited him to have sons. But (Y/n) was interested if he had always wanted boys or if he wanted a girl and if he still wanted a girl this time around or not.  (Y/n) herself had never cared what gender child she would have but now that she had three boys all at once, a girl might be a nice change. But then again, (Y/n) wouldn't mind if they had a boy, it would just be like she was supposed to be the only girl in the family and that thought made her smile.

"I'd like a girl this time. Jamie wanted a girl and I didn't dare tell her I was happy we were having a boy and I was happy to have another boy with Ellie. When I had Finn I was sure he'd be a girl, three in a row didn't seem likely I was so prepared for a girl that time around. I do love the boys, I always liked having just us four boys round the house, but I want a girl too."

The way that Ben smiled as he spoke gave away that he wasn't begging or praying for a girl because he was worried, he wanted a girl because he was desperate to finally have a daughter to look after and spoil.

Ben had just known with Carter that he and Jamie were having a boy, it was like a sixth sense. Jamie had been in two minds about having a baby in the first place but she had wanted a girl and Ben knew Jamie could just see herself with a daughter. Everyone had the perfect image of a family in their mind but it rarely worked out. Jamie didn't mind that they had a boy but Ben was pleased, he would never deny that he wanted a boy more than a girl when he had Carter. And again with Ellie, he wanted another boy.

Finn was different just because Ben had been expecting a girl rather than wanting or praying for one. It just didn't seem right that he would have three boys in a row but it happened and Ben had been happy.

It had been him and his boys for the past two years.

But now he wanted a girl. He was desperate for a girl, he had a picture in his head of their family and he couldn't get a daughter out of that picture.

"Let's go find out."

(Y/n) entwined her fingers with Ben and gently tugged on his hand when the midwife walked into the waiting room and called their name. It didn't matter to (Y/n) if they had a boy or a girl and deep down she knew whatever way this went, Ben would be happy. But his eyes just lit up when thinking about a girl and (Y/n) wanted that light to stay in his eyes. The boys were a big handful as they were and when they had this baby (Y/n) didn't know if their family would ever expand more than four kids. If they had a boy this time around there might not be another chance for Ben to finally have a daughter that he seemed so keen on having right now.

But they would be happy either way.

(Y/n) could feel the nerves rattling through her chest when she sat down and rolled her shirt up over her stomach. Every time she looked down at her stomach, (Y/n) felt her heart jumping in her chest because something about this didn't feel real. It seemed too good to be true that she had Ben and the boys and was now having a baby of her own with Ben.

"Alright, would you like to find out the gender today?" The smiles on both their faces was more than enough to tell the midwife that they were ready to find out what they were having today.

(Y/n)'s eyes drifted between her stomach and the monitor like she couldn't quite believe the baby on the screen was the one she was growing and protecting right now. She didn't realise she had started to bite her thumb out of nervousness until Ben's hand gently reached up to take her hand from her mouth. He tangled his fingers into the grooves between hers so she wouldn't carry on the nervous habit.

"You're having a girl."

The moment those words hit (Y/n)'s ears her hand tightened around Ben's until she was sure she must have cut off his circulation but he held her hand just as tightly.

Part of Ben felt bad. He had wanted a girl in the beginning because he couldn't live with the fear that something would happen and he would lose (Y/n) one way or another. Now he almost felt guilty like he had pushed for this to happen because he was so afraid. But he did want a girl to spoil, the thought of a daughter made his heart beat faster and made him smile because he'd always looked after his three boys. A girl would be different, it would be perfect to have a girl because Ben could just envision himself with a daughter and three boys around to help look after and protect her.

Turning her head to the left, (Y/n) looked over at Ben but his eyes spared her a short glance before they focused on her stomach like he was trying his best to see straight through her stomach to their baby. He looked and felt desperate to see her now. After Finn, Ben didn't think he would have any more kids, he didn't even think he would ever manage a proper stable relationship after what happened with all his exes so far.

Yet here he was with (Y/n), finally expecting a girl and he suddenly had the urge to want her here right now. He didn't want to wait another four months, he wanted to hold her now and look at her and see who she resembled more.

Ben couldn't help himself when he moved his free hand and slowly reached over until his fingers were feathering over (Y/n)'s stomach. He stopped for a moment when she moved against his touch that clearly tickled but she made no attempt to stop him. It felt like feathers were gliding against (Y/n)'s stomach but the gentle touch only made her smile more than the fact that they were going to have a daughter. When Ben moved his hand and grazed the back of his knuckles and fingers against her stomach (Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe with how gentle his touch was which was directed towards their baby girl.

"We're having a girl."

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A smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips as she looked down at James who was stood between her and Ben. The seven year old was holding their hands and swinging himself back and forth between them, giggling each time Ben lifted him up by his hand and set him back down again. (Y/n) liked the way Ben didn't even tense or groan or even take a deep breath each time he lifted James off his feet by lifting their entwined hands in the air. The only thing that showed it wasn't effortless was the way Ben's arm tensed and the veins could be seen beneath his skin.

The five of them were taking a walk in the park before they went home for tea and all the boys knew it wasn't normal or routine to go to the park right after school.

They had decided that since all three boys seemed to be coping with the news of having a new sibling, they would take them to the park to tell them that they were going to have a little sister. The park was somewhere the boys all enjoyed going and if Carter got mad or annoyed he could storm off along the path instead of feeling like he should lash out.

"Can we feed the ducks?"

Ben looked down at Finn who was standing on his other side, tugging on his hand to get his attention. Finn held his other hand out to show the half-full bag of bread that Ben had let him carry for when they reached the bridge over the pond. The boys loved to feed the ducks and the swans at the pond, it was something Finn took a big liking to recently.

"Yeah, you lead the way buddy." Ben let go of Finn's hand so the youngest boy could hurry ahead round the slope to get down to the bridge with Carter running closely behind him.

When they got to the wooden bridge, Ben let go of James' hand so he could pick Finn up and stand him on the ledge so he could see over the side of the bridge and look at the birds. Ben kept his arms around Finn and gently rested his chin on top of Finn's head as Finn handed the bag of bread to (Y/n) so she could hand it out to everyone.

(Y/n) split the slices of bread between James and Carter and took two for herself, looking down at the rather large swan that was resting very close to them, waiting for its dinner. With a smile, (Y/n) leaned her head on Ben's shoulder as the cold breeze swept past them and the sound of the ducks chirping and the water rippling beneath them flooded their ears.

Her eyes floated around them, seeing Carter on Ben's left, stood on the side of the bridge leaning over to throw the bread. He was being oddly calm and gentle as he delicately threw the bread towards the ducks, trying not to feed the same ones every time. It was like he was being methodical, making sure he tried to get each duck and swan fed and it was making him concentrate.

When (Y/n) looked at James who was stood next to her he seemed to be trying to feed the ducks at the very back, wanting to let them have some food too. Whereas Finn was content feeding a swan that had taken his fancy.

"Why are we at the park? We don't come to the park after school." Carter finally spoke up after he'd thrown the last piece of bread he had and he made sure it had all been eaten by the ducks below.

It was surprising that Carter hadn't asked before now why they were going to the park. The routine was always to either go home with Ben and wait for (Y/n) to finish or hang around a little while and all go home together for dinner. But today even though (Y/n) had had the day off from work it still wasn't normal for them to get in the car and drive straight to the park rather than going home. It was a nice surprise and Carter loved coming to the park to feed the ducks, but he knew it wasn't a usual part of their routine.

"Me and your mum want to talk to you, we thought it'd be nice to come here for a bit." Ben tightened his arms around Finn to hug him but his eyes focused on Carter who narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite believe Ben or suspected something was wrong.

"We went for a scan to check on the baby today." (Y/n) wrapped her arm around Ben's upper bicep as she spoke, feeling butterflies fluttering in her chest as she wondered how each boy was going to react.

"Baby." Finn mumbled the word quietly as he turned to look at (Y/n) standing next to him. He reached his hand out and gently patted (Y/n)'s stomach which was less visible with the coat she was wearing. He clearly didn't grasp why the baby was in (Y/n)'s stomach but it still seemed to fascinate him. Especially when he saw Ben kissing or rubbing (Y/n)'s stomach, Finn had taken to rubbing (Y/n)'s stomach too and it was an adorable sight to both parents.

"Yeah, we went to check on the baby, and now we know if your having a baby brother or sister."

Ben placed his hand over the top of Finn's and gently smoothed his fingers over (Y/n)'s stomach for a moment or two. He smiled when he noticed Carter's head snap in his direction at the notion that they could finally find out what gender the baby was. And James latched his arm around (Y/n)'s and stared up at her with bright eyes that were full of desperation. All the boys had been asking when they would find out if the baby was a boy or a girl so Ben and (Y/n) decided to keep it a surprise and not tell them when they would find out.

"What is it? What is it?" Carter jumped up and down on the wooden beam until Ben rose a brow to get him to stop. The bridge wasn't the newest one here and if Carter started messing around he could do some damage.

"It's... a baby."

"Dad!" Carter jumped up and down again as he frowned, whining in annoyance. He knew Ben was just trying to tease with him because Carter had very little patience at all.

(Y/n) swatted Ben's arm as she rolled her eyes, biting her lip when Finn started laughing quietly at how easily Ben could wind Carter up.

"You're going to have a baby sister." (Y/n) kept her hand hooked around Ben's arm as she spoke because she could feel the apprehension in the air about what gender the baby would be. She knew that James would be thrilled about having a sister just like Ben, but Carter and Finn wanted a boy.

"You said you always have boys." Finn turned his head so he could look up at Ben, a bit of confusion in his eyes but he didn't look too upset about the news which seemed to be a good thing right now. He leaned his head on Ben's shoulder when Ben smiled down at him.

"I know I did, but I thought a baby girl might be better this time."

"Mummy said you didn't get to decide, she said it was surprise." Finn whispered his confused words against Ben's ear like he was telling him a secret and essentially he was. This was the first time Finn had referred to (Y/n) as his mum and Ben knew how big of a step for Finn this was and it brought tears to his eyes that he willed to push away. Finn still wasn't perfectly at ease around (Y/n) and that was only to be expected after what he had gone through. But to know that he was warming up to (Y/n) and actually feeling more comfortable around her was amazing.

"It was a surprise, but mummy doesn't know I'm magic." Ben's response seemed to satisfy Finn who smiled shyly and nodded before he looked over at (Y/n).

"A baby sister!" The excitement in James' voice made both parents smile, watching him with happiness as he wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and leaned his head gently against her stomach. He liked it when it was Ben and the boys in the house but now (Y/n) was here, another girl in the house did sound like fun.

"Honey... what do you think?"

(Y/n) leaned around Ben so she could look over at Carter who had stayed quiet for a few minutes which hadn't been a good sign when they told him they were having a baby. He glanced his eyes over to (Y/n) and despite how angry and frustrated he looked, he seemed to be trying to stay calm and not have an outburst. He didn't want to be angry in public, nor did he want to be angry around (Y/n) because he knew Ben wouldn't be happy if he did.

"Why aren't you having a boy? You always have boys." Carter hopped down from the side of the bridge and turned to face Ben and the way his brows furrowed and his lips pursed made him look even more like Ben.

"Alright let's go on a walk."

Ben set Finn down to his feet next to (Y/n) whose hand he squeezed for a moment before he took Carter's hand and gently tugged him to start walking. He wasn't walking them away, he was just going ahead of the others so he could talk to Carter for a moment while (Y/n) followed a few paces behind with James and Finn.

"Carter we're not having another fight but I'll gladly talk about this, tell me why you think a sister will be so bad." Ben rubbed his hand up and down Carter's back until the eldest wriggled away from his touch and walked a step ahead of Ben. His face was pure annoyance and he wrapped his arms around his chest but he wasn't screaming or fighting Ben so it was a very good state for him right now.

"It's a girl, you and mum and nana and everyone will fuss cause she'll be the only girl and it will make her special. Everyone will give her more attention and it won't be fair, I don't want a sister I want a brother."

"Buddy... if we had a baby boy then everyone would still fuss because it's a baby. You know a baby needs a lot of care and looking after, we'll have to dress her and feed and change her and help her if she's ill and that means people will fuss even if we had a boy. She will be the only girl but she won't be any more special or loved than any of you boys."

Ben knew a baby was going to be hard right now because all the boys needed attention and care and a baby would make that harder. Especially with the care and attention Carter needed at the moment, even with (Y/n) now in the picture she would still have to care for their baby girl too. Everyone would fuss it was only natural because it was a baby and a baby took a lot of care and attention and love. But the boys would still get a lot of attention too in order to make sure they were okay and coping with everything.

"You'll be different with a girl!"

"What do you mean?"

"You're... you're different with us! You're normal with us but if you have a girl then you won't be the same. You'll be soft and weird! You have boys, you always say you're meant to have boys not a girl!" Carter stomped his foot which was rather deflated against the soft grass beneath his feet but it still proved his point.

Ben was a dominant and rather authoritative figure in Carter's life, he was masculine and in charge and Carter liked Ben with that kind of image. If Ben had a daughter Carter was sure Ben would be different and be a softer, more calmer version of himself and it wouldn't be his dad if Ben was any different. He wanted Ben to have another boy because it was normal and how things should be in Carter's eyes. He didn't like change and he didn't want a sister because that would shake things up too much.

A sigh escaped Ben's lips as he rubbed his hand over his tired eyes for a moment to try and comprehend what Carter was saying. Ben knew a daughter might make him softer but it wouldn't change him completely. Ben's job made him have a hard attitude and exterior, he dealt with difficult people all day and he had to be hard with Carter at times when he was having a tantrum. It was how he always was and how people knew him he wasn't going to change.

Ben locked eyes with Carter for a few moments as he grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket and pressed it to his lips. He used his sleeve to light the cigarette without the wind cutting out the flame from his lighter before he looked back over at his eldest.

"I say I have boys, I never say I'm meant to have boys or that I should always have boys. I won't change how I am because we're having a daughter this time, I might be a bit softer around her but I won't change-"

"Yes you will! You won't stand near mum anymore with a smoke because you're soft! You'll be different because it's a girl and you don't have girls you have us!"

Carter pointed at the cigarette that was now held between Ben's thumb and index finger that he was tapping on the cigarette to flick the ash onto the grass. Ben smoked around (Y/n) before because she said she didn't mind, she didn't smoke herself but the smell didn't annoy her but now he didn't because of the baby. Ben smoked since he was seventeen and he always smoked away from any of the girls when they had been pregnant.

"I don't smoke close to any of you because you're too young and I'm not smoking round your mum right now because she's pregnant. You want me to smoke next to your mum when it's bad for her and the baby?" Ben pointed the cigarette in (Y/n)'s direction before he placed it back between his lips.

A groan mixed with a whine left Carter's lips before he suddenly took a few harsh steps towards Ben. As if he could read his son's mind Ben tilted his head up to exhale the smoke in his lungs before he moved the cigarette back between his fingers and held his hand up out of Carter's reach. But Carter simply stuffed his hand into Ben's pocket and quickly grabbed the half empty pack of cigarettes left in there.

"Carter give them back."

Ben held his hand out to Carter but the eldest shook his head and took a few steps back to try and add space between them but Ben only advanced further over to him. This had happened a few times before, when Carter got really mad with Ben he would find his cigarettes and hide them to try and teach him a lesson. He knew Ben hated not having his smokes on him, it was a bad habit he was addicted to and Carter knew hiding them made Ben angry and agitated.

Carter had once taken a lit cigarette from Ben's hand and ran off with it before stubbing it out. Ben had been very relieved Carter didn't try and smoke it, mainly because he hated the smell, but it still led to a big argument between them that caused a tantrum.

"No! You said smoking is bad so you can't do it just like mum can't."

"It's not that your mum can't smoke it's that she doesn't want to and I know it's bad but I'm old enough to make that decision, you don't get to make that one for me." Ben knew Carter was only taking the cigarettes because he was trying to wind Ben up to show him how annoyed and upset Carter felt right now and it was working. He knew just how to push Ben's buttons.

"It's a bad decision to have a girl-"

"Nope. Don't do that Carter because I'm not arguing this with you. We can talk about this but you don't say stuff like that, it's not a decision to have a girl it wasn't up to us but we're happy to have a daughter. If I don't smoke I'll be as grumpy as you and it will make me look softer around you all so give them back. I don't mind if you're upset right now but don't say that shit cause I don't like it and it might upset your mum so don't do that."

Ben stubbed out the cigarette between the tarmac and his shoe before he reached over and snatched the packet from Carter who was trying to process what he had just said. There wasn't time for Carter to respond before he whined when Ben picked him up and slung him over his shoulder so he could walk back over to (Y/n) who had bypassed them and gone ahead with the boys.

"Daddy put me down!" Carter hit his hand against Ben's upper back but it wasn't harsh or hurtful, he was just trying to be set back down to his feet but it wasn't working.

"Nope. You annoyed me so I'll annoy you, and don't think having a sister around will stop me from doing this." Ben held onto Carter's legs and moved him on his shoulder to pretend to drop him causing Carter to shriek and cling to Ben's back before he growled in frustration.

Moving his arm Carter reached down and hit Ben's backside but he couldn't help but giggle when Ben smacked his bum in response without stopping in his stride.

"Don't be using my move buddy." Ben kept Carter on his shoulder since he seemed to have calmed down a bit and was laughing now showing he wasn't angry. He moved his free arm around (Y/n) who had Finn holding her other hand and James running a few paces ahead, babbling about something or other since he was clearly very happy.

"And you wonder why he does it." (Y/n) rolled her eyes as she looked over at Ben when he moved his hand to her bum, knowing Carter could see since he was looking over Ben's shoulder with how Ben was carrying him.

"I know exactly why he does it, I'm just telling him it's my move."

(Y/n) buried her face in Ben's shoulder to smother the smile on her face as Ben kept his hand right where it was. He didn't care that they were in public, (Y/n) knew he touched her ass a lot more in public because he was cheeky like that and he knew it made her blush. He didn't care if people saw or smiled or gave them a funny look and he didn't care if the boys saw him do it either.

"Mum's blushing!" James turned and pointed at (Y/n) with a grin that made Ben laugh, especially when Finn giggled and tugged on (Y/n)'s hand to try and see her better. They could all see the blush creeping up her cheeks and all down her neck despite how she was trying to hide in Ben's neck.

"Aren't you glad you're not gonna be outnumbered anymore?"

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Third: Killan

CW: Literally nothing beyond some vague visual references to past torture, plus some unpleasant/negative generalizations about a fictional species. Killan is truly living the comf dream.

TIMELINE: ... later

As always, Killan’s universe and details of fae meta/biology/magic all belong to @wildfaewhump!

Even though the young woman knew the way, it still took three hours to walk from the barn, where she always stopped first to give a final scritch behind the ears to her favorite barn cat, to her aunt's tiny wooden cabin. 

It wasn’t even an easy three hours of walking. Instead, it was three hours of hard hiking in her loose pants and shirt with a shawl thrown over for warmth, her thick black hair with its rough curls sticking to her neck with sweat even as she shivered from the chill breeze. Sometimes the walk felt like it was all straight up, placing each step with care as the rocks scattered back down below and her heavy boots dug into the earth to keep her hold. 

At least her skin had held its color from summer and she felt the warmth of the sun settle in as she walked up to see her aunt.

The old woman lived up high on a ridge, hugging the side of the great mountains where the fae stayed hidden, with a view in the winter of the village far below and in the summer of acres upon acres of bright green trees and fields.

No one lived closer to the fae than her aunt did without coming to harm - the young woman even saw them circling overhead sometimes, out on the hunt. She’d even seen a mother, or she thought it was a mother anyway, with three littler fae flying behind her. 

Might’ve been cute, if the fae didn’t teach their fledglings to hunt by siccing them on lambs and other defenseless things in the spring. The young woman had made a note of the fledglings, that year, and they’d kept an eye out. No lambs went missing, though, so maybe the fae mam had decided to teach her babes to hunt somewhere else.

Living this close to the fae was dangerous. Anyone else would’ve been terrified to live that way, but her aunt had kept the same home since she built it herself as a young woman and swore she would live nowhere else.

I have honest dealings with Sidhe, love, said the old woman - who wasn't really her aunt, not by blood, but who was connected to her instead through a complex web of distant relations and friendships that her family simply called kin. Honest as can be. There had been a twinkle in milky green eyes that the young woman never quite understood, when she said those words. You might say, if you were so inclined, that I have had the most honest sort of dealings one can have.

Her aunt’s laughter had near lifted the roof off with its volume, and the young woman had smiled uncertainly along, even though she didn’t quite get the joke. 

Her aunt’s sense of humor always puzzled her. Fae weren’t to be joked about, not with such a jovial, even affectionate, tone. They were dangerous. They hurt people, slaughtered those who tried to find the pass through the mountains. They spoiled milk and made people sick. Everyone in the village kept iron along every window and doorway to keep the fae out. 

Everyone except her aunt, whose windows were always open, like she wanted them to crawl in with their wiry limbs and claw her face off. It had never happened, but… still. It wasn’t safe to live alone, to live so close to the fae. Her aunt did it anyway.

The young woman didn’t even know her real first name. She was Aunt Llyrie, but everyone knew Llyrie was just a name she’d taken, said she’d been given by someone and thought she’d keep.

By who, Auntie?

Mmmn, someone else, from long ago, when I was prettier than I had any right to be and he took a liking to walking on the ground for a while. That’s all you’ll ever need to know, love.

The young woman and her sisters and cousins had all asked her aunt, and the answer was always the same. Someone else. What could that even mean? 

She was called Aunt Llyrie because all women above an age were Aunt So-and-So or Auntie Whoever. It was simply how you did things, and the young woman had never thought twice about it. Her mother's sister was her aunt, and so was the old woman up on the ridge who grew herbs and made potions and salves. She came down only to check on pregnant women and new babies, and otherwise people who needed help went to her.

Not that very many people did. The old woman was spoken of in hushed tones. People made a sign against evil, they called her touched. 

But they asked her to be there when their babies were born, anyway. No woman had died in childbirth in forty-three years, not since the old woman had taken up midwifery and started bringing her medicines with her. She had been there for the births of babies, and those babies’ babies. She might be there to meet the first babies’ grandbabies, too.

Who knew?

She was odd, though. Ask her about the fae and her aunt's face would settle into a hundred wrinkles like lines on an ancient browned map as she smiled.

Her voice creaked a little as age wore down its firm strength in sound but not in the iron-tough foundation of her spirit, and she would only shake her head. I do not fear the Sidhe. Will they carry an old woman away when they did not take the young one? Paugh, maybe he will one day. I would thank him for the final journey into the sky. 

The young woman didn’t understand that, either. 

Still, she had gone to see her aunt a hundred times or more, in her life. She was always welcomed with open arms by a woman who had seen her coming long before she actually arrived. 

Today, though, she wound her way up the small path only to find her aunt’s cabin closed up tight. Even the shutters to those open windows were closed, despite the mild mountain air. A thin curl of smoke wound up from the chimney, the only sign of life beyond the solid black cat who slept along the low stone wall that encircled the garden. She gave it a quick run of fingers along the top of its head and down its back as she passed, feeling it arch up gratefully into her touch. It meowed, stretching, and leapt gracefully down to the path to trot along beside her.

Swallowing, she knocked on her aunt’s door, feeling trepidation curl cold and heavy in the bottom of her stomach. “Auntie? Are you at home?”

Where else would she be? In the young woman’s twenty years on earth, she had never once seen her aunt be anywhere else but home or seeing to the birthing of a baby. And since there were no new babies in the village…

The door popped open with a creak of ancient hinges, and the young woman swallowed as her aunt’s eyes peered through, with an expression she had never seen before - suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I-” The young woman blinked, startled. She felt suddenly guilty, even though she had committed no crime. Did I do something wrong and I just don’t remember? “I came to ask for a tincture, there’s an ague has hit the blacksmith and his family. My mam sent me up-”

Her aunt cleared her throat, cracked the door just a little bit wider. “Today’s not the day for it, love,” She said, her voice slightly sharp, snappish in a way that made the young woman take a step back, unsettled and uncertain. 

“Well, I… it’s just, the ague is quite-... Aunt, are you well?” The young woman’s head tilted, trying to take a closer look, only to have the old woman close the door slightly, showing just one blue eye through the crack. Her heart began to race. She had clearly done something, said something on her last visit, angered the old woman in some way. But she had no idea what she could possibly have done. “If you’re sick, Auntie, I could nurse you?”

“I’m not sick, dear.” There was a pause, the old woman taking time to think, and then she said, “Can you keep a secret, love? From everyone but me?”

“A… a secret?” Despite her nervousness, and how ominous everything seemed when put together, the young woman had to admit she felt no small thrill at the idea of something secret. In a village like hers, there was no such thing as a secret. Even a quick kiss with the blacksmith’s son was reported to her mam within minutes, and she a grown woman whose kisses should be her own business by now. “I could, Auntie, of course I could. But what is the secret?”

Her aunt hesitated a moment more, and then the door swung open. Inside smelled like a mix of smoke and something savory, and the young woman’s eyes lit on the meat pies cooling out on the table as she stepped into the open cabin’s kitchen-side. “You must swear on your life you won’t tell a soul, love.”

“I won’t, Auntie, swear on my heart.” Her eyes scanned the walls, finding all the cooking pans hung on their hooks, bundles of herbs drying above the fireplace, a kettle hung for water to boil for tea. It was all the same, and yet there was a change in the air in here, something different indeed. Something smelled sharp and cold, like the way the night smelled in autumn when the sky was clear and the stars gave off nearly as much light as the moon. “What is the secret?”

There was a rustling from the bed-corner, and the young woman turned that way to stare, wide-eyed, at what she thought at first must be the largest bird she had ever seen. 

Her aunt’s hand, warm, dry, with softly wrinkled brown skin like thin creased paper folded a thousand times until it is nearly cloth, came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “It’s not a ‘what’,” She said, her voice gentle. “It’s a ‘who’.”

“Wh-what-”

The wings moved, parting to reveal-

“Gods almighty, a fae!” The young woman scrambled backwards, tripped over a broom, fell flat on her arse on the flat wooden slats of the floor. She let out a breathy scream, backing up until her back hit the wall, grabbing the handle of a cast-iron cookpan as tightly as she could - let the bastard fae try to hurt her, she’d whack it with iron until its face was nothing but boils, she would, she’d not go quietly into some fae’s stomach - and holding it in front of her as a weapon.

The thing on the bed flinched back when she did, curling itself up tightly, staring at her with wide, terrified bright blue eyes with razor-thin slit pupils, perfectly inhuman. Its face, though… well, its face and hair looked nothing like she’d been told fae should look. It wasn’t angular or pointy-chinned, had no pointed ear that folded back or forwards, it just looked like… like a person. Like some man her own age, really. 

It looked… well, it looked frightened, is what. Of her.

It made a high keening sound of fear, not a human sound at all.

“Calm, the both of you,” Her aunt snapped, stepping between them. The young woman didn’t move, kept the iron pan out ahead of her like a knight brandishing a sword. The fae-but-not-fae stayed pressed up against the wall in the bed, his wings shivering, trilling low in its throat. She could hear the feathers rustling with its fear. “He won’t hurt you, love. He’s just looking for a place to heal.”

“H-Heal? From what?” Her voice shook, but her hands didn’t. She was proud of that. 

Her aunt began to laugh, and the young woman simply stared blankly, wondering if the old woman had perhaps lost her mind. “The ague, dear. Same as the blacksmith. This young man has taken quite ill.”

The young woman turned narrowed eyes back to the thing on the bed. Had it bewitched her aunt, somehow? Used their wicked dark magics on her? “Fae don’t catch our sicknesses, Auntie.”

“Hm, that’s true.” Her aunt’s smile was shining, beatific. “Fae don’t. But this young man isn’t fae. He came in delirious overnight. I’ve given him a tincture has brought his fever down some, though not all. Come, love. It’s rude to threaten a young man without even learning his name.”

“But-... but he-...” She frowned, and took a step closer, and then another. The thing on the bed did look like a young man, that was true. He wore tattered old clothes, worn to holes where his knobby knees poked through. But for his wings and his eyes… “He’s not… fae? But the wings-”

“Mmmn, yes. I did ask about that. He says they came later.” Her aunt shrugged, as if to say, pay it no mind. “He’ll not give me a name but said I could call him Del. That’s fae for boy, that is.”

“How d’you know that?” She took a closer look at the old woman, then, and wondered how much about the woman’s life she had kept secret from the village, too.

“Just do. Isn’t important. So anyway, he clearly knows a fae, even if he isn’t one.”

“I-I’m not,” The young man spoke for the first time. His voice was low and hoarse, but sort of… lovely, too. The young woman took another step closer, slowly lowering the cookpan. “I’m not fae.”

“Are you… half-breed, then?” The young woman asked.

The boy looked away from her, and it was that more than anything that made her think he wasn’t fae at all. Everyone knew fae would never look away from you, never let a threat or a meal pass their sight. Everyone knew that.

“No,” He said, softly. “I’m not. Half-made, maybe. Are you-... her niece?” His eyes went, puzzled, from the young woman to the elderly one.

The young woman’s aunt threw her head back and laughed, shining laughter that filled the room all the way to the roof, and even the young woman felt an answering smile on her lips. “Oh, my, no, sweet boy. I’m just an old crone in the woods. Now, your tea’s just about ready, and here I am with a new guest to serve the extra to. Let’s make introductions, and you’ll stay for dinner, love,” She said, turning her eyes back to the young woman.

“But the blacksmith-”

“Will be right as rain by morning. First, though, you’ll stay for tea. My name is Llyrie, this is Del, and… Del, let me introduce this woman who would hit you with a pan if she could.” 

“She could,” The young man - Del - said. He smiled. It was faint, but there, and if it weren’t for his eyes she might have said it was a handsome smile indeed. “I wouldn’t, um, wouldn’t stop her.”

Despite herself, the young woman smiled at Del, and watched the tension in his wings relax, just a little. The kettle began to whistle as the water boiled within, and the old woman moved it to rest to the side, pouring in a generous palmful of dried herbs, leaves, and flowers to steep. Then she moved over to the bed, reaching out, and the young woman’s muscles tensed, her hand jerking forwards and then stopping itself, as she watched the old woman grip onto the not-fae’s taloned right hand as though he were perfectly normal, perfectly human. 

“You’re safe,” The old woman said, softly. “Nothing with wings has ever come to harm in my home, Del.”

The not-fae - the young man, wasn’t he, really? Just a young man, and yet all wrong and not a young man at all - nodded, slowly. “Please,” He whispered. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone.”

He sounded so… genuine. It didn’t seem like a trick at all.

The young woman did not lighten her grip on the pan.

“Del,” Her aunt said, patting the back of his hand while holding it, and his talons never touched her, “this young lady is one I have known her whole life. Come here, love, say hello.”

The young woman moved carefully, cautiously closer. She could see, now, the bright red blotches along Del’s cheeks that gave away his lingering fever, the shadows under the bright blue eyes that spoke of restless sleep or little sleep at all. This close, she could see that he was still trembling, just a little, even relaxed. 

“Hello,” She said, softly.

“Hello,” The young man said in return. “I’m-... I’m Del.”

“She said that.” He looked down, and a bit of wavy light brown hair fell over his eyes, hiding them from view. She leaned slightly forward, until he looked up again. It was… strange, to see inhuman eyes in a very human face, but if she really thought about it, they were… pretty, weren’t they? “Del, are you-... sure you’re not fae?”

“Pretty sure.” He had a hint of wry humor in his voice at that. He glanced over at one wing, then back at her. “Last anyone checked, anyway.”

She realized, all at once, that there were rings pierced through his wings in two places, just above his shoulders and again at the topmost join. Small brass rings ran through the piercing, and they clinked a little when his wings shifted. 

Who had done that? She’d never heard of fae piercing their own wings before. But if he wasn’t fae, maybe… maybe whatever he was did it. Maybe there was more than fae in the world with wings. 

“Will you… show me your teeth, Del?” She asked, voice low and quiet. Her auntie hissed at her about rudeness, but the boy obeyed immediately, baring his blunt, human teeth. She breathed out in relief at the same time her stomach twisted at the thoughtless, instant obedience. 

“Auntie, you said you… you found him sick?”

The old woman nodded, checking on the scent of the tea steeping in the kettle. “He was wandering the woods talking to no one. He’s lucky I found him first.”

“He sure is. My da and the others’d sooner shoot him than speak to him.” Del’s wings bristled, nervously, and she glanced back over at him, flushing slightly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t talk about you like you’re not right here, should I?”

“It’s all right,” He offered. “I’m used to it.”

“Still. Just ‘cause you’re used to rudeness doesn’t make it any less rude. And I haven’t told you what I’m called, either.” She held out her right hand, watched him hesitate and look down at his talons, and then she laughed and held out her left. He slowly reached his left hand - simply human, nothing else - out to shake hers. 

“I don’t know what you are,” She said, voice firm, “But you don’t seem like you’ll hurt me, and my auntie likes you. You’re Del?”

He nodded, slowly, eyes on her face in a way that made her feel strange, like her skin was stretched too tightly over her body, like her nerves were too close to the surface. “You can call me that, yes.”

“All right, I will. Nice to meet you, Del. I’m Laekna.”

---

Tagging Killan’s crew:  @astrobly​​ @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @slaintetowhump , @quirkykayleetam , @whumpallday , @whumppsychology, @doveotions, @broken-horn, @moose-teeth, @whumpfigure, @spiffythespook, @oceanthesarcasamfox,  @whump-only, @just-strawberry-jam(if you would like to be added to an OC’s tag list, please send your request via an ask! Those are easier for me to keep track of and I tend to lose requests in comments, reblogs, tags, or PMs!)

[bluesey-182]

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This - Chapter 13

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / ao3

it’s been a very long time, but at last,,, here’s an update. also, the end of this chapter gets NSFW so i will not be tagging anyone in this post, i will however continue to tag everyone that has asked to be tagged in the next chapter.

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Jude was tuning out every noise around her in statistics class. The professor, a young man barely out of university himself, looking thoroughly hungover that morning, had divided them up into small groups for some group project, though what that project was Jude had no idea. She kept trying to convince herself to pay attention but her mind was elsewhere. Absentmindedly, she tapped her pencil against the palm of her hand while her feet tapped a different beat under the desk. When she woke up that morning she had considered staying home, given what day it was and the emotions it tended to bring up, but her tenuous grade in this class had ultimately made the decision for her.

“June?” One of her classmates asked, waving his hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Are you even listening?”

She considered biting his hand but settled for swatting it out of her face. “My name is Jude.”

The idiot kept talking but movement at the door in the front of the classroom caught her eye. The door was propped open, the professor unaware given he was facedown on his desk, and standing there, looking like a cruel prince from a wicked storybook, was Cardan. His black jeans ended into his untied high top converse, his matte-black shirt with silky designs on it was unbuttoned at the top and rolled up at the sleeves, and his hair was a glorious mess. He had put on gold eyeliner that morning and Jude felt her stomach tighten pleasantly. As she stared, he finally found her sitting in the back of the room and gave her a wicked smile before indicating with a wave that she should come out into the hallway with him. She made a face that hopefully conveyed that he was an imbecile for expecting her to leave class when there was still half an hour left, and in return he made a face that dared her to do it anyway.

“Well then Jude you still didn’t answer my question,” her classmate continued, ignoring the conversation happening between her and Cardan spoken solely with their faces.

She really wanted to punch this guy. Another look at Cardan showed an amused smile as he eyed the classmate sitting next to her, a knowing look in his eyes that Jude was probably going to murder him in the next minute. 

Maybe the universe had sent Cardan to save this kid's miserable life from her ending it.

“Actually,” Jude said as she scooped her notebook and pen into her backpack, “I have to go, um,” Cardan was laughing silently to himself and it was very distracting, “go water my…. goldfish,” she finished absentmindedly before bolting towards the door. Her professor, popping a handful of ibuprofen into his mouth, didn’t seem to notice.

Once out in the hall, Cardan let the door slide closed behind them before taking her face in his hands and giving her a gentle kiss that made her heart soar. 

“Hey, you,” he said after taking the smallest step away.

“I was in class, what do you want?”

“From the looks of it, you were about to commit a felony on some poor, unexpecting dimwit. I am merely saving you from your least favorite class and, possibly, prison.”

“I can’t afford to fail this class, Cardan,” Jude said with no real heat.

“I’ll help you with the homework.” Jude glared at him, knowing how much of a pain in the ass he was when he “helped” her with her homework. “So why are you dragging me out of class?” 

Cardan’s face lit up like he had almost forgotten and then he started patting down all his pockets while mumbling to himself. Finally he pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and presented it to her like a magician would present a flower. “Because, my dear, I have a very important question for you.”

Feeling confused, Jude took the paper from his open palm and unfolded it. It was almost entirely blank except for the question “do you like me?” with two boxes to check yes or no. Jude rolled her eyes. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.” With a flourish, Cardan produced a pen from his same back pocket and blinked at her innocently. “I’m not answering.” At her words Cardan gave her a sad face that was entirely fake. With a huff, Jude snatched the pen from his hand and checked the box next to yes.

“You make me swoon, Jude,” Cardan teased.

“You really interrupted my class for this?”

“What? Oh, no, I interrupted your class because a little birdy told me,” he sidled up and smoothly pulled her into him, “that today is your birthday.”

Jude’s mood soured ever so slightly. “What little birdy?”

“Mm,” Cardan hummed as he kissed her neck. Goosebumps rose all over her body.

“Nice try,” she said, placing a hand on his chest and gently pushing him and his lips a safe distance away from her. “What little birdy, Cardan.”

He relented, “Your sister.”

“You’ve been talking to Taryn?” Instead of answering her question, Cardan gave Jude a withering look. “Oh. Right. You’re friends with Vivi. But so what if it’s my birthday? I don’t really celebrate.”

“So I was told,” Cardan said lightly as he took her hand in his and started guiding her towards the back exit of the building. “Which is exactly why I’m snatching you out of class to spend the day with me.”

“That sounds more like a birthday treat for you, not me.”

“You wound me Jude, you really do. But I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you as well.”

It was a surprisingly warm day for mid-November. They were driving with the windows down, Jude’s hand hanging out the window and lazily surfing the breeze, Cardan singing out of time with the music playing on the radio. Despite the depression Jude’s birthday tended to bring on, a wave of peace washed over her as she turned her head to look at Cardan. Instead of wearing his sunglasses to block the bright sun, he was currently using them as a headband to keep his floppy hair out of his face while he drove, though it wasn’t proving to be very effective. The wind swept his hair about and every so often a piece of it would slap him in the face.

“So where are we going?” Jude asked for the fifth time since they had gotten into the car. They had driven out of town and were now on a country road full of trees displaying the last of their leaves before winter washed the world of color. Instead of answering Jude’s question, Cardan gave her a lopsided grin in response and took her hand in his free one. 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” Cardan finally said after Jude released a long, drawn out breath.

“I hate surprises,” she mumbled. 

“It’ll be fun,” Cardan insisted.

“I hate you.”

“Liar.”

“Miscreant.”

“Bully.”

“Baby.”

“Yes, darling?” Cardan replied.

“No, I was calling you a baby,” explained Jude. The smirk Cardan tried to suppress showed that Jude had walked right into that one. 

“I do so love it when you call me pet names,” Cardan continued. “Makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. Like a pie left out in the sun.”

“You shouldn’t leave pies out in the sun, birds will eat them.”

“Well I am such a goddamn snack…” Cardan trailed off as Jude began to laugh.

“Says you.”

“Darling, have you seen this ass?”

“Alright,” Jude laughed, “if you’re a snack what does that make me?”

“A four-course meal,” Cardan said as if that were obvious. “Now, if you will direct your attention to your right you will see we have arrived at our destination. Please do not feed the animals and remember the rules of being out in nature: leave no trace and take no prisoners. Sunscreen will not be provided and if a bear attacks you’re on your own.”

Jude looked out the window as Cardan pulled into a mostly empty dirt parking lot in front of a state park. Trees obscured the view beyond the opening of the main path, some of the autumnal colored leaves still clinging to their branches. Stepping out of the car, Jude was greeted by a kind of calming quiet one never got in civilization. The air smelled cleaner than Jude thought should be possible and the shining sun chased away any chills that the season tried to bring on. Birds that hadn’t yet made their migration sang from the trees, different melodies coalescing into a symphony of sounds.

It was beautiful.

The sound of a trunk door closing turned Jude’s attention to where Cardan had just pulled a basket from the trunk of his car. He watched her with a small smile and bright eyes as she took in their surroundings.

“If you brought me out here to murder me,” Jude joked, “I must say I approve of the scenery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, clearly I brought you out here to paint you nude in nature like a faerie queen.”

“Are you saying you’ll be painting in the nude, or I’ll be nude in the painting?”

With a chuckle, Cardan tapped Jude on the tip of her nose and smiled brightly. “I like the way you think. Perhaps both. Or perhaps we’ll skip the painting entirely and just get naked. Shall we?” Cardan indicated the path with a flourish and they began walking hand in hand through the tree lined path.

“I think we should skip,” Cardan observed. “We don’t skip nearly enough as adults.”

“Skipping implies levity, and how can one be joyous when they’re drowning in college debt?”

“You really know how to ruin my fun, Jude. You can be quite cruel. And yet… I find it turns me on.”

Jude rolled her eyes. Something Cardan had said earlier had just begun to register in her mind. “Hey, what the fuck does leave no trace and take no prisoners mean?”

“What?”

“When we first got here,” Jude explained, “You said ‘leave no trace and take no prisoners.’”

“Oh, right. Leave no trace means that you should leave things how you find it, stay on the trail, yada yada yada.”

“I’m not familiar with ‘yada yada yada.’”

“Hush, my darling,” tutted Cardan before continuing with his explanation. “And ‘take no prisoners’ means that you don’t take anything out of nature. Like a pretty rock or a dead squirrel or a mushroom that has the potential to be psychedelic.” 

“Yes, those are precisely the trinkets I want as souvenirs,” Jude teased. Cardan only shrugged his shoulders and melted her heart with his smile.

“This way,” he said, gently leading her down a narrower path. After almost thirty minutes of walking they emerged into a clearing of grass overlooking a small waterfall flowing down a face of rocks and a pool of water surrounded by blue flowers. Mesmerized, Jude crept up to the bank of forget-me-nots and stared at her reflection mirrored in the pool of water. All sound seemed to be muffled in the little clearing, the perfect circle of grass separating the forest from the little pond. It felt magical and Jude stole a glance at Cardan. 

“How did you find this place?” She asked.

Instead of answering, Cardan set down the basket in his arms and pulled a checkered blanket from its depths. He placed the folded blanket over one arm like a tea towel and held his finger to his face in imitation of a mustache. “Will the lady be dining alone today?” He asked in a horrible french accent.

“Yes. Yes, she will.”

“I’m afraid I must insist on joining you.”

“Mmm. No thanks.”

Cardan laughed and it was warmer than sunlight. “Will you let me join you if I promise never to talk in that accent again?”

Jude pretended to consider this for a moment. “I suppose,” she dragged out, running her eyes along the length of his body. “You would make for rather handsome company.”

With a grin, Cardan whipped open the blanket and laid it out on the grass with a bit of theatrics, indicating with a slight bow and an extended hand that Jude should sit. After joining her on the blanket, Cardan opened the basket once again and peered inside.

“I hope you like the concept of food more than actually eating it because I forgot to actually pack any,” he said seriously. 

“Cardan!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” He held his hands up in surrender and laughed as Jude attempted to toss a nearby leaf in his face. “Let’s see what we’ve actually got in here, shall we?” And so he proceeded to produce fresh bread, soft cheeses, fancy meats, a variety of fruits, and chocolate pastries from the basket. After laying out their feast, he then pulled plastic plates, two cups, and a bottle of grape juice from the bottom of the picnic basket.

“Why grape juice?” Jude asked with a laugh.

“Because, darling, I have to drive and I know you’re not big on alcohol. But I still wanted to stick to the spirit of things, hence the grape juice instead of wine.”

“You really thought of everything.”

“Yes, well,” Cardan released a labored breath, faking humility, “I am rather thoughtful.”

Jude rolled her eyes and leaned in to catch Cardan’s mouth with her own. The kiss finally shut him up and he cradled the sides of her face in his hands, gently tugging her closer until she was nearly in his lap. He deepened the kiss, turning it from something soft to something desperate as Jude ran her hands through his hair. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down, causing him to release a shaky breath into her mouth. Cardan’s hands slid down to grip her hips and pull her into his lap so she was straddling him as they continued to kiss until they were breathless. Jude knew if she didn’t stop now, they really would both end up naked like Cardan had claimed. Reluctantly, she drew back to look at him. His eyes, already nearly black to begin with, seemed even darker. She felt something pull deep in her abdomen at the sight of him. Maybe…? No, she resolved, not in public. Giving him one last kiss, Jude withdrew back to her spot on the blanket, Cardan’s hand reaching out to her with a look of desperation on his face. Lord help her, he was giving her those puppy dog eyes. 

With a laugh, she playfully swatted his hand away and said, “Later.”

As if to prove her point, the sounds of a family walking nearby with their giggling kids and barking dog drifted into their little nook.

Cardan sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Wouldn’t want to shock that poor family by ravaging each other right here in this very romantic alcove.”

After they finished eating, they ended up taking off their shoes and rolling up their pant legs to dangle their feet in the water. A frog croaked somewhere along the banks and birds flew to the water before darting away again. Beside her, Cardan laid back in the grass with his eyes closed.

“How did you even find this place?” Jude asked again softly.

Cardan opened his eyes and fixed them on Jude. “Sometimes I need to get away.”

“So you run to the woods?” Jude teased.

“Yes, obviously,” Cardan huffed as he sat up and nudged her with his shoulder. “Haven’t you ever wanted to become a forest cryptid after running away from society?”

Jude laughed. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“You should try it sometime. Wailing in the woods is very cathartic.”

By the time they left the park, the sun was beginning to set. They had accidentally fallen asleep while staring up at the clouds and only woke up when Jude began drooling on Cardan’s stomach and he had woken up with a small shriek thinking there was a spider crawling on him. 

The car ride was pleasantly quiet, Jude’s head blissfully free of worries, Cardan’s thumb tracing circles along the back of her hand on the console between them. Jude had to admit it was a good birthday.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cardan broke the silence. “Why don’t you celebrate your birthday?” The question was hesitant, leaving Jude the space to ignore it should she not want to share this little tidbit of her life. But after everything she’d already shared with Cardan, it seemed silly to hide this. Honestly, it was something she’d bottled up for so many years that she found the prospect of sharing it to be like lifting a weight off her chest.

“It makes me sad,” she replied barely above a whisper. “I miss my parents. Madoc always did something for our birthday but it wasn’t the same, you know? I miss the way my mom would squeeze us in her arms after we blew out the candles, and how my dad would try to take a picture but end up blinding us or himself with the flash. My mom loved those prank candles that would keep relighting after you blew them out and Taryn would shriek and I’d laugh and my dad would say I was going to be an arsonist if I didn’t get my fascination with fire under control.”

Cardan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “They sound wonderful,” he said very quietly.

“They were.” Jude wiped a stray tear off her face and stared out the window as they lapsed back into silence.

From her back pocket, Jude’s phone started screaming it's ringtone at her, making her jump hard enough to bash her elbow into the car door. “Sonofabi--,” she exclaimed as she dug the phone from her jeans and answered it right before it went to voicemail. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Vivi’s frantic voice filtered through the phone.

“What? Why, what’s going on?” Panic was starting to build in Jude’s chest and she saw her same fear reflected in Cardan’s gaze as he looked to her for what she needed from him.

“It’s your birthday!” Vivi said, like this explained everything. The worry in Jude’s chest dissolved into irritation.

“So?” 

“So?!” Vivi repeated. “So Taryn and I are already at Madoc’s for your birthday dinner and you’re nowhere to be found.”

“Oh fuck. Fuck! I totally forgot!” 

“Obviously! Look, I’ll try to stall until you get here. Taryn brought Locke so you might as well bring Cardan too. Get here as fast as you can, dumbass.” With that, Vivi hung up.

Jude turned to Cardan, where he was looking at her expectantly.  “We have to go to my dad’s.”

They barely made it through the front door before Vivi was upon them like a hyena. “Thank god you’re here, Madoc is starting to throw a fit.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Madoc stepped into the foyer and gave Jude a withering look. “Why aren’t you dressed?” He barked.

Jude was fairly certain her clothes hadn’t fallen off, leaving her standing in the doorway naked, but she still looked down at herself in assessment. She was very clearly dressed. 

“Never mind, some of your old dresses are still in your room, you must get changed before the guests arrive.” He took in Cardan’s attire and made a face like he had just drank spoiled milk. “I suppose you’ll do.”

Jude was feeling a little lost. “Guests?”

“Yes, Jude, guests. This is, afterall, a birthday party. I don’t want you embarrassing me in front of all our family friends and associates, so I suggest you go change out of that ratty sweater before everyone arrives.” Without waiting for a reply, Madoc left the room in the same storm he had entered it with.

“Guests?” Jude asked again, this time directing her attention at Vivi.

Vivi shrugged. “Oh you know dear old dad, he’ll turn everything into a business affair given half the chance. Now go get dressed so I don’t have to bury you on your birthday.”

Jude's childhood bedroom was sparse. Most of her things had been moved to her apartment after leaving Madoc’s, but there were a few things left behind: a bed, a handful of stuffed animals, an old dresser that was long but low with an attached mirror, and a bookcase with children's books still lining it's shelves. It was this last one that Cardan drifted to as Jude shut the door behind her. She drifted to her closet and the few dresses that remained there.

"Alice in Wonderland?" He said, taking a collectors edition off the top shelf. "This was my favorite book as a kid."

"You can have it," Jude said as she walked out of the closet in her chosen dress for the night and leaned against the nightstand after zipping the back up the rest of the way. Cardan raised his eyebrows at her over his shoulder and set the book down on the bed.

"It's your birthday," he purred, coming up to her and running his hands along her hips before shifting them so they were pressed squarely against his. He easily lifted her up and set her down on the dresser for him to settle between her knees. Jude felt her breath catch. "I'm supposed to be the one giving you a gift." 

"Is the gift sex?" Jude breathed as Cardan ran his lips along her throat. 

He chuckled against her collarbone, and lord help her, she felt hot all over. 

"No," he said, his voice low and undeniably sexy. "But the option's always on the table."

He continued to leave a trail of hot kisses along her skin as her almost feverish body continued to get hotter. Cardan was driving her crazy, and if the smile he pressed into her pulse point was any indication, he knew it to.

"God, this dress, Jude…"

"What? Don't like it?" She managed, looking down at the midnight blue fabric that hugged her curves nicely before pooling loosely just above her knees.

"I like you in it, that's for sure. But I'd also like you without it right about now." Cardan's fingers were gently running up the sides of her thighs. 

"Then take it off," she whispered in his ear.

His fingers came to the hem of her underwear and she shimmied out of them as he gently tugged them down. Then his hands were right where she wanted them, teasing her, exploring her, all while he continued to kiss every available inch of her skin. She gasped and, without fully meaning too, dug her nails into Cardan's shoulder as he inserted a finger. He was going too damn slow. She wanted more more more more.

"Cardan," she moaned. He smiled against her skin once more and added another finger. "Fuck, Cardan."

His strokes were reverent, like he was worshipping her. With his free hand he slid the strap of her dress off her right shoulder. Then her left. Her dress pooled around her waist on the dresser and his mouth found her breasts.

More more more more.

"This is all I've been able to think about since we kissed earlier," he said against her mouth.

"Yeah?" 

"Jude…"

She kissed him, the kiss getting more and more desperate as his fingers continued to stroke her. His rhythm was slowly dissolving as his own desire drove him just as crazy. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and she wanted him bad.

"Do you have a condom?" She asked around her panting.

"Would you hate me if I said I've been carrying one since the first time we had sex?" 

Jude's laugh was low and sultry. "No, I wouldn't hate you. If anything I'd say thank god."

His fingers found a particularly sensitive spot and she bit her lip to contain the last half of a yelp that tore through her. She could feel her hips rocking against him even though she wasn't consciously doing it. When she looked down, she could see cardan hard and straining against his tight jeans.

"Get the condom," she pleaded.

Much to her disappointment, Cardan withdrew the hand inside her to remove his wallet from his back pocket in order withdraw a condom and shuck off his pants. His mouth found hers in a desperate series of kisses as he slid the condom on and then his hands were on her again and oh she was losing her mind. 

"Cardan?"

"Hmm?"

"The bed."

He backed up and sat down on the edge of the bed. Jude hopped off the dresser, her dress falling the rest of the way off her body to collect in a pool at her feet. Steadily, she walked over to Cardan, aware of his gaze taking in every inch of her exposed skin. His eyes seemed to gleam.

"God you're so fucking beautiful," he said. 

Jude settled into his lap. He was looking up at her in a way that made her stomach tumble even more as he leaned back and braced himself with a hand against the mattress behind him. His other hand cradled Jude against his body. And then, finally, he slid into her.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered as Jude began rocking her hips. His hands grabbed hold of her waist, he buried his head against her chest, and his breath came in short, hot gasps as Jude rode him. 

When he began to move his hips beneath her, Jude let out a cry of pleasure, which drew a chuckle out of cardan.

"As much as I love to hear your moans, you might want to try to be quiet, darling," he purred in that way that made Jude want to do very unholy things to him. 

Her mind was struggling for words as she shoved at his chest to push his back against the mattress. Finally, she managed, "Fuck you, Greenbriar."

"I think you already are."

"Then fuck me."

With a laugh he bucked his hips and she threw her head back in pleasure, Cardan's fingers trailing her exposed throat before sliding into her hair. His free hand had a firm hold on her hips as he rocked his and oh my god she was nearing the edge of a cliff. His teeth grazed her collarbone before finding her nipple, his hand slid in the small space between them and began running circles on her and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…

Jude fell off that cliff with a cry as Cardan fell with her.

Trying to catch her breath, Jude collapsed on top of Cardan. Beneath her cheek his chest rose and fell as fast as hers, his heartbeat going a mile a minute. Jude didn't mind the sweat sticking to his skin, or how her own sweaty skin made their stomachs stick together. She just laid with her head on his chest, legs still around his hips, and closed her eyes as his fingers stroked her back, her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. Jude decided she could live in this moment forever. Being held by Cardan after being loved by him, slowly beginning to doze off as she breathed in the scent of his skin, enveloped in the warmth of it.

"Jude," he said gently.

"Hmm?"

"We should probably make ourselves decent and go back downstairs before someone comes looking for us." This elicited a groan of a different variety than moments before from Jude. Cardan gave a soft laugh and pressed his lips against her sweaty forehead. 

"Come on, Jude. I'd rather not get caught having sex with you by your dad."

"But you're not having sex with me anymore," she teased. This made Cardan smile wickedly. Before she could think about the wisdom behind her own taunt, Cardan had them flipped over so he was on top of her. 

"You're right, my sweet villain," he purred, "but I can still drive you crazy." His fingers grazed down her stomach, millimeters away from where she was once again hot all over, before he pulled away from her and started pulling on his pants.

"I really fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?" Jude said.

With a laugh, Cardan buckled his pants and leaned over the bed so he was propped over Jude again. "Come on," he said, helping her sit up. "We can pick up where we left off once we get back to your apartment." 

That didn't seem soon enough. But Cardan was handing her her dress and she grumpily slipped it on. After both using the bathroom attached to her room, she led the way to her bedroom door and was about to pull it open when Cardan's hand stopped her. Gently, so gently, he spun her around and pressed her back against the door. He kissed her, once, and then he was pulling open the door, his fingers interlocking with hers, and they were going back downstairs.

The party passed in a blur. The guests were there more for Madoc than for Jude and Taryn and the twins seemed to orbit on different axises. Jude saw Taryn in passing but never stopped to talk, and Vivi tried to split her time between the two of them while making sure they both knew how much it irritated her. Throughout the night, Cardan stole kisses in secluded places. The empty kitchen, a corner in the hallway, behind a potted plant by the tables overflowing with food. On the back patio with the stars shining down on them. Jude cherished every kiss, every touch, and felt herself fall a little more each time.

“Happy birthday, Jude,” Cardan whispered against her skin as he settled an opal necklace around her throat.

[stark-tony]

I'd love hp recs if you're willing!

 * = incomplete

boy with a scar series* by dirgewithoutmusic  

summary:  A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

pairings: romione, hinny, wolfstar, bleur, jily

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

warnings:

we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within series by dirgewithoutmusic

summary:  stories for the ladies of hogwarts, who cry, waver, giggle, trespass, and who deserve our respect all the same

pairings:

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

the dogfather au by hollimichele

summary:  “I’m not a reverse werewolf either,” says the man. “I’m your godfather.”

pairings: wolfstar

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

The Changeling + Armistice Series*  by Annerb

summary:  Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

pairings: hinny

tags: angst, drama

warnings: rape

tell me whether he is dead by LullabyKnell

summary: Post-DH AU: Harry suffers a few side-effects of dying but not dying.

“Hey, can someone help me with this? The mirror in the bedroom’s stopped working for me."

“What do you mean ‘the mirror’s stopped working’?”

pairings: hermione/harry/ron

tags: fluff, angst, humor

warnings: none

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux

summary: What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?

A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.

Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

pairings: wolfstar

tags: crack

warnings: none

who discovered your secret by LullabyKnell

summary: Pre-Canon AU: On the street named Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey, a man lived alone at Number Eight, supposedly.

It was apparently difficult to tell.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

Little Lion Boy by ShanaStoryteller

summary: Draco is sorted into Gryffindor.

It's all part of the plan, really.

parings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

a witch in the family by LullabyKnell

summary: - "For the 5+ Headcanon game, what do you think of an AU in which Petunia is a witch?"

Pre-Canon AU: Petunia Evans learns important life lessons from the magical world that every proper witch ought to know.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

when in doubt, go to the library by LullabyKnell

summary:  The Hogwarts Library saves the Wizarding World through the power of reading. 

pairings: none

tags: humor, crack

warnings: none

these long cold days by dirgewithoutmusic

summary: In the war, Dean holed up in hollows and friendly attics and Muggle pubs. He drew Umbridge the Toad, noseless Voldy confused by the last dozen plus years of wizardly pop culture, the Ministry of Magic with its fingers stuffed in its stuffy ears.

He drew Snape as Headmaster, his sneer easy after seven years of notebook margin practice. Dean drew the Dark Mark over London’s skyline and he left his work nailed up around Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric’s Hollow. He signed his name. He had things he wanted to say.

There were long days when he didn’t talk to anyone– walking old fields and long roads, sleeping in haystacks. There were long weeks when he only talked to strangers– passersby, shop owners, sympathizers, snatchers who he traded curses with.

He drew the Gryffindor Common Room, hearths all ablaze. He listened to Lee Jordan’s radio show on the crackling airwaves. He drew his little sisters, who had gone to France with his mother and father. He drew faces from the darkened boys’ dormitory– Harry’s long bangs hiding his scar, Neville practicing his dance moves for the Yule Ball, Ron asleep with his head on his thick Weasley sweater, Seamus grinning at him over a three a.m. game of cards.

pairings: deamus

tags: angst

warnings: kidnapping

Rise by Kyra_Neko_Rei

summary: When Voldemort came to kill Harry, Lily met him with a SIG Sauer pistol she bought at a pawn shop. Seems Dark Lords die as easily as anyone else when you empty two clips into them.

Hailed as the savior of the Wizarding world, Lily has a live baby, a dead husband, the personal enmity of most of the Dark Lord's followers, and not the slightest idea how to put her life back together.

Phoenixes have it easy. Burn, die, rise from the ashes.

For humans it's a bit different. Sort of.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: character death

look to your kingdoms by Vail

summary:  When she visits Diagon Alley, Hermione hates that the first thing the shop clerk in the apothecary tries to sell her is a potion to “tame her hair.” She likes her hair the way it is, curls and frizz, heavy around her shoulders. She thought the wizarding world would be different. (Black Hermione character study.)

pairings: none 

tags: drama

warnings: racism

The Chamber Strike by BlainelovesKurt, evansentranced  

summary:  Harry is sick of Umbridge and everyone pushing him around. Halfway through fifth year, he decides to Do Something about it. Warning: Contains nuts. And cults, falling sugar bowls, terrible handwriting, and beleaguered caretakers. Crack!fic. Written with transfiguredbunny over Thanksgiving of 2006 after we ate ALL the turkey.

pairings: none

tags: crack

warnings: none

Dudley Dursley's Most Unexpectedly Fortunate Flower by aTasteofCaramell

summary: Dudley Dursley is leading a perfectly normal life, his contact with his odd cousin limited to Christmas cards and peculiar memories.

Until his daughter sneezes and sets the curtains on fire.

pairings: dudley/ original female character, hinny

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

repeated a thousand times in golden ink by LullabyKnell

summary: Half-Blood Prince AU: In which Luna makes a friend through desk art and Ginny helps.

Shameless, essentially plotless friendship fluff.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The Splendid Gallery by LullabyKnell

summary: Pre-POA AU: In the summer of 1993, the Grangers vacation in France and meet the Delacours. When the Granger-Delacour parents elect to explore Wizarding France as a group, Hermione Granger is thrown together with a girl named Fleur Delacour due to some bizarre idea that they will somehow magically become friends. Even though they have nothing whatsoever in common and Hermione doesn't like Fleur at all!

In which two of the brightest witches of their age become very good friends.

pairings: fleur/ hermione

tags: fluff

warnings: none

riding up the wrong path by ashen_key

summary: When Lily is eighteen, she cuts her hair and joins the army. The British Army.The British Muggle Army.

Despite what the gossip papers say, she leaves her wand at home. She's not a complete idiot.

– –

Oh, right.

Maybe take a few steps back.

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

there will come a time, you'll see by aloneintherain

summary: They have Shepard’s pie for dinner. Ron and Hermione watch Harry fill up his plate and only start serving themselves when he picks up his fork and starts eating. Neville laughs into his wine glass. 

“How are you dealing with their mothering, Harry?” he asks.

Ron opens and closes his mouth for a minute, groping for an excuse. Eventually, Ron says, “He’s just so small, Nev.”

“Hey,” Harry says. “I’m seventeen. I’m an adult.”

Ron shakes his head at Neville. “My best friend is an infant.”

A curse regresses Harry to his seventeen year old self, physically and mentally. He doesn’t recognise this strange peaceful wizarding world, but there are two people he does recognise: Ron and Hermione.

 Based off this tumblr post.

pairings: romione

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

call it a badge of honor by dirgewithoutmusic

summary:  In those halls, they faced down Death Eaters under the guise of teaching robes. They faced them with raised wands, raised fists, or just raised chins, these children who kept telling stories in the dark about Harry Potter, who was going to save them.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger)

summary: “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”

“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.

Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

pairings: hinny

tags: fluff, humor, angst

warnings:

THERMOS!, or, How a Muggle-Born Brought a New Age of Spell-Making to Hogwarts (Entirely by Accident) by susieboo

summary: Muggle-born witch Phoebe McDevitt just wanted her tea to stay warm during class. She didn't expect to accidentally start a spell-making craze among her classmates.

[Oneshot. Next generation. Based off a Tumblr post, which I will link to in the notes.] 

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

and ready to suffer and ready to hope by irnan (locked to ao3 users)

summary:  or, the one where petunia evans is a witch.

pairings: jily, hinny

tags: angst

warnings: character death

a very nice thing to say by LullabyKnell

summary:  Chamber of Secrets AU: Harry and Ron miss the train to Hogwarts. Luckily for them, they're not the only ones. Harry's not sure what's going on, what they're going to do, or who these people are exactly, but Ron seems to know these Lovegood people and it's not like there's anyone else to help them get to Hogwarts. 

tags: fluff, humor, 

pairings: none

warnings: none

yesterday we were just children playing soliders by girlmadeofstars

summary: What if, when Harry heard the Slytherin portion of the Hat's song, he payed attention when the Hat sung perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends? Imagine this: a little boy- beaten, and ignored, for his entire life. A little boy- friendless, and lonely. A little boy- desperate for the kind of friendship he had read about in books, seen on the television screen.

When the Hat offered him Slytherin, imagine that Harry said yes.

pairings: hinny, romione, astoria/ draco

tags: 

warnings:

The Transfiguration Incident, Or Pettigrew's Problems by Kyra_Neko_Rei

summary:  The lesson is transfiguring rats into teacups . . . only Ron Weasley's rat is actually an Animagus, which has dire consequences for the spell, for Peter Pettigrew, and for the Dark Lord's prospects for resurrection (and rather better consequences for Minerva McGonagall's reputation). Cross-posted (finally!) from Tumblr.

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

In the Name of the Brave* by LullabyKnell

summary: “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” 

“Oh, that’s Professor Black.”

- A slow-paced, self-indulgent, canon rewrite Philosopher's Stone AU.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none 

Take Two* by Bundibird

summary: Never let it be said that a Slytherin doesn’t know to take hold of an opportunity when it’s presented to him on a silver platter.

[A Fourth Year AU in which Draco makes the most of Potter and Weasley’s fight and takes a second shot at befriending Harry. For the Greater Evil, obviously.]

Cross-posted at ff.n

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: 

Percy Weasley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by LullabyKnell

summary:  Pre-Philosopher's Stone AU: In which fourteen-year-old Percy Weasley is very stressed, does not get enough sleep, and accidentally and unknowingly saves the Wizarding World because of bad aim.

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

beautiful enough for the both of us by dirgewithoutmusic

summary: “You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out.

--

Werewolf!Lavender, post-canon

pairings: lavender/ parvati

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 2: He Becomes a Trespasser

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4402

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 1: Her Morning Takes a Turn

The sun was golden against his skin, shining on the tan color he had come to acquire after so many hours out in the light. It beat down on the flesh, warming it and relaxing him. His arms were folded behind his head as he reclined on the grass. It was soft and cool on his skin; Crete always did have the best grass for lying on. His eyes were closed against the bright light, the rays illuminating his eyelids and highlighting the veins that ran through them. His chest rose and fell with even breaths. If one didn’t know any better, they’d say he was asleep.

But he wasn’t. The young god was just lounging about, listening in on the conversation that was being held not five feet away from him.

The two voices were of young men, one angry, agitated, and fidgeting, and the other slightly exasperated and amused. 

Steve, a naiad, was talking with quick, jerky gestures. He was riled up, clearly upset, but not quite enraged. His fists were balled up tightly, almost as if he wanted to punch something. “...the bastard said I couldn’t do it,” he ranted and raved. “He thinks that because I’m a water spirit, I can’t get jewels like that.”

Sam, a dryad, was watching his friend skeptically. He tended to be the more level-headed of the three, always the mediator to calm Steve’s need to prove himself and Bucky’s somewhat erratic tendencies. He was the one to stop the two before they got themselves killed. “Steve,” he started in an attempt to reason, “it’s not worth your time. So what if you can’t get a ruby to prove him wrong? You’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“Like what?” Steve asked with scalding agitation in his voice. “Like guarding Bucky?”

The young god’s eyes opened at the sound of his nickname and he sat up to look over at the two.

“No offense Buck, but really, you can protect yourself most of the time.” Steve turned back to Sam, his gaze hardening once more. “I want to do more than just be a bodyguard.”

“Like what? Like getting a ruby to prove some stupid nereid wrong?”

“Exactly!”

Bucky’s eyes danced with amusement, catching the sunlight up above and shining. He was always finding humor in his friend’s need to prove himself. Steve has always wanted to be the bigger man, be the one who’s worthy, be the one who can be more than he is. Ever since they were little, when Steve was small and scrawny, he’d been taking on dangerous and daring exploits, fights, and anything else he could get his hands on to prove himself. And even now that Steve was an adult with body mass, muscle, and strength to rival the gods, nothing had changed.

Steve frowned as he began to plot. “Now where can I find a ruby?”

“At a mortal jewelry store, probably,” Sam quipped. “But you know we’re not allowed to go there. Winnifred would have our heads. Besides, we don’t have any money to buy them.”

Steve’s lips turned down in a pout. “Dammit.” He scrunched up his face as he thought. “There’s gotta be some other place we can find them.”

“I’ve heard they’re usually in caves,” Bucky chimed in.

“Caves…” Steve repeated when suddenly his eyes lit up. “I’ve got it!” His whole body turned to Bucky, his eyes wide, his lips parted, his body straight and ready for action. “There’s a ton of caves down under. And the queen is literally the goddess of wealth. If anyone anywhere were to have a ruby, it’d be down there. Now, Bucky…” His voice quieted and his eyebrows knitted together, silently begging Bucky to do something.

Bucky simply chuckled, knowing full well what his best friend was asking of him. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t be giving me those puppy dog eyes. You know my mom would kill me if I went down there.”

“But Hades is dangerous and you’re a god, man,” Steve moaned. “You can’t die down there, I can. Your mother will never need to know about this. C’mon, do a brother a solid?” He tilted his head to the side. “I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t do it, Buck,” Sam piped up. “Your mom will find out some way or another and we’ll all be screwed. Steve doesn’t need to get a ruby to prove himself. He’s just asking for trouble.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be hard to sneak in and grab one small ruby,” Steve whined. 

“Or it could be extremely difficult and get Bucky in trouble.”

“He’s in, he grabs a ruby, he’s out. Easy!”

“No! Not easy. He’s gonna—”

“I’ll do it.”

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?”

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll do it. I’ll run down and grab Steve a ruby.”

Both Sam and Steve were shocked. Neither of them thought the young god would actually agree to this crazy plan. But Steve just beamed at him. “You are the freaking best.”

“I know.” Bucky barked a laugh and rose to his feet, the grass wedging in between his bare toes. “But how the Hades am I going to get down there? I don’t think the Underworld is on a map and has a giant sign saying ‘Congratulations, you’ve reached the Underworld.’”

“Well duh.” Steve rolled his eyes and looked around at their surroundings.

They were in a clearing on the island of Crete. It was a quaint little place separated from the mortals and their cities. Sitting at the base of Mount Ida, the clearing was directly below the Dikteon Cave where the Olympian queen had been hidden as a baby. The whole area was coated in her magic, especially that cave, and her magic did some weird things to the rift between worlds.

Steve pointed up at the cave’s mouth. “See that up there?”

Bucky had to squint, but he could see it. “Yeah.”

“When Hades was finishing up the Underworld and securing it, she wasn’t able to close the rift between the Mortal World and the Underworld in that cave. The familiar energy from her sister was too strong and it’s been open ever since. That’s your in and out. It should deposit you right next to a cave if you’re lucky.”

“Please, I was born lucky!” Bucky brushed off his jeans and started walking towards the mountain. “I’ll be back!” he called to his friends before pushing on to find a path up to the cave.

The mortals had tried to pave paths to the cave, but none of them got very far. The residue from Queen Carol’s aura kept them far away from the cave. No mortal could get within a hundred yards of the mouth of the cave. Luckily for Bucky, he was a god.

He marched right up the side of the mountain to the mouth of the cave and stepped inside. He could feel the temperature drop about ten degrees as soon as got an inch inside and the hairs on his arms bristled. A shiver ran down his spine to the tips of his toes, setting an uneasy feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have been there. He was a god of spring and new life; he had no business being among the dead.

If his mother saw him now, she’d be furious. Winnifred, the goddess of the harvest and agriculture, may have seemed kind and gentle, but she was strict and her wrath was untamable and wild. If she were to be disobeyed, she would guarantee that those that opposed her direct orders would pay for it. 

Bucky loved his mother to death, but even he had to admit that she could be way too strict sometimes. She insisted that Bucky always dress properly and in a modest outfit, never permitting him nor his friends to dress in anything less than a pair of nice jeans and a pristine shirt. She required them to have limited access to the Mortal World, stating that they should only go if it was absolutely necessary. She didn’t like them frolicking among the mortals because they were Olympians, and above the humans. 

She didn’t have many rules, but she did have one that was absolute: never have any contact with the Underworld or the dead. They were too dangerous for a young god like him.

Bucky couldn’t believe that he was breaking his mother’s most important rule, but at the same time, he was exhilarated. He’d never dared to do something so bold and it was showing. His palms were sweating despite the freezing chill in the air and his heart was racing fast in his chest. He was nervous. He shouldn’t have been there, but it was too late to go back now.

He pushed on, going deeper and deeper into the cave. The air changed around him, growing cold and unforgiving. It was dark and empty and lifeless. He was not in the Mortal World anymore. Bucky took a breath and took a final step, coming out of the cave and entering a chasm.

His breath got stuck in his throat.

He’d heard stories of the Underworld before, he’d heard descriptions of it, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what it actually was. 

It was magnificent, regal, and impressive. With towering mountains in the distance on which a large mansion stood on top of, expansive fields of flowers, and hundreds of thousands of people milling about, Bucky was in awe. He couldn’t believe how organized and calm the realm was; he’d always thought that the Underworld would be savage and ugly, but here it was calm and silent.

He could’ve stood there for hours staring at everything around him and taking it all in, but he was on a mission. He had to find the ruby. 

He put his head on a swivel, looking from side to side as he searched for a cave. Rubies formed in caves; they had to be there. It wasn’t long before his eyes landed on a single cave carved into the side of a wall, a single river flowing into the mouth of it. Granted, that river was made of fire, but Bucky didn’t think anything of it. He assumed that most rivers in the Underworld had some quirk about them and that this one was that it was on fire.

He slid along the side of the Underworld, getting closer and closer to the cave. He wanted to be in and out before he could be caught. He slipped into the mouth of the cave he saw and turned to face it.

The place was colder than the main part of the Underworld. His hairs were standing on end and he had a dreadful weight sitting in the pit of his stomach. Something was not right about this place. It felt bad; it felt evil.

The young god clenched up on himself, his shoulders rolling in as he attempted to shake the feelings but they refused to disappear. Yet, he pushed on.

It was dark in there, he had to give his eyes some time to adjust to the absence of light. When he could finally see again, he scanned the walls of the cave, his eyes peeled for anything shiny and red. It couldn’t be too hard to find a red jewel, right? 

Wrong. 

Upon further inspection, he noticed that there didn’t seem to be a single sparkly object in this godforsaken cave. Every rock was bleak and dull, only clothed in greys and blacks. There was absolutely no color in the cave. Bucky was starting to wonder if he’d ever find a ruby here. Maybe they just weren’t in this cave. Maybe he was in the wrong place. But he didn’t have much time to ponder that. The sinking feeling in his gut was growing heavier and heavier with every step he took in. He shouldn’t have been there. There was something massively wrong with that place. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

But it put its finger on him.

Bucky jumped when he felt something thin, hard, and bumpy touch his skin and latch onto his ankle. A scream tore out of his throat as he snapped his head down and kicked wildly.

A hand, skeletal and white, had grabbed him and was holding on for dear life. It didn’t want to let him go and it pulled him closer to the body that was attached to it.

Bucky had been too preoccupied with searching the walls to notice the mass of bodies that were starting to pile up around him. There were dozens, maybe more, of skeletons and spirits crawling their way to him. They almost seemed drawn to the life that oozed from him. And, surely, as soon as they touched him, he could feel them trying to steal the life from him. He felt listless and drained when they touched him, and he could tell that they were nothing but evil.

How had he gotten so far in without noticing? Was he that much of a fool?

Apparently so.

The spirits around him collected around his feet and reached up, clawing onto his pants and dragging him down.

He struggled in their grasps, doing his best to fight them off, but every time he shook one off, two more would take its place. They were slowly overpowering him, pulling him closer to the ground where more of them could absorb the life from him. He could feel the toll they were taking on him, and he hated himself for feeling so weak. He’d never been so powerless before, and it scared him. For the first time in his relatively young life, he was truly afraid. 

With his mother around, he’d never had anything to fear. But his mother wasn’t here now and he was alone. And this was the end.

The spirits dragged him down to the cave’s floor and swarmed him, clamoring on top of him to maximize their hold.

“I don’t want to die” was the only thought running through his head, but Bucky simply closed his eyes, too afraid to do anything else, so he could wait it out. It’d be over sooner or later, and he was too tired to do anything to stop them. His energy had been drained. Maybe a nap would be nice and when he’d wake up, this would be all over. Yes… A nap sounded delight—

“Hey!” an angry and powerful voice boomed, the sound filling the cave and drowning out everything else.

The hands-on his body stopped dead in their tracks. It shouldn’t have been possible, but now Bucky felt their fear instead of his own.

“Get your hands off of him!” the woman yelled again, her voice filled with more power than Bucky could’ve ever imagined hearing. 

The spirits obeyed, at once letting go and scurrying away from something—or someone—behind him.

Footsteps slammed against the rock beneath them, growing louder and louder as the mystery woman marched to Bucky. A hand latched onto the collar of Bucky’s shirt and yanked him back away from the spirits. A two-pronged bident took his place, swinging at the spirits menacingly and driving them away. It glowed the faintest blue in the darkness, illuminating the faces of the damned.

The ghosts and skeletons shied away, curling up on themselves and scrambling to get away as they hissed. They were obviously afraid of the person it belonged to.

Said person tightened their grip on Bucky and began to drag him out of the cave, the bident staying in front of him as they aimed to protect him. 

Bucky tried to turn his head back to see his savior, but he couldn’t turn his head very far without being stopped by the hand on the back of his neck. 

She pulled him out of the cave, past the river of fire, and threw him on the dead grass outside. 

He landed flat on his ass with a satisfying “oof”. His hands shot back to catch him before he could fall on his back and he looked down at his body.

His once white shirt was now a dark shade of grey and torn and his jeans were torn nearly to shreds. There were scratches, scrapes, and bruises covering his legs. Little rivers of ichor ran down from the cuts, coating his skin with gold. He looked like a war-torn battlefield. His mother was going to kill him. If those spirits hadn’t finished the job, she sure would. He was dead meat. Steve and Sam better start planning his funer—

“Just what in the Hades were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” the same voice from the cave demanded, only this time, she seemed more pissed than powerful. Her voice had lost the booming effect it had previously, but it was still sharp enough to send shivers down his spine.

Slowly Bucky lifted his eyes. The first thing he saw was a pair of black flats below black pleated pants. Looking further up he saw a black blazer covering a dark grey shirt, and further up still, he saw the face of a woman. She was quite beautiful in the way that something cold and hard like a statue was beautiful. He would’ve admired her features but he was too afraid of, and yet so enchanted by, her eyes. Her eyes, unlike most, weren’t a brown, blue, or green; no, they were red—a bright and fiery shade of scarlet that seemed to glow in the darkness of the Underworld. They held him trapped, hypnotized by the brilliant color.

He felt so small beneath her gaze, even though he was comparatively larger than she was. 

She radiated power as she glowered down at him, the bident by her side making her even more intimidating. Her lips curled back in a snarl. “I asked you a question; answer me!”

Bucky flinched and started to stammer out, “I-I...”

She seemed exasperated by his loss of words and bent down to him.

He shied away, afraid that she was going to attack him, but she simply grabbed onto his wrist and pulled. Her skin was shockingly cold against his flesh and he inhaled sharply.

She dragged him to his feet and began to pull him after her as she walked away from the cave. She was beyond angry and that made her scary. The only saving grace was that her bident had seemingly melted into thin air, probably stored in some magical pocket somewhere. She was trembling with rage as she began to rant and rave, her grip never once loosening. “Of all the idiocy I have seen in my life, I have never seen someone as stupid as you. What kind of imbecile walks into the pit willingly? Do you have a death wish? Gods, it is not my fucking job to save daredevils from the edge of the pit.” 

Bucky only stared at her, filled with confusion. His mind was racing a million miles an hour and he asked, “The pit?”

“Tartarus, you insolent fool!” she snapped, quickening her pace as she pulled him towards the place he’d come in. How she knew about the exit, Bucky didn’t know, but she continued speaking, “The prison of the worst souls known to man, the titans, and any monster you could dream of. How could you possibly—” She froze in her steps as if it suddenly dawned on her that she didn’t know who Bucky was. Rigidly, she looked over her shoulder, her red eyes glaring at him. “Who are you?” 

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you!”

Bucky blanked. Who was he again? He could barely remember under her intense gaze. “I’m, uh… I’m Bu— James. I’m James, god of spring, son of—”

“Demeter,” she spat out, her voice dripping heavily with venom and contempt. “Great. Just fucking great. You’re a new god. And not just a new god, the fucking son of Demeter.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in between her thumb and forefinger and heaved a great sigh.

He stared at her, even more confused than before. “H-Her name is Winnifred,” he stuttered out, his voice cracking.

She rolled her eyes. “Same fucking difference. It’s the same woman.”

“Well, yes, I suppose. But wait! You know my mother?”

"Of course I know your goddamn mother. She hates my guts and I'm not too fond of her either.” The woman squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall back with an even louder groan. “Gods, she's probably going to think I kidnapped you or something! Do you realize what you being down here means?" 

“I—”

“Of course you don’t! How could you? You’re just some young, stupid, idiotic god who thinks he can go anywhere he pleases. Well, news flash, you’re not allowed to roam my domain without my permission. This is not a place for the living, and you’re lucky you escaped with only minor wounds.”

“Your domain?” Bucky furrowed his brows, his steps faltering. “Wait… Then, you’re—”

“Hades,” she confirmed. “But that’s just what the mortals call me. You need not know my name, you only need know that you have to leave. You were never supposed to be here in the first place and you will never get in again.” She dragged him towards the cave he’d entered the Underworld through and yanked him in.

Crossing the threshold, he could feel the immediate change in the air. He could feel life surging back to him as they entered the Mortal World. He could also feel Hades stumble as if the sudden rush of life was startling to her.

She pulled him through the Dikteon Cave and out into the sun at the mouth of the cave. “Where did you come from?” she demanded, her voice low and cold as her hands.

Bucky pointed down towards the clearing where he could just barely make out the figures of Sam and Steve.

She let go of his wrist and grabbed his upper arm instead. “Hold on.”

He didn’t get a chance to ask her what she meant, because she leaped up into the air and off the side of the mountain, pulling him with her. The wind whistled past his ears as they fell, and he had to trap the scream that was rising in his throat.

They landed on the edge of the clearing, the ground trembling beneath them. She released Bucky, throwing him forward a bit before straightening up and glaring at Steve and Sam who had started running over.

With her shoulders rolled back and her body completely in the light, Bucky could now observe her fully. The red had faded from her eyes, revealing a wonderful shade of (e/c) that had red-rimmed around the iris. Her skin was devoid of life and she had deep, dark circles covering the skin beneath her eyes. Bucky hated to admit it, but she almost looked dead. She was unsettling but in a gorgeous, powerful kind of way.

Steve ran over to Bucky’s side, his face panicked. “Buck,” he breathed out, “are you alright? What happened?”

“He went where he had no business going,” Hades answered, her voice agitated and disgruntled. “You two are his watchers, no?”

“U-Um, yes, Ma’am?” Steve responded, thoroughly anxious.

“Then fucking watch him,” she snapped, her voice suddenly growing in volume. “The Underworld is no place for fledgling gods who have no experience in the real world.”

Sam turned to Bucky, his eyes wide with alarm. He probably wanted to say something in their defense, but the only thing he asked was, “Did you get the ruby?”

Bucky could’ve smacked him.

Hades glowered at Sam. “What ruby? Explain yourselves.”

Bucky gulped. “It’s the reason I went down. My friend wanted a ruby and I thought I could find one in the Underworld and I…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, realizing how stupid it was under her incredulous look.

“You mean to tell me you went to fucking Tartarus for a ruby? A single ruby that’s worth hardly anything to a god?”

“...Yes.”

She barked a bitter laugh, doubling over and placing her hands on her knees to steady herself. “I can’t believe this.” She held out her fingers, maintaining a small gap in between her thumb and forefinger, and a single, raw ruby, red as blood and the size of a large pebble, formed out of thin air. “Here. Take your damn ruby.” She chucked it at the ground at Bucky’s feet before narrowing her eyes at him. “You got what you came for, and now you have no reason to return. If I ever, and I mean ever, catch you in my realm again, I will teach you why the mortals call it Hell.” She spared the men one last snarl before taking a step away from them, digging something out of her pocket, and dropping the minuscule item on the ground.

At once, the ground trembled and shook and a hole opened up at her feet. The ground swallowed her, pulling her into the depths before closing up again like nothing ever happened. In her place stood a single flower with an elongated stem and a spike of white blossoms: an Asphodel.

Bucky’s gaze switched between the flower and the ruby until it finally settled on the jewel. Slowly he reached for the ruby and picked it up to examine it. It was heavy in his hand, beautiful and clear. It filtered the light that passed through it and cast odd shapes that mimicked its raw cut in red on his palm. But it wasn’t the ruby itself that mesmerized him, it was the color; the same color of her eyes. Bucky was certain that that shade of red would be burned into his memory for all eternity, and as he stood there with Sam and Steve fawning over him making sure he was okay and talking about getting him cleaned off and changed into new clothes because he “reeked of death”, he couldn’t help but think of her: Hades, the woman whose name he did not fully know, but whose face had suddenly washed over his mind and infiltrated every nook and cranny of his thoughts. His grip tightened over the ruby and he smiled to himself softly.

Next 3: Her Head Aches

[umbry-fic]

A Palette Full of You (2)

Summary: Glimpses into Colette and Lloyd's lives as they grow up together, learn who they are, and fall in love with each other.

(Written for Colloyd Week 2021)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Chapter: 2 of 6 Word Count: 4212 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 10/06/2021

Chapter Title: Save the Children!

Chapter Summary: Lloyd and Colette take a break from studying and decide to play a video game. Colette starts to ruminate a little on how she's different from the rest of her classmates...

(Colloyd Week Day 2: Sidequest)

Notes+Warnings: Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter Colloyd week fic! Colette and Lloyd play a bunch of Kameo: Elements of Power. Lloyd is bisexual. This chapter might have a bit of internalised acephobia so beware.

Chapter list Full fic Previous chapter Next chapter

~~~

12-years-old

"There! Over there!" Colette shouted, dropping the Xbox controller onto her lap and gesturing frantically towards a corner of the television screen. In her frantic excitement, she completely forgot that Lloyd was sitting right next to her on the sofa, her elbow banging straight into Lloyd's arm.

Lloyd, startled, pitched to the side and pushed the joystick on his Xbox controller in the same direction.

Major Ruin, who Lloyd had been controlling to charge up a Bolder Rush, executed the move at this exact moment as Lloyd let go of the right trigger.

And so Major Ruin careened right off the edge of the platform, as per the directions Lloyd had just inputted into the game. The tragic end to a glorious adventure. Kameo would never rescue her father from her sister’s evil clutches, for she had fallen to her death from a high height... by complete accident. Or maybe it would be better to class this as incompetence?

Oops.

"Oh, no," they both muttered at the same time, staring with their mouths open in horror. Colette reached out uselessly towards the TV, as if she could reach into the game and stop Major Ruin’s fall.

As if.

The armadillo look-alike Earth elemental (except a lot spikier) continued to fall while flailing their stubby limbs uselessly, eventually hitting the ground with the familiar and resonant "thud", accompanied with the dreaded snapping sound that had populated much of their playtime in the Snow-top Village. The thin and winding ice paths throughout that area had led to many a death from fall damage as they had tried to get their hands on the elemental fruits hidden away among various corners. Now that they were in the Ancient Tower, with its dark, foreboding, narrow stone corridors lit only by the sparest of torches sitting in sconces, where there was only one path forward and they were caged in by walls, Colette thought their falling episodes would be over. It was a bit claustrophobic, really.

It appeared that was not the case. Fall damage was eternal, and it would haunt them always, following them everywhere and showing its face at the most inopportune of moments.

Major Ruin morphed back into Kameo's petite, winged form, collapsing to the ground with a pained groan. Lloyd's side of the screen faded to black before he respawned at the last checkpoint, erasing a full 20 minutes of progress. The Kameo that Colette controlled was now completely alone in the chamber, performing her idle animations as Colette’s controller went untouched. Lloyd dropped his Xbox controller into his lap as well, leaning back against the sofa as he let out a groan of his own.

There was no sound apart from the whirring coming from the Xbox under the TV, the game music, and the "whup-whup" of the blades of the ancient standing fan in the corner of the living room, struggling in its job to blow "cool" air at them and combat the viciously hot weather.

Lloyd had every right to be frustrated with her; she had a tendency to kill him in-game. It wasn't murder, just manslaughter: knocking him off the cliff, setting both of them on fire, or startling him in general. It wasn't just in Kameo. Her clumsiness and butterfingers translated to every genre. No matter the game - Mario, Minecraft, Maplestory - she always found some way to cause a game over.

But he'd never directed any frustration or anger towards her. These are just silly games, he said every time. Much easier to laugh over the mirthful consequences together than get mad. Whenever they had the time to play video games together, the air was filled with nothing but laughter, a few frustrated grumbles from when they were struggling at a particular level, and the occasional rib from Lloyd’s end when she messed up. That's what made it incredibly fun. What the two of them had termed "game-time" never failed to put a smile on their faces.

And it was an effective destresser! It was a great relief to be able to channel all the stress from studying for PSLE into beating up trolls in Kameo. That appeared to be Lloyd's favourite part of the game - racking up combos with his favourite character Pummel Weed. Though she had to say her favourite part of the game so far was watching the cutscenes that played after rescuing the baby elementals from the prisons created by the nefarious shadow trolls. The wacky transformation from adorable blob to full-fledged elemental, complete with the blob sprouting arms and growing claws or shells, was… interesting to witness.

"Sorry," she sheepishly said, still feeling the need to apologise as she patted his hand. "Didn't mean to startle you. It's just that I found the last child!"

"Oh, really? Where?” Lloyd asked eagerly, attention turning back to the TV. “I couldn't see anything. It's all so dark."

"Over there." More calmly this time, Colette pointed out the child encased in a translucent ice crystal, tucked away in a corner of the platform hidden in shadow. She’d forgotten the name of this species, and could only describe them as cuttlefish that had taken human form. What were they were doing so far from the Mountain Falls? Weren't they native to that location? "We need to free them quickly! This is the last child."

“The last - you’ve been keeping count?!” Lloyd asked, voice rising in volume and shock written clearly across his face.

“Yeah! The mother said there were three, and we’ve rescued two. She must have been really worried, or she wouldn’t have begged us to save her children. I want to reunite them as soon as possible!”

"Alright. Ice, huh? It'd be similar to the other crystals we got rid of in the snow area. So just turn into Ash!" Lloyd suggested.

"Oh, you're right! Thanks for the reminder!" Colette opened the transformation wheel with a quick press of a button and proceeded to fumble with the joystick for a full minute while Lloyd slowly crawled his way back up the tower. She kept pushing too far to the right and overshooting Ash's dragon head on the wheel to land on Thermite, before overcorrecting to the left and landing on 40 Below. Frustration slowly piled up until she groaned, burying her head in her lap. This was embarrassing. She couldn't even navigate a simple menu like this, even after months of playing this game. Butterfingers, once again.

"Lloyd, can you open the main menu? I'll just pick Ash from there."

"Nah, we don't need to open Wotnot. Let's give Ortho a break for now," Lloyd replied. She knew that wasn't the real reason. Lloyd just didn’t want to hear from the eccentric wizard trapped within the paperback book that doubled as the main menu. "Here, let me help. But you need to get up first!" She straightened up, still sulking as he smiled at her, looking like he was holding back laughter at her predicament.

Lloyd stretched out his hand and placed his index finger over her thumb, gently guiding her thumb on the joystick so that the selection square landed right on Ash's head. Colette watched as Kameo hunched over and transformed into the red, clawed, scaly dragon that was the fire elemental Ash, tail slowly swaying from side-to-side as his wings flapped.

"You're so good at this..." she muttered, glancing down at her controller where Lloyd's hand was still placed over hers. They were only 12, but his hands were already slightly bigger than hers. He'd gotten his growth spurt in the earlier part of this year and shot up in height; now half a head taller than her. It was a slightly startling change after being the same height for the six years they'd known each other. He would likely only grow taller as time went on. As for herself... Maybe she'd gain another 5 centimetres by the time she was 18, if she was lucky. Given the actual state of her luck, she'd probably stagnate at her current height. Tallness was just not in the cards for her.

Not that she minded. The added height made him rather comfortable to lie on. If he gained just a few more centimetres, his shoulder would be the perfect height to rest her head on… That would make movie nights all the more comfortable.

Plus, the height change was just that. A physical change. Inside, Lloyd was still the same person - the boy who loved playing with Noishe but hated doing his homework, and would do everything in the world to avoid it. He hadn't changed. Not a single bit.

"Don’t sweat it. There are so many things you’re good at too! If it weren’t for your keen eye, I would’ve missed the kid entirely… So don’t be too bothered!” Lloyd gave her hand one squeeze before removing his hand, returning to his quest of returning to Colette's location. "Now, melt the ice!”

Colette did exactly that, leading the lumbering Ash over to the entrapped child and unleashing his fire breath. She watched with bated breath as the ice slowly melted, causing more of the child to be exposed to the air. They had previously used this exact same technique to unearth elemental fruits in the icy caverns filled with those icky bugs that exploded when defeated and obscured the screen with blue juice. It had been exciting then, to stumble upon secrets because of their penchant for exploration. But watching the child slowly be freed, watching their tentacles slowly start to move as they came into contact with warm air, was an entirely different experience, one that filled her with joy.

When was the last time the two of them completed a side objective like this, one that had direct effects on a citizen of this magical world? Casting her mind back informed her that that would be the starting town, when they returned to water the farmer’s crops with Deep Blue.

Now that the last child had been fully freed, all the children went running back to their worried mother, who proceeded to pull them into a giant group hug. Colette dropped her controller, clapping her hands together at such a sweet sight. Lloyd did laugh, then, a chuckle that she could feel rumble through her as well from where their shoulders touched. "What are you so excited about?" he asked.

"We did it! We saved all the children!" she exclaimed, watching the mother pull out one of the large elemental fruit in thanks. "Doesn't that make you happy? That we were able to help someone... That's what makes these side objectives fulfilling, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's just like you to get like this over a video game,” Lloyd replied, watching Kameo hoist the elemental fruit into the air, where it magically shrunk in size to fit in her bag. Colette wondered how Kameo’s bag even worked - how did it store Wotnot and dozens of elemental fruits? It was like a black hole. Just like Noishe's stomach.

“Though..." Lloyd frowned, staring up at the clock that hung on the wall, whose hands indicated that it was 2 pm. "Time’s up. We should get back to revising before Mom gets home from the vet with Noishe."

"Oh, you're right..." That was a downer. Time had flown so fast; their 20 minutes were up already!

The moment had come to return to the dining table and the assessment books that sat open on it. Studying was never fun, but it just had to be math today, and the chapter just had to be nets. Her most hated subject, combined with the topic she hated most. It was a headache all around.

But Lloyd was surprisingly good at nets, and he'd been a great help the whole day. Even if he still hated math with a passion and always got stuck on algebra questions, where it was her turn to assist him. That was why studying together was effective! They could fill in the gaps for each other, and motivate each other to keep going. Just three months left to go until it was all over! They could do this, and they would get through it. Together, just as they would every predicament that came to pass in the future.

"Um, and before you go home today, could you help me with something else?"

"What is it?" Colette asked, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table. Lloyd was staring at the carpet, his hand absent-mindedly pulling at the hem of his singlet, separating the fabric from sweaty skin.

“Ellum’s birthday present,” Lloyd muttered, his voice getting softer with each word he spoke, until she could barely make out the words. “His birthday is in two weeks, and I…”

Ohhh.

They had a habit of telling each other almost everything, for any secret was always safe with the other. So she knew why Lloyd was clamming up. Ellum was his current crush, after all.

“Say no more. Of course I’ll help you! We can do whatever you want!” she replied with enthusiasm. She'd be happy to help.

"Thank you," Lloyd replied, meeting her gaze again with a tiny smile lighting up his face. "Now, let's get back to studying."

They made the short walk to the dining table, taking their seats across from each other. Lloyd's face was already starting to twist into a grimace, resigning himself to another few hours of torture at the hands of the twisted people who made their livelihood setting math questions.

Clearing away the Kit Kat wrappers on her assessment book, she glanced down at a question about nets she'd been working on before the break. Yet not a single word on the page was being absorbed. They were all running away from her.

The downside of Lloyd confiding in her for all of his crushes was that it was a stark reminder that she hadn't had her first one yet. And then, inevitably, her mind would drift further to all the little ways she stood out from her classmates.

It was like everyone around her had changed drastically overnight at some unknown point in time. The jokesters of the class had just started making dirty jokes one day, prompting scandalised glares from the rest of the class but also prompting snickers. She herself didn't get the joke half the time, just laughed to go along with everyone else.

Then there was the shift in daily conversation. Instead of discussing their favourite Pokémon, more often than not the other girls would now discuss in hushed voices while giggling which celebrity was the most attractive. She herself would sit quietly, trying to melt into the wall as she observed without interjecting, half fascinated and half horrified. Weren't they all too young for this?

Things got even more awkward when she was forcibly pulled into the conversation when someone directed a question at her. She had no idea what to say whenever someone showed her a picture of a celebrity and asked her to rate them. The only thing she ever managed to stutter out was that their eyes were a nice colour, and so was their hair. That... was how you judged a person on how attractive they were, right? Everyone else, though, seemed to think she was weird. But how was she supposed to be feeling? No one had ever taught her. It felt like everyone was keeping a secret from her on how these things were supposed to work, then making fun of her for not getting it.

She only got more confused every time something like that happened. All she wanted to do was go back to talking about her favourite cartoons, but that didn't seem to be an option. Lloyd wasn't in the same class as her, so she couldn't even sit with him and ignore everyone else. The only time she could meet up with him during school hours was at recess. She didn't know what Lloyd talked about with the rest of his friends. Maybe the same stuff. But she didn't really care, because, with him, she could just be herself. There was no need for tiring pretence.

All she could do when the girls were in a mood to discuss celebrities again was sit a little outside of their circle, counting down the seconds remaining for class to start while she tried to look as occupied as possible. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief every time the topic of conversation turned back to something a little easier to understand, like video games.

But surely, someday, she would understand.

She was waiting. For that day. For her to finally catch up to everyone else in the race she hadn’t even known she’d entered until everyone had left her in the dust, still standing with her mouth agape at the starting line. To finally be like everyone else, to be able to fit in seamlessly. But there was no use getting down about it!

She just had to meet The One. Then everything would change, everything would fix itself. That's what happened in all the stories, the shows, the movies, after all.

Because everyone, in the end, learned to feel the same way, right?

~~~

19-years-old

"Right! I think that’s enough for now.” Colette’s voice shattered the serenity of her room from where she was sitting on the bed with her laptop balanced in her lap, cutting through the sleepy fog that was starting to fill Lloyd’s head. The peaceful Ghibli tunes that had been filling the room cut off abruptly as she shut her laptop screen, reaching a hand up to undo her messy hair bun.

Lloyd yawned, rubbing his eyes and hoping that would make his eyelids feel less heavy. Pushing himself up from his belly-down position on the bed, he caught one last glance of the back of Colette's neck before her hair covered it again. Doing prep for uni was not the most exciting way to pass the afternoon, and it certainly wasn't normal fare for a date. But it had to be done, so they might as well do it together, as they did all things.

Though he'd gotten distracted and started scrolling through YouTube about an hour ago.

"Are you going to change out of pyjamas?” Lloyd asked, stretching, his shirt hiking up slightly. He’d taken the lift down the three floors that separated his apartment and hers in the old HDB block that they’d stayed in all their lives, rang the doorbell while staring at the Chinese New Year decorations that were still hung up despite the month now being April, and waited for Colette to open the door… Only to be met with the sight of Colette in her favourite doggie pyjamas, the baby blue button-up ones that covered every inch of her skin. She'd shrugged and said it was cold from the non-stop rain, but he knew the real reason was the lazy post-A-levels haze, that affected him as well. These days, sleeping in until noon was the norm. Or sleeping in until one of his parents came into his bedroom to knock him awake.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing a towel and a few articles of clothing from the open wardrobe and heading towards the doorway.

“Alright.”

Lloyd closed his laptop slowly, not wanting a repeat of the time in Secondary 3 he’d shattered the screen because Zelos had sneaked up on him and caught him unawares. He rolled off the bed, making the small trip of barely a few steps to the study table, passing the various objects Colette had up on the walls - the Disney posters she’d gotten ages ago, and the random stickers she’d amassed over the years from school club sales and donations - and the bay window filled to the brim with cute and huggable soft toys, a familiar Siberian Husky that showed the signs of being well-loved sitting atop the pile.

Lying on the study table was Colette’s Nintendo Switch, plugged into a socket to charge. Right next to it was a jar holding paintbrushes of all sizes, all of them as clean of paint as possible, for he knew Colette took extremely good care of her art supplies. The sketchbook no one was allowed to peek into was sticking out of the table’s drawer, half-used pads of foolscap and sheets of paper with pencils rolling in them visible within. Files that he’d nearly kicked, containing lecture notes and worksheets, were shoved into messy piles under the table, unneeded after the conclusion of examinations but having no convenient place to be stored. The tiny shelf sitting on the table still had her Junior College badge housed on one of the layers, silver in colour and reflecting the light from the windows, despite her having no use for it ever since they had graduated in November. (Perhaps she liked looking at it? She was something of a magpie sometimes.) He could spot a familiar conch shell, placed among other knick-knacks, mostly birthday presents.

Picking up the handheld (with its lime green and cyan JoyCons firmly attached), he unplugged the charger and watched the screen light up - and frowned at what it showed him.

"Hey, Colette!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. He hoped he could catch her before she entered the bathroom. Uncle Frank was working in the master bedroom no more than five metres away and had been nothing less than incredibly nice, as he always was, providing tons of refreshments and snacks. Lloyd would like to prevent a shouting relay if possible.

If Colette had been walking, she shouldn't have reached the bathroom yet...

The fast pitter-patter of bare feet against the floor informed him that he was right. "What is it, Lloyd?" Colette's head poked its way into the doorframe, her golden hair reaching down towards the floor, her blue eyes wide and questioning.

"You left Animal Crossing on," he answered, waving the Switch in the air.

Her eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh. You know what to do, right?"

Control the playable character and put her to sleep, then save the game. He'd done it before.

"Yeah, but, I was thinking... I haven't taken a walk on your island since last year. How about I take another tour while you're in the bathroom? If you're okay with it, of course."

"Oh, sure! I trust you." Colette smiled sweetly, turning to leave before pausing and turning back. "But remember -"

"- remember not to step on the flowers." Lloyd finished her sentence easily, stating that fact very seriously. He knew about Colette's concerns about her precious flowers, which she’d spent hours arranging around her little island until they were in just the right spot - fields of rainbows to welcome any guests and guide them around. He hadn't known that the stems of the flowers could break from being trampled multiple times when he first explored her quaint world - the fictional flowers were just as fragile as their real-life counterparts. He’d kept that in mind ever since, adding it to the many rules to follow to ensure no harm came to all the hard work Colette had put in to make her island perfect.

"Yep. Um…” Colette wrung her hands together, bowing her head so her hair formed a veil over her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

“No, nothing’s wrong!” Colette hurriedly replied, lifting her head again. She screwed her eyes shut, hands clenching into fists. “I - uh, just wanted to say… I love you!”

The last three words came out in a shout, so quick that he almost didn’t catch them.

Lloyd froze, trying to process what he’d just heard - and before he could reply, Colette was already gone, having fled down the corridor and out of sight.

He slowly shut his mouth, which he hadn’t even realised was open.

This was the first time she’d said those coveted three words since they'd started dating. Her voice had been dripping with uncertainty, her posture betraying her shyness, but no matter how contradictory, she’d said it with sincerity, with all her heart. And even though he didn't need to hear them from her to know she loved him, for it was actions that counted, and certainly didn't need to hear them from her for him to love her, it still made him smile, his whole soul filled with a light warmth.

They’d travelled such a long way from all the checkpoints in life that they'd passed together. They still had a long way to go, but they’d do it together. As they always had.

"I love you too, silly," he said into empty space, knowing Colette couldn't hear him but wanting to say it anyway.

Lloyd unlocked the Switch screen, staring down at Colette's intricate creation. Flowers filled the screen, black, grey, white, purple, that he found familiar but couldn't put a name to. Oh, well. He would just tour the island and check out any new changes while he walked to the living room and waited for Colette to come back. Maybe he'd visit the town centre as well.

The most vital question to be answered was... Had Colette gotten those froggy chairs that she wanted for the townspeople?

~~~

Next chapter

[kyber-kisses]

Hymn (Part 3)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader (platonic)

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: descriptions of violence, cursing, more angst and fluff. (You guys know the drill)

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do?

A/N: I am so excited for you guys to read this chapter! I worked really hard on it and i hope yall enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated!

The stories told are all we know Exchanged in truth and word The photographs are quilted paths From places we've outgrown

It wasn’t the thunder outside that woke you up. It was never the thunder. If anything thunder was soothing to you, even if you were only eight years old. But it was the creak of your bedroom door that roped you in consciousness. The timid voice of your brother moving softly through the space.

“Y/N?”

“What is it Dean?”

“The thunder. It’s too loud.” The small four year old whimpered, jumping slightly when another round rattled the house.

“You wanna sleep in her with me?” You mumbled sleepily, getting your response when you heard small feet quickly move across the carpet before he dove under the covers besides you.

“Why aren’t you scared of it too?”

“Because Im not scared of anything.” Sighing you rolled over, trying to fall back into the middle of the dream you were having.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Now go to sleep.”

. . . That didn’t happen, because not five minutes later you heard Dean speak up again.

“I can’t sleep. The rains too loud.”

Letting out a groan you rolled over once more, flinging the covers off of you as you slid out of bed. “Come on.” You held out a hand, waiting for Dean to take it.

“Where are we going?”

“On an adventure, what else?”

There was a pause before you felt him latch onto your hand, and then he was sliding out of bed besides you, looking up at you with his big green eyes.

“We gotta be quiet though, okay?”

“Okay.”

You navigated the darkened hallway with ease, Deans hand still gripping yours as you descended the stairs. A flash of lightning lit up the living room as you entered.

“What if we get caught?” Dean whispered, looking back up at you through the dark as the two of you entered the kitchen.

“We won’t. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because were ninjas.” You smiled, suddenly hoisting your little brother up onto the tabletop. His small legs kicking lazily over the edge as he watched you.

“We are?”

We carry with the friends we make The hearts we mend and break I see it in another way All lives that we have changed

“Uh-huh.” Nodding, you slightly you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached across the counter for the dented pie tin. Only one slice of apple remained- but that was more than enough. Grabbing that along with two forks you moved back to Dean and pulled out a chair, using it as somewhat of a stool to help you climb up onto the table.

“Do ninjas eat apple pie?”

“I think so. Why wouldn’t they?” You shrugged, lightly tapping your fork against his as you split the piece with your brother. His eyes lit up once again and before you knew it his cheeks were full of apple filling.

Good. Your plan had worked. He wasn’t thinking about the thunder storm anymore.

“Next time can we be cowboys though?” Dean spoke through a mouthful of crust. “I like cowboys better.”

“Sure, as long as I get to be your sidekick.”

“Deal.”

You held out your free hand, pinkie extended. “Pinkie promise?”

“I pinkie promise.” It took him a moment as he juggled with the fork and then his small pinkie wrapped around yours.

“What do you two think you’re doing?”

The sudden and new voice was followed by a click as the light above the table switched on, both of your heads whipping around in surprise.

“Hi, Mama.”

Sure enough standing in the doorway to the kitchen was a very pregnant Mary Winchester, her golden curls falling over her shoulders like a waterfall, her arms crossed.

“I believe it’s past both of your bedtimes the last time I checked?” She mused, her soft and familiar smile crossing over her features as she stepped into the room.

“The thunderstorm was scaring Dean-“

“So she took me on an adventure! Don’t tell Dad!” Dean suddenly blurted, his words slightly muffled by the amount of dessert in his mouth. His eyes widening when he realized how loud he had been.

You watched your mothers eyes narrow before she raised an eyebrow. “Hmm- I won’t tell him. . . As long as you share some of your findings with me.”

You paused to share a look with Dean before he nodded. “I guess we can allow that.”

With that you passed over your fork to your mother, the woman slowly sinking down into the chair you had pulled out earlier. “Now, what type of adventure was it tonight? Pirates? Knights?”

“It’s a secret.”

“A secret? Oh well you can trust me. I’m good at keeping secrets.” Mary whispered back, her elbows on the table as she leaned forward, taking a bite of pie as she did.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he leaned forward. “Ninjas.”

“Ninjas? Oh well that is exciting.” She nodded, the same soft smile from earlier still on her lips. The three of you sat in the kitchen until there was nothing but crumbs in the pie tin and then she was ruffling the hair on both of your heads.

“I think it’s time my little ninjas went off to bed now, isn’t that right?”

You slowly nodded before sliding back onto the floor, the cool tile making your toes curl as you helped Dean down. “Can I sleep in Y/Ns room tonight? The thunders still too loud.”

“As long as it’s okay with your sister.”

You gave him a small nod as you rounded the table, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss on your mothers cheek. “Goodnight, mama.”

“Goodnight you two.”

Mary’s smile came back as she watched you extended your hand to Dean, his own quickly moving to latch onto your again. “C’mon Dean. Let’s go to bed.” She shifted in her seat so she could rest her forearm on the back of the chair, the two of you darting off silently to the stairs and off to bed. . .

I must go alone Cause I need you there So my memory of home is full

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The force in which you awoke from your sleep was enough to make the chains tethering you to the wall rattle, your head slightly snapping back to collide with the cold metal, the impact making you wince.

“Fuck.” You gave a tired groan as you rolled your shoulders- well at least as best you could. A yawn came shortly after as you allowed your head to rest against the wall. Just a dream. . . Or memory. Dream memory? Was that a thing?

You let out a sigh as you felt your heartbeat slowly begin to find its steady rhythm again, eyes shifting tiredly to the bindings on your wrists and the length of chain that shackled them to the wall. That shackled you to the wall.

Shoot. You forgot about getting yourself thrown in here. . . Then again you did have a hobby for getting on the bad side of your keeper.It was like timeout. . .a very uncomfortable timeout.

Shifting as much as your bindings would allow you tried to get more comfortable. Your butt was numb from sitting in the same position for so long, but there wasn’t really anywhere else to go. You let yourself sink back into your previous position, your arms having lost all feeling awhile ago from hanging for so long.

It wasn’t the first time you had gotten yourself thrown in the cell, and if anything; at this point you were just doing it for the sheer amusement. You had to get your entertainment from somewhere . . . Even if that did mean annoying the hell out of some demons.

The silence that had surrounded you was suddenly broken though when the massive door to the old train car rolled open, light splitting through the darkness as the wheels squealed in their tracks revealing a shadowy mass.

At this point anyone else probably would have screamed and cried or pissed their pants. . . But this was practically just another Tuesday night for you, so you grinned.

“Manah. I thought you were never gonna come visit me. You really shouldn’t leave a gal waiting.”

“And I was hoping by this point in your career you would have known better than to disobey orders.” She tutted, deep red eyes locking onto you tightly.

Career. You huffed with a roll of your eyes. That’s not exactly what you would call it.

The demon in front of you was known by most as Aka-Manah. Birthed from zoroastrian legend she had a knack for controlling others, using them like puppets- like she had been doing to you since what felt like forever. She was the same one that snatched you away from your family, along with a pair of particularly nasty hell hounds. You had the scars to prove it.

Not trying to take my time away Replace the old with new My prison with my reasons right Till I come back to you

You called her the Puppeteer because that’s exactly what she was. She snatched people up from their families and made them do her dirty work. Usually it was children, they were easier to work with. Manah liked to stay in the dark, keep her hands clean. Her acolytes as she called them (you being one of them) were her fighters, her killers. . . And because of it you had so much blood on your hands. innocents and guilty alike.  She pulled the strings and you did the dance. You still had your own thoughts and control of your own mind, but it was your body she used. Her finely tuned weapon capable of cutting down anything she wanted gone.

Manah towered above you, tall and long limbed, in a black dress that dropped off her hips and hung loose around her calves, her straight red hair shifted slightly in the breeze coming from outside as she moved to pull at the silk gloves around her hands. She seemed annoyed. . . Angry even. After years you knew how to read her.

A smirk crossed your lips as you tilted your head slightly. “Aw, are my baby brothers causing you and your demons trouble again?” You knew you hit your mark when her jaw clenched. Of course you knew your brothers were still out there, whispers of the famed Winchester brothers passed through thin lips often around here. Manah wasn’t fond of them, they killed so many of her demons that she often took it out on you. This was gonna be one of those times.

Your words got you a harsh slap across the cheek before she knelt down in front of you, your cheeks squeezed between her thumb and forefinger. “You best hold your tongue. I got a job for you.”

“What kind of job? Because like I’ve said a thousand times over you vile skank; I’m done doing your dirty work.”

She squeezed harder much to your irritation. “Oh you know that’s not true. You, my darling Y/N, are my swift and terrible sword. . . And you are far from done.” Using her free hand she fished into the pocket of her dress, producing a thin silver chain, a rams head charm hanging from the center.

Your face fell along with your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Please don’t.”

Manah ignored you, snapping the necklace around your neck. It was her way of controlling you, as long as the necklace stayed on she held power over your body. You couldn’t take it off yourself, the magic it was laced with prevented it.

“Now, it’s time we got those pesky siblings of yours off the playing field, don’t you think? You’ve constantly asked me to allow you to go back to you family, well here’s your chance darling.”

That’s all it took for you to realize what she was doing. She was sending you after your brothers, and Manah didn’t take prisoners.

Now I must go alone Cause I need you there So my memory of home is full

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[rhiannoneithne]

Chapter 1

I was running, faster than I knew I was capable, down a slight incline.  I was wearing a heavy blue cloak, and I could feel it flutter behind me and catch occasionally on the trees as I moved.  The woods were pines and oak, with thick underbrush of leaves that crunched under my bare feet as I ran.  I didn’t know why I was running, just that I needed to; as though it were in my blood, and my very soul was screaming to continue.  

I began to laugh as the sunlight streamed through the cracks in the foliage, casting light in red and gold.  The air was crisp, and I could smell salt water blowing in from nearby, even though I had no idea where I was headed, or what else was around.

I abruptly stopped, nearly tripping over a fallen log a few inches from my feet.  I could see it, I felt drawn to it - a massive, ancient, oak tree.   I put my hands out in front of me and could feel an almost magnetic draw, I needed to touch it, to wrap my arms around it, to become part of it.  

I stepped forward, as the sky suddenly grew very dim.  Thunder began to crash above my head, and the wind began to swirl the leaves around my feet.  I touched the tree, both palms pressed against it at chest-level, and watched as the bark began to develop a blue glow.  The glow grew and began to take shape, quickly forming writing across its’ width.  “AWAKEN!” it read.

“Child, Awaken!  The sun has been up for at least two hours!”  I could feel myself being shaken back to consciousness, and opening my eyes, met the kind eyes of my grandmother.  Her face was softly wrinkled, and her hand cool on my shoulder.  

"I'm awake now, Amima." I put my hand over hers.  "I'm sorry I overslept. I'll hurry, and finish the chores."  I sat up quickly, untangling myself from the mass of auburn hair that had wrapped around my waist in my sleep.

"No need, dear girl!  What, you don't think an old woman such as myself can keep up with you?  Come down when you're dressed, and we can discuss what kept you to your pillow whilst you eat."  She made her way down the narrow, rickety steps with ease, and I was left to myself to wake up.  

I could see the sun streaming through the large window next to the stairs.   I stretched, sat up, and smiled at the warm midsummer morning.  Breathing inward, I could smell the morning bread, fresh from the oven.  There may even be strawberry preserves.  I wanted to just fall back to my pillow and imprint this moment to my memory, but my stomach had other plans.  Growling loudly, it reminded me that there was a reason Amima was considered one of the best cooks around.  

I eased out of bed and padded over to the chest next to my bed.  There was a pale green skirt with tiny red pinstripes, and a pretty cream blouse next to my fresh shift and petticoats, all laying nearly on top - a special outfit for the Spring Festival.

I quickly dressed, grabbed my brush, and ran down the small steps.  I could see my grandmother sitting at the large table, laden with bread, jam, and fruits.   The windows were open at the far end of the long table, and I could smell the sweet scent of warm grasses blowing in and mingling with the bread and the herbs my Amima kept dried hanging from the rafters.  

“Come, child, eat, and let me brush out your hair.”  I handed her my brush, reached out and ripped-off a hunk of fresh bread, and could hear Amima chuckle softly.  I could almost hear her thinking, “There’s a knife right beside you, my child.”  I rolled my eyes “Yes, Amima” I said aloud, forgetting that I was imagining her response.  She chuckled louder.  As I slathered it with fresh butter and strawberry jam, I held it in my teeth briefly as I had almost forgotten to don the red apron hanging upon the wall behind me. I tied it quickly, took a bite of my breakfast, and sat down on the stool at her feet.  

Feeling around in my apron-pocket, I came across the pale green ribbons she had given to me the night before.  “For the festival”, she had said with a wink as I kissed her cheek and stuffed them in the pocket.  

My hair was long - nearly to my knees, and this process would take quite a lot of time, bread, and tea before the tangles would be gently smoothed away, and braided into whatever Amima fancied that day.  We had a system.  I would sit, eat, drink, and talk.  She wanted to know everything on my mind, especially my dreams from the night before.  She knew how I took my tea and had it waiting as I settled in.  Every once in a while she would stop to refill my cup, or cut another slice of bread, or even just turn my face toward hers and kiss my cheek.  I loved the feeling of her cool hands upon my face.  I loved her, she was my family, all I had in the world, and I dreaded the idea of losing her.  

“Impossible!” She would always laugh.  “Stuff and nonsense!  I’ll outlive you at this rate, with your tending to the wounded animals, running about the valley with Baiel, and your sleeping in trees when you’re supposed to be minding the goats!”

So taking the first slurp of my hot, sweet, mint-tea, I asked: “Will you do something special to my hair for the Festival?”
 “Mmmhmm…” Was her reply.  She had to know how much I hated surprises!  As the brush ran through my hair, I took another bite of bread and around it began to tell her of my dream from the night before.  Of the trees, and the energy I felt in my hands, and the blue words written upon them.  

“Oh my child, my Analei.  What remarkable dreams you have.  I wish my sleep were so vibrant, but at my old age it’s best that I not get too excited.”  I could hear her smile in her voice and I giggled.  Amima was a restless sleeper, who talked in her sleep of numerous, unintelligible things.  She thrashed, she laughed, and would sometimes even roll right out of bed, cursing as she went.  When she finally woke herself, she would begin her day.  

Sometimes, our days began before dawn, with a frantic knock on the door, and another woman of the village needing assistance with her labor.  Amima was the local midwife, and I was waiting impatiently for the days that she would begin my training, as well.  There was never a death, neither mother nor child when she was around.  I only hope I could live up to that sort of reputation.  

The light was streaming into our kitchen quite fully when she finally finished.  I could feel two heavy braids down my back and turned to look at my grandmother, a bit confused.  “Amima, I thought it was to be something special and elaborate.  This is how my hair is done every day.”

“Analei, it's just right."  She took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead.  "Besides, I think Baiel must be on his way.  Go, have fun.  This old woman needs to sweep. I'll be at the festivities later."  We both smiled, and I took off my apron, grabbed the last piece of bread, and ran to meet my very best friend.

Baiel had just opened our cottage gate when I came bounding out the front door.  He smiled and pushed his dark, curly hair out from his eyes.  

“Let’s go!  I want to see the fire-eaters before the ceremony begins!”  Baiel blurted out as he grabbed my hand and we bolted through the gate.   It wasn’t too far of a run, either.  Down the winding path that led to our house, through the birch grove, and left at the smith’s would lead us to the green at the center of the village.  

It was a magnificent sight, as it was every year.  There were people everywhere; children darting around, chasing each other down. There must be at least four villages worth of people, as ours is the main village for this particular festival.  

The smaller bonfires were already lit, and I could see newly-joined couples of every sort leaping over the flames as their families cheered.  There were fire-eaters, food stalls, and people selling all manner of goods.  The green was completely packed.  The larger bonfire was being built at the center, from stacks upon stacks of broken bits of furniture, wood leftover from this winter’s hearths, and large tree branches from the end of the spring’s storms.

“Analei, Analei!”  I heard my name being called and turned around.  Baiel’s elder sister, Nora was running toward us, carrying two flower crowns.  She caught up to us, and breathlessly handed me the yellow one in her hand, donning her own in blue.  I put it on, looked at Baiel, and shrugged.  “Thank you, Nora.  I don’t really think Amima would want me getting married anytime soon, though.” I giggled, as I thought of her stomping her foot and telling me that I was still just a baby.  

The wreaths are part of a tradition here.  Each girl once she’s of-age gets the opportunity to give one to whichever person she fancies, and if they accept, they have a year until the next festival.  If they’re in love, they will marry at the festival.  If not, they can part without either family claiming a broken engagement.  

A couple is also chosen to represent The Stag and The Doe, it’s open to any unjoined young people in the village and surrounding villages of the area.  They’re chosen by the elders of our village, are dressed up into gorgeous costumes, and The Stag is given a giant antler headdress.  Then they’re treated like a king and queen until the late afternoon when they’re led into the forest at the edge of the green.  It’s supposed to be the return of the Stag God, which the elders believe brings the warmth of summer, and continues the change of the seasons.  

I don’t think of it as much other than a fairy tale; it’s not like I’ve ever seen the Stag God or any other sort of magic before.  The real magic is watching the lambs being born, or the flowers blooming after the long winter.  The majority of us seem to leave the old beliefs to the elders and enjoy the fun and games.

There was a band of drums and whistles that had begun over near the main bonfire, and Nora grabbed our hands and pulled us over.  The crowd was growing bigger, and I saw Baiel let go of his sister’s hand and weave his way through to watch someone as they stood on a platform and spat out a giant burst of flame.  I stood there and listened as Nora was chatting with other girls from the surrounding villages.  They were currently discussing fabric for new skirts.  I looked down at mine and was thankful it was at least clean.  I had a bad habit of tearing them while climbing trees.

The festival goers were becoming more excited, as the bonfire neared its lighting.  I wandered through the crowds and came out at the edge of a joining.  The couple was supposed to jump over the flames of a small bonfire three times.  The first time it was one person who jumped first, then offered their hand and helped their betrothed over.  It was repeated a second time, only reversed.  The third time, the held hands and jumped together.

Everyone does their joining differently.  Some couples choose to be somber as they jump, walk back around, step onto the small platform in front of the flames, and jump again.  Others are jovial, dancing around the flames as they go.  This was definitely an enthusiastic couple - both of them men, leaping to the cheers of their families and friends.  They looked so happy in each other’s arms as they completed their last jump, and kissed to end the ceremony.  

I’ve always imagined my own joining since I was a little girl.  I wanted to do mine at twilight.  Just enough light to see my beloved’s face, but dark enough that the fire would be bright and gorgeous.  I could just see myself, my hair braided with flowing ribbons, and adorned with flowers; in a pale blue dress.  Twirling, spinning, and dancing with Amima and all our friends in procession as we make our way to the bonfire and my new family.  

My heart was pounding as we reached the short platform where he was waiting so silently.  I could hear it in my ears, it was so quiet.  I looked over at Amima and saw the faintest shadow pass over her beautiful wrinkled face as she smiled, and wrapped me in her arms.  She pulled back and led me to the platform.  I looked up and realized the face of my fiancé was shielded by a heavy cloak and hood.  I couldn’t see even the tiniest bit of his face.  I looked back at Amima, who smiled sadly and began scanning the crowd.  Everyone was suddenly somber.  I felt panicked and began to search for Baiel in the crowd.  He wasn’t there.  My faceless partner began to pull me upward onto the platform, and I reached up to touch his cheek, hoping earlier was a trick of the light.  Pulling back his hood, there was nothing.  The cloak fell empty, onto the platform. 

I shook myself out of my daydream and felt myself gasping for breath.  I looked up to see a new couple beginning their ceremony, quickly turned around, and ran smack into my grandmother’s friend, Rittka - one of the village elders.

“My dear Analei, are you quite well?”, she took my shoulders to steady me so I wouldn’t fall backward, and looked into my eyes with concern.  

“Yes, I’m fine, Elder Rittka, thank you.  I just feel a bit tired, probably just all the fun and excitement.  I’m so sorry!”  I said, hurriedly, and forced a smile.  

“If you’re quite sure, my dear.  Why don’t you go over to the main bonfire?  I believe they’re about to begin.”  She smiled softly like she knew a great secret. “Of course, but I need to go find Baiel first!”  I began to pull away, and I turned and rushed off to find my friend.  

I found him at a stall, at the edge of the main crowd.  He had a meat pie in one hand, and a slab of cake in the other.   As I walked up to him, he noticed me and looked a little sheepish.  

“Want some cake?”  He offered a small plate for me.  My stomach growled, but I didn’t really feel hungry, as much as I just felt anxious.  I shook my head.  Letting my mind wander shouldn't make me feel so unsettled.

“It looks like you need it more than I do.  Why don’t we go to watch the ceremony? I think it's about to start.”  I tugged on his shirt sleeve, and we weaved a bit through the crowd.  As we walked, I kept thinking back to the daydream I had, and that I kept expecting to see Baiel waiting for me at my joining.  Is that what I really wanted?  I mean, I would have no issue being joined with him; we were friends and had been since the cradle.  He's kind, he loves to laugh, he's good with children and animals, he's a steady, hard worker.  I would never go without, and I know there have been times I've caught him looking at me when he thinks I don't notice.  Is being comfortable enough?  Is a good provider enough?  There are so many love-matches in our community, but is friendship love?  I could easily imagine a home with laughing children, all clambering to be the first in Pappa's arms, but the face has always been hazy.  Is it Baiel?  

Amima once spoke of her own grandmother, who was arranged in her joining before the elders long ago decided to do away with marriages of convenience and property.  She spoke quietly of a woman with a steely spine and gaze, who was simply brought to her own joining at fifteen and had never met the man beforehand.  Amima hadn't known him.  She said her own mother hadn't known him either.  He just left for the fields one day, twelve years and eight babies after his joining, and hadn't been seen again.  

I took the circlet from my head and looked to my right where Baiel stood.  He was cheering madly as The Stag was chosen.  I looked up and recognized the blonde-haired boy a little older than me.  We had met a couple times before, but never more than a passing hello.  He was from the next village over, and sometimes his mother sent him by to fetch Amima when one of his sisters were in labor.  He was always a bit quiet.  

Something in the corner of my eye caught my gaze, and I swiveled around to catch the movement at the edge of the field.  There I found just barely at the tree there was a little red fox, dragging a large haunch of roasted meat with him one of the festival-goers must have neglected.  I stared him for a long moment and felt the warm air grow cool around my neck and shoulders as the wind shifted directions.  The fox must have felt it too, as he dropped his prize and went up on his haunches, sniffing the air.  Our eyes locked for a moment before he resumed dragging his dinner into the woods.  I could have sworn his eyes were smiling.

I was shaken back to reality by Baiel and the realization that the crowd had grown deathly silent.  Baiel was elbowing me in the arm, and I quickly looked up and stuffed my circlet back onto my head.  He leaned over and whispered, "It's you! The elders called your name! Get up there, you're the Doe!"

Me?  My mind was reeling as he turned me square to meet the center bonfire and gave me a gentle shove.  As I started to move, the stares and whispers slowly dissolved into clapping and cheers.  Elder Tommassen helped me up to the platform, where Elder Rittka and the boy were waiting.  Everyone seemed to be smiling and so happy, but deep inside I felt so much dread.

"STOP!  I SAID STOP!"  I turned around quickly to find my Amima pushing her way through the crowd, and forcing her way up the platform stairs, panting.  "You cannot do this, Elders!  It's her first year!"

"My dear woman, this is what we have foreseen, she has been chosen!" Elder Tommassen boomed, his voice seeming to fill the sky.  The crowd around us resumed cheering, which he quieted with a gentle wave of his hand.  

"You cannot!  How is this any different from the ways we've left behind?"  As Amima spoke, the breeze picked up, fluttering flags, and even pulling circlets from some of the heads in the crowds.  I could feel her anger building.  

"Now Sine, really!"  Elder Rittka began.  I shuddered, I had only heard Amima's name in passing, everyone we knew and loved called her Amima - grandmother, as I did.  I braced myself for the oncoming storm, but it never came.  

"Sine, she's of age, and we've been waiting a very long time for her." Elder Rittka continued.  "You know our ways as well, if not better, than any of us.  You know what it means to be chosen,  and you know we cannot change that.  Is it better than our ways now?  Perhaps, perhaps no, but they are our ways.  I think young Analei will benefit greatly unless she is already spoken for?"  

Elder Rittka turned to me with a pointed look, gesturing to my head, crowned in flowers. I shook my head slowly.  

Amima looked as though she had been kicked.  She opened her mouth as if to retort, but instead squared her shoulders and turned to me.  "My child..." she began, as I watched her swallow hard.  My Amima never cries, what is happening?  She shook her head and reached in to kiss my forehead before slowly descending the platform and taking her place at the very front.  The same sad smile on her face as I had imagined earlier.

"Now, if there are no further interruptions, let the ceremony begin!" Proclaimed Elder Tommasson.  I looked once more at Amima and felt right there as though I were leading my own funeral, instead of joining in the fun of the biggest celebration we held each year.  The crowd cheered more loudly than before.

Elder Rittka took my hand and began leading me down the stairs at the back of the platform, where my partner in the ceremony was waiting, already decked in the green cape and antlers of The Stag.

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 20

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because dang the All-Maudra died. Gotta see what happens next.

Last times on book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis. They’ve managed with the Sifa by convincing Maudra Ethri to look at some cool flames. They’ve managed with the Dousan by restoring a cool, giant tree. But now they’ve received word that that the All-Maudra has died.

Chapter 20

Team Naia travels to Ha’rar... no, that can’t be right.

Amri felt like he must have misheard. Erimon passed the parchment to Kylan, who read it again. Amri didn’t need to read it. He didn’t want to. It wouldn’t explain how or why or who had done it. Just that it had happened. He reached up to see if Tavra was still on his shoulder. She was where she’d been since they’d leaped into the lake, but she said nothing.

Oof. I hadn’t thought of that but poor Tavra.

Her mom died and she never got a chance to go ‘yo i’m alive but a spider but and also you can’t stop me from dating Onica now because we can’t have lesbian babies like this.’

Amri wonders if the All-Maudra was killed by the Skeksis because she vowed to resist the Skeksis but that sets Kylan off. Also, Kylan shows he’s upset by crossing his arms and twisting his ears back. Like a cat?

But Kylan points out that All-Maudra Mayrin said she was lighting the fire of resistance but nothing happened like what happened with the Sifa and the Dousan where actual rainbow flames burned the story of uniting the Gelfling into something nearby.

“You think she didn’t light the fire after all?” Naia asked.

“Maybe she thought she had,” Onica said solemnly. “Maybe she died trying.”

They had no proof except the feeling in their hearts. Amri didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t deny it either: The Vapra fire had never been lit.

But if the fires HADN’T been lit for the Vapra and the All-Maudra was no longer leading them with some lip service about resisting. Then it means there was only one path for Team Naia to take in the seven chapters still left in this book.

They were going to Ha’rar after all.

MY GOD.

I never thought this day would come.

I mean, something is going to sidetrack them, right??

Because the side characters are making sure that nothing gets in their way.

Erimon lends them his Crystal Skimmer Tappa because she’s the fastest in his xeric and even asks Periss to drive it.

Ha, I knew Periss was joining the party.

Erimon has to stay and help organize the resistance with the other sandmasters once they arrive since Maudra Seethi is on her way to Ha’rar.

WHERE I CAN’T BELIEVE THE TEAM IS ACTUALLY GOING. Its been nearly three books of not going to Ha’rar! J.M. Lee, you’re blowing my mind!

“Now that the storm has broken, the xerics will continue to arrive. I will tell them the song of what has happened here. And when the time comes, we will heed the signal of the flames. We will join the fight against the Skeksis.”

“We still don’t know what that signal will be,” Naia said.

Erimon bowed. “We can never fully predict what form a sign will take. We only know it when we see it, or hear it, or sense it some other way. But I have faith in Thra, and in you. I will se to it the Dousan do not forsake the gifts we have been given. Not as we have in the past, nor ever again.”

You’ve really learned a thing, Erimon.

Erimon says that he thinks Periss can get them to Ha’rar in a day and so and apparently without a storm and without all the supplies, Tappa nyooms.

On the Skimmer trip, the team continues to discuss the All-Maudra’s death. Tavra finally pipes up to suggest that Mayrin failed to light the fires of resistance because the Skeksis found her out. But that there’s no point in speculating.

Because she’s finally getting what she’s wanted all along, to go to Ha’rar but in the way she’d least want it.

Be careful what you wish for?

“We must go to Ha’rar and reach someone who can tell us what happened. No more Far-Dreams or riddles from Thra. I want answers.”

“How are you taking this?” Amri asked. Tried to keep it soft, to let her know he was asking her feelings and not her political opinion. She was hesitant in answering.

“I am worried for my sisters. I am worried for my people.”

Amri tells her that Seladon will take care of Brea to reassure her and if Seladon’s arc is similar to the show then, -laughs in irony-.

Tavra was quiet a long time, unmoving. She curled one leg in.

“I don’t know that she will,” she said. “that is my greatest fear. My mother put her duties first and her daughters second. It was difficult to find ways to earn her love. Because of our station. But we tried. For me, that meant becoming a soldier. For Brea, becoming a scholar. For Seladon, it meant becoming All-Maudra one day... but the pressure was often too much. She is not ready, and I fear the Skeksis know that.”

“You should be All-Maudra,” Naia said suddenly.

Hah. Naia doesn’t even know Seladon and she’s like ‘wow she probably sucks and you’d be better.’ Poor Seladon.

The idea brought a strange fantasy to life. Tavra, in her Gelfing body. Sword in hand, drapedi n the silver cloaks with the living crown on her brow. She had traveled farther than any of them, knew more of the state of the world. Knew the Skeksis all by name, knew how the All-Maudra was expected to behave. Had the respect of her clan as a Vapra princess, but knew firsthand the hardships that had befallen the Gelfling who were so unlucky to find themselves in the Skeksis’ crushing grasp.

If there was ever a leader the Gelfling could look to, Amri realized, it was Tavra. Tavra, who was locked in the body of a spider, whose voice could barely be heard even by those who knew enough to listen.

“That is impossible,” Tavra said. She slipped below the rail and disappeared into Kylan’s traveling pack.

Relatable.

As evening falls they get closer to the snowlands and Periss tells them he’ll have to leave them at the frost line because Tappa is a DESERT CREATURE.

Nooooo Periss, you’re supposed to be the sixth ranger! You can’t leave your new best pals!

He also calls Naia Amri’s girlfriend and he does do the “she’s not my girlfriend” thing but less vehement and more embarrassed.

“Have you dreamfasted together?”

Amri’s ears went flat at the forward question. Of course he’d dreamfasted with Naia, but only to share memories that they’d needed to share, so the truth of the Skeksis and the message they carried would not be forgotten. But there were other memories, ones more secret and intimate. Private hopes and fears. Memories he had all to himself, beautiful things he’d seen when he’d been alone. Dreams he’d had, and nightmares.

Amri had always hoped one day to find someone to share those memories with. Someone he trusted enough and who trusted him to truly dreamfast. To share everything. It had never occurred to him that someone might be Naia. Until now, and only thanks to a wily Dousan thief. Periss grinned ear to ear, as if making Amri blush from embarrassment was his new favorite game.

“No. Not that way,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to?” Periss asked.

“I want to change the subject.”

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Excuse me I need to take a moment.

a moment

You’re adorable, Amri.

Also, based on this, Jen and Kira basically got engaged the first time they met. Just went full info dump on each other. ‘HEY I GUESS THATS ME AS A BABY’ because they never learned to not overshare in dreamfasting and because nobody ever taught Jen about sex.

Also also, this fits well with what we learn in the first book about how its a sign of maturity for Gelfchildren to learn how to not broadcast their entire lifestory the instant someone touches them.

I continue to love the nuances we get about dreamfasting.

After sleeping and starting another day of travel, Amri spends some time practicing sword because he’s changed his tune on that.

Amri practiced his sword stances, parries and thrusts. Imagined striking down Skeksis after Skeksis as he charged into a citadel swarming with darkened beasts. It felt heroic in his mind, that part -- the charge, the thought that he could single-handedly defeat the monsters that might have taken the shining city -- but in the end, even in his fantasies, when they finally reached the throne, the All-Maudra was already dead.

Aw.

Although the first part of this wild fantasy sounds like Amri should have been scenario writing for the Age of Resistance trpg.

But its more about his understanding that even if he becomes a cool, heroic swashbuckling figure with like two whole days of sword practice under his belt and even if they win, that victory will always carry with it the tragedies the Skeksis inflicted on the way. Mira, Mayrin, other Gelfing whose names don’t start with M’s.

They reach the frost line and dangit Periss actually leaves! Just because you’re the sixth ranger you think you can come and go to save the budget??

Although, in a nice bit of growth, he gives the team all the jewelry he stole from the Sifa. Nice, they can give Tae her stuff back if they see her.

Going the rest of the way on foot, Team Naia actually reaches Ha’rar. I’m frankly shocked.

Like the crystals in a broken geode, the city of Ha’rar glittered in the protective shell of the mountains, covered in snow and glowing with moon- and starlight. At the far edge of the city, a majestic building stood with its back to the wide Silver Sea. It looked like an icicle, or one of the many crystal stalagmites in Domrak and the Caves of Grot. Every elaborately sculpted feature refracted the light of the moons and the Waystar, sending night rainbows across the city.

It was beautiful, but eerily silent and ominously dark.

Hmmmm.

None of the lanterns are lit and none of the people are out and about on the streets. Spooky.

Tavra tells them that they absolutely must not be caught by the Skeksis. And then with her hometown knowledge guides them along back paths and side roads.

They have to duck out of view at one point when two Skeksis come down the street.

Skeksis. Two of them, passing by on the street just in front of them. One wore broad-shouldered, black-scaled armor, covering his spiny back like the carapace of an armalig. Gray hair -- or was it fur? grew across his blunt forehead and cheeks, casting a hazy shadow upon his scowling lips and piercing yellow eyes. The other stood straighter in his crimson and black robes, armored and adorned in shining gold chains. He seemed taller yet, thanks to the fleshy spike that protruded from the top of his head like a horn.

“skekUng and skekZok,” Tavra whispered. “The General and the Ritual Master.”

I wonder if skekVar exists in this continuity.

skekUng is the General so Var doesn’t have a lot to be doing.

Also, FLESHY SPIKE? ZOK ARE YOU OKAY?

-google image-

He does have a gold hat thing but in one of the comics he just has a tall head spike so I DUNNO. I’m a little alarmed of him now.

Anyway, skekUng being here is bad because they all remember skekLi gloating that skekUng was making something bad.

Being possessed of ‘only the most relevant conversational snippets’ senses, skekUng complains “This is a waste of time. I say we kill the princess as we killed her mother and let the Vapra bow directly to us. As they should.”

Which confirms that the Skeksis killed the All-Maudra.

AND THEN before they can process that, Amri is grabbed by a hooded Gelfling.

“He’s possessed by a spider,” hissed a female voice, familiar in Amri’s ear. “On his shoulder -- quick, grab it and crush it!”

Onica stops the hooded Gelfling, who turns out to be Tae. Hi Tae!

Tae isn’t convinced because apparently the body-jacking spiders are a known and concerning concern at this point.

Amri tells Tavra that its time to reveal herself to Tae.

Tavra let out a tired sigh.

“Tae, it’s me. Katavra.”

Love that tired sigh. Spiders can’t even sigh. That’s just how tired Tavra is.

Tae wants to know HOW and possibly several repeated incredulous WHATs but Amri points out that its not a great idea to get into that in the middle of a sneaking mission. So Tae leads them off somewhere they can talk.

Geez only six chapters left. And we’ve got Ha’rar, a dead All-Maudra, Tae’s back. Periss took off... dangit did Periss take off because of a party limit? Tae is now the sixth party member?