#She's a local! She lives in our front yard! :D

[sysig]

We met a darling 💕

[chouettecrivaine]

Ah, Young Love! [Our Life: Now & Forever]

Fandom: Our Life: Now & Forever

Characters: Qiu Lin, Tamarack Baumann

Notes: takes place during Step 1, so he/him is used for Qiu as that is how he identifies at this point in the story!

So anyway I'm obsessed with how everybody wants Qiu but Qiu only has eyes for MC once they meet so I'm thinking about his silly little boyhood crush. And then I couldn't leave best girl Tamarack out of the love fest so here's just a few little things I was thinking about with them having childhood crushes on u <3

Note that only the demo is publicly available and I am not currently a patron so anything here that is proven true is coincidence and anything proven false is just me having a little fun

Qiu Lin

So like. I've seen Qiu call you pretty twice in the demo. Once when you meet him if you choose to call him pretty first, and again towards the end of what's available in the demo when he's listing off reasons why you should be allowed to join the club..

I just think that whenever he talks about you he always has to let it slip that he thinks you're cute. "They had on a really nice hair clip today!" "Their hair looked so cute when they took off their hat at school." "When I picked them up to walk to school, I was so surprised at how pretty they looked!"

When he told his parents about you he probably said "this really pretty kid surprised me in our yard and we went on a miniature adventure!"

Also (and note that my MC uses she/her so im gonna quote him using gendered terms but only for this one instance) When he's introducing you to one of his friends, he starts off with your name and says "she's a girl!" (Or whatever terms you have set)

So I just think he says the most basic facts about you with so much awe and wonder 🥺 like you wore overalls to school? He talks like you invented denim. You had a funny comment or joke? It's like he's never heard one before in his life when he retells it.

I feel like…the first thing that makes him interested in you is that you're new. Not only does this make you fun to mess with, but it makes you far more interesting than the people he's known his whole life. Plus you, unlike Tamarack, don't immediately brush off the cool things he wants to show you or do with you if it isn't immediately your cup of tea.

Darren and Baxter are sick and tired of hearing your name !! If you're not around Qiu wonders aloud at least once if he should or should've invite(d) you. If he did invite you and you had to decline, then he wonders what you're doing.

The type of kid to skip out on his weekend chores at home and go to your house to help you unpack instead

Ok so MC says they used to live in an apartment, right? Probably in the city? And MC was only allowed to play on their own because Golden Grove is "a safe neighborhood?" What if MC doesn't know how to ride a bike. What if Qiu teaches them…

Whether you get a hang of it or not, he daydreams about doing that thing where he rides the bike and you sit backwards on the seat or on the handlebars or something

When he finds out you can't ride a bike, he definitely shows off by riding around without his hands on the handlebars.

Will teach you how to jump off the swing set too, then will have competitions over who can swing the highest and leap the farthest

I feel like Golden Grove has a cute little main street with a bunch of locally owned shops. If you're interested, he'll show you every. single. business. Even if most of them are "granny shops" he isn't interested in. He'll let you poke around for a bit :)

He has a special page in his notebook for all the little notes and doodles about you

If you look closely at the note he gives you after class, you can see the remnants of a few tiny little hearts that he erased!!

Going back to him offering you to ride on his bike: he probably got you in trouble once because you were on your front lawn and he rode up asking you to go on an adventure with him on his bike. You're expecting a fun little 20 min ride through the walkable path in the woods that'll have you back home by dinner. Instead he takes you to town and buys you ice cream and the two of you have to struggle your way back up the hill on foot and it takes like an hour and a half to get back and your mom was worried SICK

Buys a pack of pens with one/some of your favorite color(s) and writes you notes exclusively in that/those ink(s)

If you and your mom go somewhere and he knocks on your door while you're out, you will come home to see him sitting on the steps to your front porch and waiting for you

Before class starts, he always gives you a funny face or a wave. If you come in late because of a doctor's appointment or something, naturally a lot of the kids turn to look at your entrance, and he immediately waves at you. Maybe even says hi to you out loud if he knows Mrs. Murray is in a good mood / he can get away with it.

If he finishes his work early or something, he'll turn around in his seat and just watch you from across the room with major heart eyes. He smiles wider and waves when you notice.

Anything you compliment him on, he immediately draws attention to around others. Say his hair looks good today? He'll hit you with a "oh but not every other day?" but then tell his seatmates about what you said.

Buys extra portions of his little snack bags of chips and candy or whatever he likes when he can so that he can give them to you during lunch.

Gets on a kick and will pester you about having a secret handshake until you let him come up with one. He likes having special things just you and him 🥺

Probably invites you to his hideout at a specific time and day every week and he gets soooooo excited for that time to roll around.

Tries extra hard in your favorite subject, even if it's one he hates. He's not trying to be top of the class, but he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about something you care about!

If you like a class he's terrible at, he'll ask for your help! Or, if you struggle in a class he's good at, he'll volunteer to help you out even though he HATES the concept of doing extra schoolwork. That's how much he likes u

He'll do this with any windows but especially if one of your bedroom windows faces his: he will definitely pull a Taylor Swift in "You Belong With Me" and write notes for you guys to read to each other

Since he can't sit with you, he'll write you notes or make you doodles and then pretend he has to get up to sharpen his pencil so he can pass your desk and slip it to you

Tamarack Baumann

Tamarack will straight up just stare at you 👁👁

She follows you around like a lost puppy and visibly brightens up when you're around

Looks forward to school because she gets to sit next to you all day! Like she'll skip happily along the path with you and Qiu and you'll ask her if she's looking forward to all these things and she'll just go "No!" and when you finally give up and ask why she says "because I get to spend the whole day next to you!"

When she goes to play in the woods, sometimes she'll spend a while in the shallower end of the tree line waiting to see if you'll come outside and play with her

Has definitely thrown sticks and pebbles at your back door to lure you out before she gets bored

Likes to go around and pick up the coolest rock, the prettiest flower, the biggest piece of tree bark, a leaf the size of her head…then before she goes home for the night, she stops by your house and gives what she picked up to you!!

If you're not home then she leaves it on your porch with a note, usually held down by a rock if it's not something heavy 

She'll be over the moon if you give her cool rocks and stuff you found. Even if you're literally giving her trash, like if you ONLY give her bottle caps or pop tabs you find on the sidewalk, she cherishes them. Would make jewelry out of them tbh

Ok so quick tangent but there's a book I read in about 4th grade called Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, and in it the love interest girl is the quirky type. One thing she has is a little decorative cart on her dresser which she puts rocks in every time she's happy and takes rocks out when she's sad. When the protag goes to her house and finds out, she explains how she has put the most rocks in it since meeting him. They kiss sometime after that and she puts another rock in and tells him about it. I think Tamarack would have a jar or a doll house bathtub and she would do the same thing, putting rocks in it when she's happy! So what I'm saying is give her plenty of rocks so she can exclusively use MC rocks for that 

Also will make matching jewelry for the two of you without even stopping to think if you even wear what she's making. She'll buy kits to make special rings and headbands, braid a million friendship bracelets out of multicolored string, use acorns she found to make earrings…anything! She is just as happy if you wear it then she is if you buy a jewelry display stand and show them off in your room. Eventually she adds keychains into the mix for some variety

Doesn't mean to spend a lot of her time waiting on you but she does. On weekends, instead of going directly into the woods, she'll just lie on her back in her yard and stare up at the clouds, completely still, daydreaming (about you) until she hears your door opening. Then she runs to you.

If any of your windows are open, particularly your bedroom window, she'll send a bunch of paper airplanes your way. Most of them make it! However, you've learned that if you find even one paper airplane inside, you're going to have to check that side of the house for more scattered on the ground

Grips onto your arms or your clothes whenever she can. You two are connected.

Makes a BIG effort to like anything that you like as much as you do! And when she follows you around, it doesn't really matter if you're doing something she doesn't care about. She just wants to spend time with you! It does make her whole week if you follow her into the woods, though.

She doesn't take notes in class, but you leave a writing implement out for her and sometimes she'll reach over and doodle a cute bear or something on your paper :)

If you say you're cold, she'll give you her scarf, no questions asked. Is also down to share but don't let her do that while you're walking because it WILL end badly 

Has wrapped the scarf around the two of you and tied you guys together before and yes it was the best recess of her life 

When walking, she tends to lean into you which sometimes almost turns into pushing you and Qiu into the road if you're not careful

Likes to drag you around places and pretty quickly invites you to her house. She doesn't tell her grandparents that she's inviting you over, so they're surprised by you almost every time, but they don't mind! She's dragging you up the stairs to her room too quickly for them to say anything anyway

[deadmomjokes]

D-

D-?

Dog??

DOG!

This is Rosie. By pure divine providence/luckiest coincidence, the day after we were mourning getting ghosted by a dog we were going to meet, we checked our local shelter and found The Perfect Girl.

She's two-ish years old, according to her former owner, but there's not a ton we can trust from what they reported. According to the shelter, the former owner is an overpopulated backyard breeder/puppy mill they're working with to try and get them to surrender the dogs of their own volition so it doesn't get tied up in court forever. So far, they've been dropping dogs off piecemeal, and Rosie was one of them.

In theory she's a Maltese, though she came to the shelter as one big mat so they had to shave her. Underneath the mats, they found that she was very underweight--about a 2 on the body condition scale. She doesn't really know how to do walk on a leash, knows no commands, doesn't know how to play, and is scared of basically everything, from the noise of cicadas outside to dark windows and doors.

But we knew she was Our Dog the moment my daughter walked in front of the kennel. Rosie went from cowering in a corner to licking the door trying to get to her. When the worker brought us outside to a meet and greet area, Rosie came right over to our daughter and put herself in her lap. Then she demanded scritches from my husband and I. Apparently this was the first time Rosie had willingly interacted with a person, including shelter staff. That was that, of course; had to be done. That's our dog. Mostly my daughter's dog. Rosie may like the size and squishiness of mine and my husband's laps for cuddles, but the Bean is her person.

She's slowly getting used to life outside of both the shelter and a very crowded environment, and the bigness and quietness make her nervous. She doesn't like being alone, and insists on touching us any time we sit still. She's very bony, and it's hard for her to find comfy places to be. She's scared of the stairs, but also hates the picking-up part of being carried. (She'll accept it and come ask for a ride after staring morosely at the stairs and deciding that uppies are the lesser of two evils.) She just got spayed, so she's not feeling her best. There's the zero-training thing, of course, and the unfortunate gastric consequences of so much change all at once. So it's going to be a tough transition period for all of us, and a lot of work over a long time.

But we already love her to death, and we're starting to see some of her personality come through already.

She loves blankies, the fuzzier the better. When she's not coned, she will aggressively resituate the blankie with mouth and all four limbs until she makes a perfect little volcano to snuggle into. The goal and, it seems, necessity is now a blankie in every room for her to nest up in, that way we don't have to keep carrying her current ones around every time we change rooms.

She prefers being outside to being inside, and would gladly sit out in the yard all day if we let her. (Alas, it is not fully fenced, and she's so naked she would be eaten alive by mosquitos and burnt to a crisp by the sun.)

Transition points confuse her just a little bit, so she does a cute little skip-hop over door thresholds and surface texture changes. She's always incredibly proud of herself after doing so, even if she assumes we're not looking. She just likes doing her little dance.

She prefers to either tuck right up against your butt, or to perch as close to your shoulder as possible--there is no in between.

She was very pleased with herself that she got her bony lil butt precisely on my shoulder there.

And yes, my dog is wearing a sweater in the dead heat of the summer, she's very naked and very skinny and has exactly zero cold tolerance for air conditioning.

Welcome to the fam, Rosie! Your life may not have been the best before now, but now you can live your best life forever.

[lokilickedme]

I think I’m officially thanksgiving’ed out.  This was our first year of doing the whole dinner/family/friends thing and we had to sort of bootleg it the same way we do christmas - since both sides of our family are still solidly in the cult with no intention of ever getting out, we of course had to just leave them out of the equation.  And since most of our friends IRL don’t know yet that we now do holidays, for the last three years we’ve been doing them however we see fit, at home, with just us.

This year was the first time we’ve been invited to spend thanksgiving with friends, and it was nice, but today I’m worn out and had to pass on Round Two with the other side of the friend-family (we had dinner/desssert/hanging out last night).  So I’m home alone, everything is closed, the husband and kids are across town having dinner #2 with another batch of friends, and it’s just me and the cats sitting in front of the fireplace thinking about what we want to watch.

It’s kinda nice.  And now I can start our Bootleg Christmas stuff, sort of.  It’s a bit of a bummer living so close to husband’s mom now because she drops in unannounced all the time, so I can’t decorate the house or put up a tree or anything (it’s a long story, some of you know about the cult shit), but I’m figuring out ways to get around it.  I’m picking up old christmas trees that people are putting on the local free stuff app and sort of...planting them in the back yard.  Fake christmas trees.  I’m building a forest of them LOL - and I’m lighting them all up, because if it’s outside and I leave it up all the time I can call it backyard decor and MIL can’t say shit :D  So now my whole back yard is going to be Griswald Extreme, and I will put on my snowsuit and take my coffee and go sit outside on my patio in the snow and enjoy the lights every night, because that’s the beauty of Bootleg Christmas...nobody can tell you how to do it but you.

[fmhiphop]

National African American Museum Set to Host Hip-Hop Block Party

This world-renowned center of black history is celebrating African American art with a major block party this upcoming August. A Block Party to Remember The National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) has announced plans to throw a rap block party. The Smithsonian released a promotional poster and official statement last week, detailing the exciting event. https://twitter.com/NMAAHC/status/1536317666113294338 According to the Smithsonian, the block party is packed with “performances by local and national talent, presentations and activities that explore hip-hop music’s origins and cultural influence”. To honor the one-year anniversary of the Smithsonian Anthology of Hip-Hop and Rap, a public celebration is scheduled for Saturday, Aug 13. Rap fans and black history buffs will have plenty of time to enjoy the music and festivities. The block party will run from 11 am - 11 pm. If you can snag a ticket, you’ll be treated to performances by O Slice, Yungmanny, Phuzz, and Mimi Fresh just to name a few. One notable performer is D-Smoke, a contender in season 1 of The Rap Game on Netflix. DC is famous for its thriving block party scene. Capital Pride Block Party, The Block Party Carnival, and the HUSL Block Party are just a few of the yearly events the area hosts. Along with its bustling brunch culture and the go-go music scene, DC is a nonstop hub for black culture And camaraderie. The Smithsonian Anthology of Hip-Hop and Rap has already received glowing reception in its first year. Luckily, party patrons will be able to explore the museum displays during the building's routine hours. If you're a local foodie, there's a reason to stop by. The Sweet Home Café, located inside the building, will be serving “hip hop-inspired” cuisine. The live performances will take place inside The National Museum of African American History and Cultures first floor. There will also be an outdoor stage a short distance from the museum. Recognizing Black Music as History In addition to the block party, the Smithsonian is also premiering the seventh installment of its ongoing web series gOD-Talk 2.0: Hip-Hop & #BlackFaith. This series features several accomplished rappers and academics having enriching discussions about the culture. This special new episode promises to “explore the relationship between hip-hop culture and Black expressions of faith and spirituality.” You can tune in on Facebook Live Sunday, Aug 14 to catch the episode. The associate director for curatorial affairs for NMAAHC Dwandalyn Reece is all on board. She spoke about her excitement for the event in a recent statement. “The origins of hip-hop and rap rest in community where people gathered together in basements, on street corners, neighborhood dance parties and community shows to tell the stories of the people and places that brought it to life in a language all its own.” She began. “It is only fitting that NMAAHC celebrates the one-year anniversary of the Smithsonian Anthology of Hip-Hop and Rap with a block party in our front yard. Like a true block party, we invite all ages to come together to enjoy activities and performances in honor of the museum’s greatest homage to the music and culture of hip-hop.” She explained. Truly, this upcoming August has plenty in store for DC's history and music buffs. Visit the official event site for tickets and further details. Also, Follow FM Hip Hop on Instagram and Facebook Dreema Carrington|IG: @dr3amgirl79 | Twitter: @notdreema Read the full article

[gayaristocrat]

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

[theiceandbones]

Nova Scotia Bones: a brief listing of famous haunts in Canada’s ocean playground

Nova Scotia is a lobster-shaped granite peninsula that juts out into the North Atlantic on Canada’s east coast. It’s ancient, it’s damp, it’s rocky, and it’s home. It’s also wildly haunted. The impenetrable granite bedrock that we live upon seems to act as its own tomb for the energies of those who departed their earthly vessels on the volatile shores and in the coniferous boreal interior. Or, perhaps, it is our own maritime culture, one that is freckled with memento mori, that adds fuel to these legends that have been passed on through the ages. A culture that lives and dies by the sea is no stranger to tragedy and haunts, eventually one learns to live alongside them. For better or for worse. 

I’ve collected a few ghost stories that have stood out to me over the years. When one grows up in Nova Scotia these are a select few that everyone speaks of, some may be lesser known but still thoroughly chilling. These will be arranged in order of popularity. 

1. The Young Teazer The Young Teazer was an American privateering schooner who, in June of 1813, would find herself in the waters of Mahone Bay being pursued by the British fleet. Her commander, a Lieutenant Johnston, knew that if he were to be captured he would most certainly hang, and knowing this, he ordered his crew to abandon ship in a major way- the Teazer was exploded, all onboard except for eight perished in the blast. It is now a well-known local legend that on a warm summer’s night, one may still see the reflection of a ship on fire in Mahone Bay’s quiet waters. 

2. The forerunner It’s just now occurred to me that I cannot possibly continue without speaking of the forerunner. This phenomenon features extensively within Nova Scotian folklore and is a key aspect of maritime superstition. A forerunner is an omen of death. It may take the shape of the doomed themselves, their scent, a light, an overwhelming sensation of dread directly linked to the individual, a falling photograph of or other object related to the individual, or one’s name being called by the individual. When expecting company, a traditional maritime host will set the large Pyrex kettle on the stove, always containing at least half a dozen teabags, to boil, but sometimes the recently-expected guest may not arrive- ever again. Here are a few selected tales of forerunners from Nova Scotia’s past. 

Anyone who is familiar with the series Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark will remember the story of “The Thing.” What they may not know, however, is that this story is based on a real event which happened in Victoria Beach, NS. A Mr. Thorne and his friend, Joe, were out walking at night when they spied behind a neighbour’s house a long, spindly, pale creature dressed in a white shirt, black trousers and black braces peering back at them. Well they had no idea what this creature could be and so they ran back to Joe’s house after it had given them a right spook. Eventually the pair returned only to discover that now the creature was standing atop the fence in the neighbour’s yard, a fence so old it crumbled under a person’s touch, and that’s when it was decided they were done chasing this thing for one evening. 

Years later, Joe took ill with consumption and died. Mr. Thorne, his ever-faithful friend, had stayed up with him right up until the very end. Joe’s condition had wasted him away so powerfully he was nary more than skin and bone by the time he’d passed. Mr. Thorne through the years had been hesitant to tell this story at all, for a good reason. Because, he says, toward the end of Joe’s life, lying in bed in his graveclothes, he looked just like The Thing.

In Liverpool, NS, a Mrs. Viola Oickle was seated at the kitchen table playing cards with her friends when she looked up and in the window, plain as day, was her Uncle Ernie. “There’s Uncle Ernie” she said, they’d heard the latch on the door open, but Ernie never showed. After cards she decided she’d go round to Ernie’s house to check on him, and there he was, peeling apples on his front step fit as a fiddle. However, mere hours later, Ernie had died of a heart attack at his home. 

Marion Bridge in Cape Breton is home to a wealth of ghost stories, of course the forerunner is one of these. In addition to one’s apparition, three knocks may also be an omen. A Mrs. MacGillivray tells the story of her mother waiting up one night for her father to come home when she heard the sound of a wagon being pulled by horses up the road. They stopped, then came three knocks at the door- which was strange, but her mother figured he may need a hand with something outside. Looking out, she realised no one was there at all. Of course she knew what three knocks meant and feared the worst for her husband. Eventually he returned home in his usual health, but her mother was still confused. A while later the body of a man was found up a nearby road and the men who’d discovered it stopped at the house to change horses at night. They knocked three times on the door, exactly the same sequence of events which transpired when her mother had heard the knocks before. 

3. Treasure The province has a storied history of pirates and privateering, so it comes as no surprise that stories of buried treasure are quite popular. As superstition has it, when digging for treasure, one must not speak until the task is done. If a word is spoken, the treasure will never be found. The spirits of pirates go to great lengths to ensure this, one tale tells of a man digging for a hidden treasure with his wife and young daughter. His wife pipes up, “oh would you look at those monkeys!” This is eastern Canada, as such there are no monkeys native to the area. Unsurprisingly, there were no monkeys to be found, and the treasure itself was never uncovered. Speaking of pirates

4. Black Rock Beach/Maugers Beach In Halifax’s early days as the port city it remains today, it was no stranger to pirates. Pirates, however, were not so welcome in Halifax as one may assume. When a pirate was caught in Halifax, they would be hanged and displayed in an iron cage at Black Rock Beach at the harbour’s mouth, or at Maugers (pronounced locally as Major’s) Beach on McNab’s Island a little further out. This is how the latter gained its name as Dead Man’s Beach. 

5. Other phantom ships Nova Scotia’s ties to the sea are a major part of its cultural superstition. From “red sky at night” to “never sail if you see a forerunner,” seafaring superstitions are etched into the fabric of life around here. It comes as no surprise, then, that there are so many stories of ghost ships in the mix. One such story comes from 1874, an experience of a Captain Hatfield from Fox River, NS as he was sailing from Cuba to New York. Asleep in his cabin one night, he felt three taps on his shoulder and a voice urging him, “keep her off half a point.” He figured this was the mate or another of his officers, but they each assured him it was not them. He felt the tapping and heard the voice again. As he was growing annoyed, he got up to look around and saw a man climbing up the ladder but was not dressed like the others onboard. Nevertheless, he got up and gave the order to keep the ship off half a point. When morning came, a wreck was spotted half a point off course of his ship, and onboard came Captain Amesbury of the schooner D. Talbot, his wife, child, and his crew. Captain Hatfield recounted the story of the night before to the captain and his wife, to which the wife informed him the man he saw was her father who had passed ten years prior. 

A story from Seabright of a fishing vessel that was lost in a sou-easter tells of a captain who’d not turn back as the other boats did, but instead dared the lord to stop him from staying behind. The ship was lost, of course, and for ages onwards sailors would recount seeing a bright light at night that disappeared during the day. It would tack when the respective vessel tacked, but no one ever saw the shape of the boat itself- just its light. But, as sailors do say, one can feel a ship just as one can feel a person nearby. 

6. St. Paul’s face in the window This one dates to the time of the Halifax Explosion which occurred on the 6th of December 1917. St. Paul’s Church is the oldest building in Halifax, its foundation having been laid in the year of the city’s founding in 1749.  As legend has it, the deacon of the church was standing in the window parallel to the Narrows of the harbour when the French munitions ship, Mont Blanc, exploded. His profile remains in the window to this day and can be seen via Argyle Street. 

7. The Black Window House Another Halifax legend, the Black Window House on Robie Street has a long history of superstition. It was built in 1840 for the first elected mayor of Halifax, William Caldwell. It is said to be haunted because of its infamous black window. Local legend states that once a man peered in the window and saw witches dancing their dance of death on the verandah. When the witches caught him spying, they turned the window black. 

8. The Town Clock One of Halifax’s most iconic landmarks is the Town Clock on Citadel Hill. This is one of the few surviving round structures designed by the Duke of Kent during his visit to Halifax in the late 18th century. It is said that before the clock was constructed, there existed a well near the site where it stands today. A young girl was reportedly playing near this well when she fell in and died. Her spirit is said to remain in the clock tower to this day. 

9. Citadel Hill No discussion of Nova Scotian haunts is complete without discussing Citadel Hill. The Halifax Citadel is today a national historic site, however in the past it was used as a fully-operational military fortification and is one of the best-remaining examples of a star fortress worldwide. Ghost stories from the Hill are many and varied, and some workers have reported seeing strange phenomena themselves such as footprints behind locked metal grates. In the month of October, ghost tours are given by costumed interpreters at the site where famous stories are recounted. Some guests report their hand being held by a smaller, invisible hand, others talk of seeing a ghostly man in the uniform of the 78th Highlanders Regiment walking the grounds only to disappear. It is worth noting that the Citadel never once fired a shot in anger. 

10. The Five Fishermen This popular (and pricey) Halifax restaurant serves up fine dining and spirits...not always of the alcoholic variety. Restaurant staff over the years have reported cutlery flying off of tables, seeing apparitions in the washrooms turning the taps on and off, doors closing on their own, and hearing their name called when no one is around. The form of a grey figure is also said to wander down the staircase. 

11. The gallows For a time after Halifax’s founding, a gallows was set up on the corner of what is now Lower Water and George Streets. Public executions were a spectacle that could be viewed by all townspeople of all ages. According to local legend, on a clear night the ghost of a hanged man is said to be seen swinging by his neck in the spot where the old gallows used to stand. 

12. Dagger Woods I cannot stress enough how creepy and unsettling this area is. In northern Antigonish County there is a forest known as Dagger Woods. In this forest, there is said to live a demon known as the Hidey Hinder who steals unsuspecting visitors to the underworld, the person is never seen or heard from again, supposedly vanishing into thin air. People travelling through the woods report hearing strange and frightening cries that they cannot place, and, understandably, avoid the area afterwards. The woods are the subject of a song by the same name by Nova Scotian folk metal band, The Stanfields. 

13. Peggy’s Cove Peggy’s Cove is by far one of Nova Scotia’s most popular tourist destinations. As a lifelong resident of Nova Scotia, I encourage you to visit this beautiful point but please, PLEASE, stay off the black rocks for god’s sake. Anyway, the ghost who is lucky enough to live here is, of course, named Margaret. The story goes that Margaret and her husband settled here after a shipwreck claimed the lives of their children. Margaret was heartbroken, and so her husband decided to cheer her up. He made his way onto the rocks where Margaret would often sit and lament her lost children and performed a dance for her, but it would turn out even worse- he slipped and fell to his death. In a fit of agony, Margaret threw herself off the rocks and into the sea, and her ghost is said to haunt the rocks of Peggy’s Point to this day.

14. Caledonia Mills, or Mary Ellen’s Spook Farm Back in 1922, the MacDonald family lived on a farm in Caledonia Mills situated in Antigonish County. Their adopted daughter, named Mary Ellen, was not held in high regard. A series of fires that had taken place during the winter devastated the family, and Mary Ellen was said to be at the root of them; it was believed she was born of an evil spirit. When she denied these accusations, she was sent to live in an asylum. Her spirit still resides in her farm, and to any unlucky visitor who’d like to bring back a souvenir, they might find that mysterious fires start to ignite in their own home. Best to leave the farm in one piece.

15. Horton’s Cove This is not one that’s widely known to many, however it is a story very personal to myself. On a spot of land in Guysborough County, the remains of a young boy who died in the early 20th century are buried. The grave is unmarked and the boy’s cause of death is unknown. That being said, his presence can be felt in both the field and the hills around where his resting place is said to be, and trust me when I say there is no feeling quite as unnerving. 

16. Cole Harbour Poor Farm/Bissett Road Asylum In the 1920s there existed a mental asylum in a quiet part of Cole Harbour, outbound toward the harbour itself. The building is no longer there, said to have burnt to the ground in a fire, however the spirits of its residents can be felt in the vacant lot on the hill where it used to stand. Across the street on the edge of a sprawling field is a small fenced cemetery containing ten unmarked white crosses. It is rumoured that these graves house the remains of children who used to live in the asylum, though it is more likely that these graves were intended for adult residents. It is not yet known whose remains these are. 

Dealings with the paranormal and superstition is a way of life for many in Nova Scotia. It is our maritime history and culture which largely feed these beliefs, whether one believes in them is entirely up to the individual themselves. One thing that isn’t so easy to shake, though, is the sensation that there’s something in the trees or that field over there. Say, what’s on the water? 

[mariamermaid]

The Heir of Silberstein; schwarzes Schicksal (ch. 4)

“Black Fate”

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: As a new school year approaches in Hogwarts, the students are surprised when Dumbledore introduces a group of German siblings joining the school. The royal family of fortress Silberstein is now sent to Hogwarts to learn the matters of a normal teenager life. …

Words: 5.6k

A/N: There will be one more chapter/ some kind of epilogue coming on next Thursday! In this chapter are a few more mentions of blood and violence. Also, it´s explaining a lot more regarding the war.

Masterlist

10th of May, 1933; the local library of Baden-Baden. Queen Clara the second, drifted through the rows in the back of the library on the hunt about another book about specific herbs to heal magical creatures. Among the muggles, she was just another resident coming to visit. Obviously, they were unaware of her origin and especially of the wand pressing against her hip underneath the long coat. Time had flown and evening was coming, it was already dark outside. A little startled, she shivered before packing the two books under her arm and leaving the library. As she stepped out, she pulled the headscarf deeper down to her face, her Pegasus was waiting a few streets down on the roof of the Stiftskirche, the local church. She had to hurry to come home as the nights were still cold, but loud screams made her stop. Quickly, she hid in an alley while lurking towards the yard in front of the library. A couple of men in military uniforms, she counted at least 30 of them, made their way towards the library. Only few people tried to stop them before they eventually entered the library. The men who did try, were thrown to the side, even beaten and punched to make sure they wouldn´t impede again. Clara gasped, pushing her hand over her mouth. The group separated and within only a few minutes, they had created a small pyre and the other half, came outside carrying boxes of books. She peered a little closer until she was able to decipher a few of the titles; all books written by Jewish authors.

Tears started forming in her eyes and she stumbled a little backwards, further into the alley, taken back by the heartbreaking scene. She almost let out a scream, when her back suddenly bumped into someone. Luckily, it was Mr. Landauer, a fellow wizard living in Baden-Baden, and, a Jew.

He nodded with his head as a sign of courtesy, before his eyes wandered towards the fire as well.

“We have to be careful, my Queen. Protect your subjects and warn the king. War is coming.”

His voice was low and barely a whisper, an unusual sight of the polite Mr. Landauer. Goosebumps crawled down her spine and Clara could barely form a nod.

“You should come to the Castle with your family, we can protect you.” The worries in her eyes were clearly written, but Mr. Landauer barely shrugged.

“I thank you for the offer, my Queen. But you have to keep going now.” Biting her lip, Clara nodded before hurrying into the darks of the city towards the church. While she climbed up the bell tower with her heart beating in all of her limbs, a man in uniform stepped outside the library. His short cut hair was pulled back under a cap. In his arms a box of books, which looked awfully boring and innocent. But he knew that at a second glance, they had hidden messages. Messages only wizards could read and his hatred burned bright as he starred into the pile of books on the pyre…

 The Night of broken glass had been the starting point in 1938. The annihilation of Jews began and with that, came the slowly but surely assault towards the German wizards. No history books or humans had experienced anything similar.

Oberst (german for colonel) Richter was a highly qualified military leader, but deep beneath the weapons he shouldered in the sight of the coming war, laid something else. Something dark and very surreptitious, no one was aware of what would follow after the 9th of November in 1938. Synagogues and shopping malls were burning. Graveyards, schools and residences of Jews, all burning and being destroyed. It was Hitler´s antisemitism that led to the catastrophe of the minority of the Jews. But Richter, who technically stood beneath Hitler´s commando, followed his very personal goals; the annihilation of wizards.

Driven by deep rooted racism, he declared the wizards as harbingers of the devil. Satan himself sent out his adjutants to bring an end to the world. A world the Nazis fought very hard to make their own. So, the clear conclusion was to exterminate the wizards to make room for the antisemitic ways of new Germany.

  March 1944

“We shouldn’t have gotten involved”, Karl sighed, his hand running through his messed up and slightly sweaty hair.

“What does it matter now?” He paused, but then nodded agreeing. It was all useless.

“You´re right, Clara. They´re safe and that´s all that matters now.”

They starred at the blank wall in front of them, the room was completely empty.

They were alone, but their thoughts remained with the train that left the station in the very mean-time, the wagons were filled by Jews or wizards, who feared the Nazis. Kind Karl and Queen Clara had united their powers to bring together a full train for them to flee in.

The cost; their own life.

The royal couple was captured in order to protect and cover more refugees, so they could reach the train in time. A few tears fell from their cheeks as they remembered their own children, who would grow up without parents. But they remained safely within the new protected realm of Silberstein; no muggle was ever to find the castle again.

A loud slam of the door let them shiver and Oberst Richter entered the room. It wasn´t a prison cell, but offered the same purpose. Both of their wands had been destroyed and Clara was shot in the side, where blood stained her clothes. Oberst Richter hair was still pulled back and Clara remembered how she had first seen him in front of the library years ago. He looked even more cold and cruel now. The room was filled with deadly gas, not enough to entirely kill them, but enough to weaken them and more so their magical abilities. They were left defenseless. Richter wore a gas mask, hiding half of his face but his eyes were still showing and they reflected all the hatred that burned on his inside…

King Karl and Queen Clara were killed on that day in march, but they left behind two young children. Those two siblings later had a child each, and the first born; Michael, then became the father of four children…

 Silberstein was only minutes away now; you could almost smell the scent of horses and pinecones. Fred and George flew a few feet behind you, letting you lead the way. The forest laid beneath them and high firs offered them cover. Suddenly, the two Weasley brothers felt like flying through a spiderweb, like a veil brushing against their skin and then they saw it;

The fortress of Silberstein.

The high tower was the first thing to make out, even in the dark of the night, it looked light and almost shimmering under the starlight. With a wave of your hand, you signalized them to fly closer to the ground, until you landed at the edge of the forest. The castle sat on a hill and the river separated half of the property from the woodland. “If we fly further, they´ll see us coming”, you explained quietly as the three of you snuck through the thicket.

“You´re the princess, shouldn´t they be on your side?” George asked curiously and you shrugged sadly.

“We don´t know on which side the employees are, they´re muggles, some house elves. Many of them are squibs, descendants of once wizard families but with no ability to control or perform magic.”

You nodded towards the stone wall, which faced towards the river side. “There is a secret passage to enter through the tunnels and dungeons.”

“Great, so we´ll just apparate-“

“You can´t apparate within our realm.”

The twins starred at you; shock clearly written on their faces. “The protection spells were created to keep unknown magic out, I don´t make the rules. Now take my hands.”

Fred eyed you carefully, while his brother grabbed your hand without hesitation. “Are you sure that you can handle this?” You huffed, but a glint of nervousness was seen in your eyes.

“Yes.”

The familiar feeling of your stomach turning and twisting took out your breath, and you stumbled a little backwards, when landing on the ground again. Fred was behind you, his hands grabbing your waist and keeping you from further falling. You shook your head, ignoring his continuous worried stare. “I´m fine.”

The twins eyed the stone tunnel they found themselves in. It was dark, the exit of the tunnel laid to their right and even though a metal grid separated the hallway to the cliffs and the underlying river, they heard the loud rushing and the water crashing against the stone. George had his wand ready in his hand; “Lumos.”

You led the group deeper into the tunnel system, several paths and junctions passing. “Do you remember the way?” George asked whispering. Tension was clearly hanging in the air. None of you knew what to expect. The stone was cold and the air was moist from the river water. But to you, it brought back a nostalgic feeling from your childhood.

“My siblings and I used to play hide and seek in these tunnels. I can tell them apart, even if you´d blindfold me.”

“Where does the tunnel end?” Fred asked, his eyes wandering back and forth in paranoia, making sure no one was following you.

“This one leads the closest into the castle; into the storage room behind the kitchens to be exact. There is also one ending at the well, at the armory and a few others.”

A nervous laughter escaped the twin´s mouth. “Love the emphasis on fortress; it´s not even that big!” You chuckled at their comment, but then you reached the end of the tunnel and silence settled again. With your wand, you tapped against the stone wall, the pattern was memorized in your head. Then the individual stones started turning, until a passage was revealed. The room you entered was equally dark as the tunnel, but you could quickly made out shelves with food and bags of wheat, the smell of fresh bread and pumpkins as big as heads.

“We´ll go through the kitchens and use the back hallways leading up to-.”

The sound of steps approaching made you abruptly stop. “Quick, hide!” You advised the twins, who disappeared behind large shelves on their own. They had snuck through Hogwarts enough, well past curfew, to know how to vanish into nothing but air.

“Nox!”

The steps stopped right in front of the storage room, lingering. You found your hideout closest to the door and watched how a mere light shone from the slot beneath. The door opened, slowly and carefully, you held your breath, the wand steady in your hand. The light fled the room and you lunged out, but stopped in your tracks as you came face to face with an old friend.

“Theresa”, you breathed barely audible. The twins lurked out from their hideouts, not sure if they should show their presence just yet. Your wand was pointed right at her and the lamp in her hand was shaking.

“Ich habe gehofft, dass du kommen würdest”, she admitted quietly and ignored the wand. (I hoped that you would come.)

Your eyebrows furrowed and you felt your jaw tensing.

“Auf welcher Seite stehst du?“ (On which side are you on?)

“Wenn du das fragst, weißt du genug um den Ernst der Lage zu verstehen.“ (If you ask that question, you know how serious the situation is.)

„Das war nicht meine Frage.“  (That wasn´t my question.)

She sighed and lowered the lamp a little to her hip height.

“Ich war immer auf deiner Seite, wir sind aufgewachsen wie Schwestern.“ (I´ve always been on your side, we grew up like sisters.)

Finally, you lowered your wand as well. She was right, she and her mother had been serving the royal family even before your birth and so often, you two had played with dolls together. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you pushed yourself a step forward, your arms quickly embracing her.

“Merlin sei Dank, bist du endlich hier!” She whispered, hugging you tightly back. (Merlin bless, you´re finally here!)

“Wie schlimm steht es?” (How bad is it?)

„Gerade noch genügend Zeit.“ (Just enough time left.)

The twins slowly stepped out and Theresa gasped in surprise. “I brought reinforcements.” You grinned at her and she nodded at the brothers.

“This is Fred and George, they´re friends from Hogwarts.”

“I´m Theresa, I grew up with Y/N and served her as a maid my entire life”, Theresa introduced herself. Even though she was older, she was small and petite. Mouse-gray hair neatly put together and her maid uniform sitting perfectly. The twins noticed her thick German accent, you barely showed signs of an accent and only few words sounded off, when you spoke. They often forgot that English wasn´t your native language.

“Theresa, I have to see my father.” You turned back towards the girl, a hand on her shoulder.

“I know, but it won´t be easy.”

 In the mean-time…

“Why didn´t you tell me earlier?”

August sighed, his brother, five beds across the room was awake and the curtain was pulled back.

“I wasn´t sure at first, like you always say; let´s not act stupid.”

“Does anyone else know? Did someone see him with the ring?”

August shrugged, he found the explanation process tiring and useless. “I don´t know about Paul or Ruben, but I guess that Albrecht doesn´t want anyone to know.”

Paul was head of the guards and Ruben was riding master, both well accomplished and highly ranked at Silberstein. Hendrik groaned slightly as he sat up further, he realized that it was useless asking more questions.

“When will Y/N be back?”

Just as August was about to repeat your words and answer his brother´s questions, the door to the infirmary opened and the youngest of the siblings came running.

“Ruth, what-“, Hendrik worriedly eyed his sister, who was clearly flustered.

“Y/n, she´s gone!”

“WHAT?” All previous pain and warnings to take it slow from Madame Pomfrey, were thrown overboard and both brothers hurried to their sister.

“What do you mean she´s gone?” August asked nervously.

“When did she leave?” Hendrik questioned further.

“Last night after visiting you”, Ruth explained towards August, still a little breathless.

“Did you follow her?” Hendrik wondered, but the youngest shrugged ignoring the stress in his voice. “I first thought that she would play some kind of prank with the twins when they snuck out! She didn´t come back though!”

The brother´s exchanged knowing looks.

“She went home, she went back to Silberstein.” Hendrik voiced what they all already knew.

A short break settled between them until August spoke up again.

“What now?”

Before Hendrik could answer, Ruth cut him off.

“We don´t have a choice, but to go back as well!”

For the first time in a long time, none of them objected.

  “So, let´s make it clear again; I sneak past the guards within the royal wing and you go with Theresa to free Paul and Ruben.” You repeated the plan and the twins nodded carefully. With Theresa´s insight view on the current situation, they had quickly figured out a plan.

“I don´t think you should go alone”, Fred finally admitted and George nodded agreeing. You shrugged acknowledging their worries, but at the same time, there was no better option.

“The guards are wearing silver armors, your wands are useless against them, but you can free Paul and Ruben from the dungeon!”

“I really come to hate your protection methods against magic, you know Y/N?” George added rolling his eyes and you offered him an apologetic smile.

“But I agree with Fred, you shouldn´t go alone nevertheless.”

“I´ll come with you”, Fred announced and his brother nodded. You let out a sigh, there was no time to argue.

“Fine, but stay behind me.”

Fred smiled, feeling a lot more comfortable not letting you go on your own and saluted. “Yes, my princess!”

You watched as Theresa disappeared into darkness, followed by George. In order to free the head of the guards, well the old guard order, they had to distract the sentinels, who were ordered by Albrecht.

He completely took over, the guards are following his commando only and he´s starving the horses, so they´re too weak. You shivered even recalling Theresa´s words in your mind. It was much worse than you expected. Quickly, you shook off your worries and nodded towards the hallways leading up to the right wing of the castle; the wing of the royal family.

An old broomstick was held tight by Fred, the fact that his wand was mostly useless, was not only foreign to him, but it scared him deeply.

“We have to be careful; we don´t want any attention on us. No one knows I´m here, it should stay this way for as long as possible.” You explained whispering. Almost inaudible, you moved through the castle, barely any light was left and only the stars and the moon through the windows offered silhouettes to make out. Up to the second floor, where the royal wing was located, you didn´t even saw any guards. But then, in front of the door that led into the wing and the private section of the castle, three guards moved up and down. Two torches were hung next to the door and alarmed by the light, you stopped behind a corner.

“How do we take them out?” Fred asked. He lingered only inches behind you, the two of your lurking from the corner and observing how the three guards, wearing shiny armor, paced up and down. You felt Fred´s breath on the skin of your neck as he spoke and goosebumps crawled down your spin. You swallowed and ignored the increasing heart rhythm. Then your eyes wandered across the gangway to the windows…

“We don´t, we let them believe no one entered the wing! We just need to take their focus off, then we snuck to the other side of the adjoining hallway. We´ll enter the wing from outside!”

Fred didn´t like the idea of climbing from one to another window, at the height of probably 300 feet or so with nothing but a small edge of stone to hold on. But he knew that it was a matter of life or dead.

“Accio mouse!” You took your wand and pointed it towards a wall and within seconds, a small mouse ran out of a small, barely visible hole. The high shrieking alarmed the guards and they all turned to see what exactly caused the sound. It was just enough for Fred and you to rush right across the vantage point of the guards and disappear in the opposite hallway.

You pressed your back against the wall, the guards couldn´t see you now, but they remained close. You had to be quiet.

A small reassuring nod later, you had opened the window and climbed out. The brim to stand on was narrow, barely enough for your feet, but a few holes in the exterior allowed you to use them as handles. You stepped slowly to the side until Fred climbed next to you. His eyes travelled down for a second, nothing but stone, not even a lug to stop you from sliding further.

His hand was holding onto the handle, and carefully, you placed yours onto his.

“Hey, we can do this, I know it.” His eyes found yours and Fred calmed a little.

“I trust you; you know this right?” He answered and you smiled softly.

“I know, anyway we wouldn´t be here.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “This is what you do with the people you trust? I don´t want to know what you do with people you hate!”

Your smile vanished, he´d soon find out.

Step for step, slowly and making sure you had enough grip, you made your way to the window.

“Alohomora!”

The window swung open and you hissed surprised, but luckily, it didn´t crash against the wall. From there on, you found yourself in the private wing and continued to hurry. The interior wasn´t as posh and rather simple, still you noticed the differences. Family portraits gone, paintings missing, plants and flowers left to die and the air was cold.

You grew sad, seeing your home basically abandoned and lifeless. If you had only known sooner.

“The king´s chambers are right across the corner.”

Theresa had mentioned two more guards right in front of the king´s bedroom, but you came face to face with four of them.

“Eindringlinge!” (Intruders!)

Luckily, the royal wing was fairly soundproof, but you sighed as the four guards came running into your direction. It would take more of the anyway precious time you had left.

“For Merlin´s sake!” You muttered sounding surprisingly calm to Fred, who gripped onto the broomstick like his life depended on it. Two of the guards had actual weapons, spears to be exact. The other two only held a shield. On the shield was a blank spot, where once the emblem of Silberstein had remained. It only made you angrier.

You spun the wand in your hand between your fingers and Fred watched, how a silver sheen briefly enlightened like a flash bolt. Then you suddenly held a sword.

You knocked down the first guard by very simple running towards him and using his shield as a landing spot from your lunge. Then you spun to the side, the second guard groaned as the sword slid across an unprotected spot on his leg. With a kick, you maneuvered him to the side onto the floor as well.

Fred was barely able to keep up, he realized what you meant by training now more than ever.

The two remaining guards shielded themselves with their spears. The left one attacked first, but you dodged and rolled across the floor, finding yourself right in between the two guards. A series of attacks and evasion movements followed, until you were able to disarm one of them.

While he stumbled back, you blocked the other one with the spear. Fred decided to step in and with a hard throw, the disarmed guard trembled backwards. The broomstick had harshly slapped against his head, and he fell over unconsciously. The guard with the spear kept you at a distance, due to the length of the spear, but as he spun to reach back, you slid across the floor. When he faced you again, you were only inches away from him and you pushed the sword through his body. The magical weapon was stronger than the armor, and as you pulled the sword back, spinning it again to reveal your wand, the last guard fell down.

Fred was stunned by your fighting abilities and he recalled for future purposes, not to ever mess with you. He knew now, that being a princess meant a lot more than just having good table manners. With your wand back between your fingers, you nodded towards the twin.

“Let´s go!” Your breathing was quicker and the adrenaline from the fight rushed through your veins. Then you laid your hand on the doorhandle, for a split second, you held back. But Fred´s reassuring presence gave you enough strength to pull down the handle.

“Father!” The look of the once strong king looking more ill than ever, broke you down. You hurried to his side, softly grabbing his hand, while Fred stayed a little back. He wanted to give you some privacy as well as watch out for more guards approaching.

He looked thin, not in a healthy way and his skin seemed collapsed down to his bone structure, pale and dehydrated. In the large bed, he was nothing more than a shadow of what he once used to be. A small groan escaped King Michaels lips; the sudden loud sounds had awoken him from a dreamless sleep. It was painful to watch, how slowly his eyes opened.

“Y/N?” His voice was barely a whisper and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks. The entire scene was heartbreaking to even watch.

“What are you doing here? You can´t be here”, your father explained, his voice quiet but also alarming. You furrowed your brows. “I had to come here, father, Albrecht he-“

“I send you away, so he couldn´t hurt you.”

You stumbled back, you thought you had it all figured out, but you hadn´t seen it coming. It wasn´t at all how you expected this go…

A loud shot shattered through the air; Fred spun around to see a man, who had appeared out of nowhere, holding a gun. He had appeared like a shadow and while Fred tried to attack him with magic, you felt hot burning liquid running down your skin.

“Stupor!”

Fred was thrown against a wall, after his spell simple drifted off, a loud crash followed and the nearby furniture broke into pieces. Everything inside his head was spinning, he watched from his laying position, how the man stepped out of the shadows into your direction. Something about the man seemed not only mean, but purely evil. He really hoped that his twin brother was more successful.

“Oh, if it isn´t princess Y/N.”

“Albrecht”, you pressed out between your lips, your hand was already pushing against the wound on your side. You felt a pulsing going through your entire body and a weakening stroke. You could only guess, that the bullet was poisoned.

Albrecht wasn´t as you remembered him, yes technically he had the same features, but it wasn´t the same person at all. His facial features harsher and his eyes glowing in greed. He didn´t wear his uniform, he wore a royal attire with posh details. Your father had managed to sit up on the bed.

“Albrecht, leave her alone!” His voice was still weak, but at least steady now. You leaned against the bed as your strength was draining by the second.

“Oh, I wish I could Michael, but little Y/n was stupid enough to come back on her own. Now she will follow her father´s fate! I need to follow my destiny”, he paused for a dramatic second.  “All wizards and witches must die!”

Even though your perceptibility wasn´t at its best, you were sure, that something was off about him. You felt a weird, almost mystical power lingering around his aura.

“Why? Do you want the throne?” Your voice was bitter and your eyes remained on him, you had to be careful, not knowing what he was capable of.

“It could´ve been so much easier, if it wasn´t for you all, but no! Karl and Clara had to make sure their descendants survived without my knowledge.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, what he said didn´t make any sense. “King Karl and Queen Clara were killed by Oberst Richter, but they still lost the war! The commando was extinguished!”

Albrecht chuckled, a sound you didn´t like it at all. “Are you sure of that?”

  George had Paul, who was severely injured, thrown over his side and braced him to walk. Luckily, Ruben had only few bruises and he cleared the way together with Theresa.

“Albrecht knows Y/n is here, he´ll kill her with the king altogether!” Paul groaned.

“What about the guards?” George questioned as they reached the entering hall from the staircase that had led down to the dungeons. The guards that had once watched over the head of the guards and the riding master, would soon catch up to the four of them.

“We have to save the princess and the king!” Ruben agreed and Theresa nodded as well. George let out a sigh, the situation seemed more complicated to him, since he wouldn´t risk their lives as well. He wanted to win this fight with as many survivors as possible, hoping not to sacrifice the employees of the royal crown. However, he was sure that Theresa, Paul and Ruben wouldn´t hesitate to do so.

Loud voices coming from the front yard let the group freeze. Were even more guards sent in order to stop them? A loud bang echoed and George felt as the heavy doors trembled beneath the eruption. Then the doors opened, all they could do was watch in fear as the fog lifted.

Hendrik, August and Ruth entered, all of them having their wands or even swords in their hands.

Hendrik was first to approach them, he held the sword steady in his hand and stepped to them with swift motions. He truly looked like a young king leading his kingdom. Ruth was quick to hurry to Paul, inspecting his wound.

“By Merlin´s beard, you all came!” Ruben breathed surprised, but relieved as well.

“Episkey!” Ruth didn´t waste any time and was able to heal a large portion of Paul´s wound. August was able to fetch two further swords for both Paul and Ruben, Hendrik turned towards Theresa and George.

“Where is Y/N?”

“She went with Fred to see your father, but Albrecht knows about her stay here!” George hastily explained.

“I don´t think the king will survive a confrontation with him. He´s not, who he pretends to be!” Theresa added and fear swallowed her voice.

“Let´s not waste more time!”

  “Are you sure of that? Are you sure that truly the entire commando was extinguished?” Albrecht repeated and the spite in his voice felt like a thick piton wrapping around your neck.

“No one could´ve survived”, you trailed off, knowing that it was useless at this point. Your calculations had been wrong.

“Are you a descendant of Richter?” Your father, king Michael, spoke up again and he exchanged a precarious look with you. Your eyes searched the room for Fred, he was behind Albrecht and you saw, how he slowly gained back consciousness. Albrecht´s bitter and evil laugh filled the room once again.

“A descendant? I thought you´d be smarter!”

You eyed your opponent closer, remembering the stories about your great-grandparents…

While she climbed up the bell tower with her heart beating in all of her limbs, a man in uniform stepped outside the library. His short cut hair was pulled back under a cap.

“How is it possible? You must easily be over 90 years!”

It had taken you too long to figure it all out; Oberst Richter and Albrecht weren´t relatives, it was the exact same person.

“Actually 102 to be exact”, he grinned and loathing crawled down your spin.

“But how?”

Winning time was number one priority, Fred was almost completely back and he watched the scene unravel, while you tried to figure out a plan.

“You had them all believe that wizards are evil and Satan´s adjutants, didn´t you? But in reality, you´re just like us.” Your eyes wandered back to your father, his explanation was so simple and logical. Yet, it was the first time it crossed your mind and the image imprinted in your mind, had blinded you before.

“You´re just like him, you´re like Voldemort”, you spit out, but immediate regret followed. The sudden movement brought even more pain from your wound and you hissed. Albrecht on the other hand, only chuckled lowly.

“A big name for such a little girl, but as you can tell; I prefer it to operate in a much more considered manner. I like to stay in the shadows. No one should know my name, until it is too late for them!”

For several seconds, all hoped seemed lost. Strength was draining from your body, your father wasn´t even strong enough to hold a sword and Fred´s magic was useless inside the walls.

Oh, Fred.

Your eyes found his, tears rolling down your cheeks. Why did you bring them with you? What if he died, just because of you? He saw the repentance shinning in the dark´s of your orbs. Without any words he shook his head. No, he didn´t regret coming with you at all. If you fate laid here in the fortress or if it was on the other end of the world, he´d always follow you.

“Any last words? Even though they won´t be printed in any books?”

“Let´s not act stupid!” Hendrik´s loud voice echoed through the room and you felt your stomach drop in relieved. Together with August he attacked Albrecht, a battle between swords and magic escaped.

George fell to his knees, helping his brother get up. Ruth slide across the room, ducking away from the fight and finding your side. But you stubbornly shook your head at your sister, gesturing towards the king. “Him first!” You urged.

Ruth nodded, not arguing and inspecting your father´s condition.

Albrecht was taken back by the sudden appearance of the Silberstein siblings and both of your brother´s were excellent fighter. As Albrecht tried to strike forward, luckily you had a good view on his movement pattern.

“Expelliarmus!” You yelled from across the room and disarmed Albrecht, who was then thrown to the ground by Hendrik. August had previous cut him on his leg, which made him wobble to one side.

Ruth had taken a healing potion out of Madame Pomfrey infirmary, and it seemed to be working rather quickly, King Michael lifted himself out of the bed. Paul hurried to his side; the king was still weakened after months of poisoning.

“This time, I´ll make sure you won´t survive Richter!”

Hendrik exchanged looks with his brother, this would take some more explaining at a later point.

King Michael grabbed Richter and fetched his wand from his coat, apparently, he had the wand with him at all times. Then he spun it in his hand just like you had used to, until the king´s sword appeared. Richter let out nothing but a small, pitiful groan, as blood started dripping from his mouth.

The sword had gone right through his torso.

First cheers sounded from Theresa and Ruben, but you barely comprehended them.

Darkness grew in your vision, which became blurrier and you felt your limbs falling asleep. Only seconds after Richter´s dead body fell to the side, you felt yourself fainting.

“Y/n!” At last, it was Fred´s voice, that you heard and his soft eyes staring down to you, before blackness swallowed you whole.

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tags: @ britishspidey @ perfectlysane24  @ acoolnight

[dothwrites]

i love your writing! i would love to see you write a Dean/Cas "getting together" fic with maybe... #15 *Don’t tempt me* :D :D

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google doth, always taking prompts!

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It’s been four days since the moving van appeared on the street like a mirage, and Dean has yet to see the poor sap who bought 401 Kripke Drive. 

The house is a damn eyesore and it’s been that way for years. Dean’s complained about it to the homeowner’s association, along with several others, but he never got any answer other than a vague The owner appreciates your concern and something will be done about the property soon. Meanwhile, the shutters were rotting and the grass in front of the property was tall enough to play a game of Jumangi in. Dean’s seen a few intrepid raccoons slithering around the property and he’d be willing to bet that there are snakes in that tall grass. Snakes. He shudders as he finishes the touches on his own (pristine) lawn. 

Not that he’s become a Stepford Smiler whose only concern is his lawn, but...Look, it’s good to have a nice lawn. It gives the right impression, plus it boosts property values. And what’s the point in having a house if you’re not getting equity out of it? 

Which is why Dean is so excited that finally someone’s bought the dilapidated two story at the end of the street. Finally, he can stop wincing whenever he invites Sam and Jess over. He waits, in eager anticipation, to catch sight of the person who Dean’s come to think of as his personal savior. Failing that, he waits to see the taming of the lawn or the painting and re-siding of the house or...anything. 

He waits. And he waits. 

After a week with no progress, he’s tired of waiting. He quickly whips up a non-offensive lemon cake (no pie; pie is for people who mow their lawns and don’t ruin his property values) and treks down the street to greet the new neighbor. 

“What do you have there?” his neighbor, Jody shouts. She’s being a good neighbor and planting her yearly marigolds in her front (landscaped) lawn. “You going to see the new guy?”

“Yeah. Why, have you seen him?” This is good. Up until just a few minutes ago, Dean didn’t know that it was even a guy who had moved in. 

Jody smiles. Everything about her screams I know something you don’t know. What’s worse is, from experience, Dean knows that she’s not going to share. “Sure have,” is all that she says. She smiles a Cheshire cat grin at him. 

“Yeah, thanks for nothing,” Dean mutters as he heads over to 401. 

The walk towards the front door is a perilous prospect. The sidewalk is pitted with holes and loose gravel decorates the surface. Grass and weeds tenaciously rip at the concrete, making the surface uneven. Dean has to watch his step in order to avoid tripping, which is probably a gift in the long run. It keeps him from noticing how the rotted shutters dangle from the windows, held on by a single, dedicated screw, or how the ugly grey paint is peeling away from the house, like it can’t bear to be there a second longer. The front steps creak alarmingly under his weight and Dean quickly makes his way up them and across the front porch. He tries to keep light on his feet, not wanting to crash through. 

No doorbell. There’s just an ominous, lion’s head door knocker. Dean takes it in hand and lets it fall several times. The sound echoes. 

After a few minutes, Dean’s ready to give up. It’s possible that the mysterious neighbor isn’t here. There’s no car in the driveway. Maybe he came all this way for nothing. 

The door (wood chipped in several places, paint coming off of it in long, jagged stripes) creaks open. 

Wow, that’s some pretty strong hash, is Dean’s first thought followed by Oh shit, because those are some seriously blue eyes looking back at him. 

Then Dean gets a look at the whole package and Oh shit starts to war with Of fucking course. Blue Eyes’ owner is just as unkempt as his house, in a loose linen shirt that hangs off of his frame just enough to tease at the existence of rock hard muscles without ever revealing any. His pants look similarly like they’re a size too big, clinging to his hips by nothing more than sheer willpower. Dark hair hangs loose over the man’s forehead and the whites surrounding those arresting blues have a fine spiderweb of red running through them. Dark stubble scruffs up a jawline that, given the right circumstances, looks sharp enough to cut glass. Everything about the man is rumpled, like he went one too many times through the wash and no one bothered to hang him up to dry afterward before shoving him in a forgotten drawer. 

“Can I help you?” The voice that rasps from the body takes Dean aback--It’s deep, hoarse, like he...Well, maybe like he smokes a fuckton of weed every day. 

“Dean. Hi. I’m Dean. I’m your neighbor. I live down the lane at 416? I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” The cake is cumbersome in Dean’s arms. Having seen the derelict who bought this house, he’s not sure whether he wants to take himself and his cake screaming back to his house or to drop to his knees right here on the man’s front porch. Welcome to the neighborhood indeed. 

The man blinks, like he’s taking the time to parse every word for hidden meaning. It could just be that’s stoned out of his mind, but Dean doesn’t think so. Behind the haze of the weed, there’s a sharpness in his eyes that Dean doesn’t often see. The man taps his chin, his eyes flicking up and down Dean’s body. Dean doesn’t think that he’s imagining it when they linger on his lips. “I see. Hello Dean.” 

Something warm and pleased curls in Dean’s belly at hearing his name spoken by that voice. He does his best to push it aside, concentrating on the reason why he came. (Weeds, jungle lawn, peeling paint, wonder how he tastes, wonder how he sounds) “Yeah, anyway, friendly advice? I just wanted to let you know that our Homeowner’s Association are a bunch of hardasses (lies), and they’re going to get on you for the way that your lawn looks (more lies). If you want, I could pop over one Saturday morning and help you take care of it (where the hell is this generosity coming from?).” 

The man looks at his lawn and then back at Dean. A vague sort of smile creeps across his face. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d think that he was being laughed at. “Well, I thank you for the offer, but I have no interest in mowing my lawn. Uninhibited growth encourages local bee populations, as do many of what you would call weeds. So thanks, but no thanks.” 

The rejection is delivered so pleasantly that it takes Dean a while to realize that he’s been shot down. When he finally makes that connection, he sputters. “You can’t...” He points one finger at Blue Eyes (asshole didn’t even tell him his name, and now Dean is forced to use one of his best physical attributes to describe him?) and spits, “You need to mow your damn lawn!” 

On that rejoinder, he stalks down the stairs, jumping when one creaks underneath his weight. Asshole (Dean refuses to think of him with any sort of admiration) calls after him, “Don’t I get my cake?” 

Dean whirls around, narrowly avoiding falling flat on his ass. “Cake is for people who aren’t dicks!” he shouts, before he stalks towards home, through grass so thick that it clings to his ankles. 

---

The lawn at 401 Kripke Drive remains uncut. The house remains unpainted. The shutters continue on their slow journey towards the earth. Asshole (Castiel, Dean discovers, through the truly formidable stalking talents of one Becky Rosen) continues to allow his property to languish in a state of neglect, as he...Dean’s not sure what he does exactly. Keeps to himself and doesn’t spend a second thinking about the rest of these poor bastards who have to live with the sight of his ungodly property. 

When the grass becomes a height that Dean would estimate as ‘mid-calf’, he acts. 

Saturday morning, he putters down the street with his mower and pretends like he doesn’t see several curtains flicking back to watch him. Let them stare. Cowards. He, Dean Winchester, is personally going to save the property values and curb appeal of Kripke Drive. 

His mower isn’t quiet, nor does Dean make any attempt to lessen his noise, so it’s really remarkable that it takes Cas a good forty-five minutes to stumble out of his house. By that point, Dean’s already finished up with the front and side yards and is happily working his way through the back yard. 

“What...What the hell?” 

Dean glances over to see the source of the complaints. When he does, his step stutters and falters. It’s almost enough to knock him off of his stride, which is impressive, seeing that he was fairly single-minded in his mission. 

Castiel is clad in nothing more than boxers and a threadbare robe, which flutters open whenever he moves, revealing miles of tanned skin. His hair sticks up at odd angles and his stubble could best be described as aggressive. His eyes look clear, but they also look angry. 

Swallowing hard, Dean settles for giving Castiel a cheeky wave, as he turns around to make another pass of his lawn. 

This does not have the desired effect (Castiel thanks Dean for performing a necessary function of homeownership and goes inside to make a heaping breakfast, which they will consume together while discussing their plans for wedded bliss). Instead Castiel marches across the lawn in his bare feet and stands in front of Dean. Dean, not so focused on yard work that he can’t appreciate when he’s about to take off a man’s toe, releases the kill switch on the mower. 

Castiel takes the opportunity to advance on Dean (it is not hot the way that he does that, or the way that he pushes himself up on the balls of his feet to erase the scant inch or so difference in their height, not hot at all). His finger pokes into Dean’s chest. This close, Dean can smell him. He still smells like weed, but instead of being eye-wateringly overpowering, it’s just a comfortable, earthy scent, mixed with something sweeter and brighter--his shampoo maybe? 

“I said, what the hell are you doing?” 

Dean looks at the lawn and then back at Castiel. He makes a valiant effort not to look at Castiel’s chest, specifically where the robe has opened to reveal the edges of one, dusky nipple. He fails, but he thinks that he should be commended for making the effort to begin with. 

“I’m doing you a favor,” Dean says, wincing when Castiel digs his finger into his chest further. He was right--there are a lot of muscles in that frame. 

Castiel goes still with rage. “A favor?” he finally asks, voice soft and dangerous. “I specifically said that I wasn’t interested in having my lawn mowed. The bee populations--”

“Oh what the hell Cas,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “Look, if you care that much, we can go to Home Depot later this afternoon and pick out some bee friendly flowers. Hell, I’ll even help you plant them.” 

Castiel doesn’t say anything to this, though his eyebrow does quirk up in what appears to be interest. Dean takes this as his opportunity. “If you want, I can even help you build a place where you could keep a hive. If you want.” (He’s never built an apiary in his goddamn life, but surely there are videos on youtube that tell you how to do that?) 

“You mowed my lawn,” Castiel says, but he doesn’t sound angry about it. More...considering? He tilts his head to the side. “Were you planning on painting the house as well?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” Dean answers. The shudder that shakes through his body is only halfway exaggerated. “It’s a whole fucking disaster Cas.” 

Castiel hums. This time, when his eyes land on Dean’s lips, he lets them linger. 

Dean doesn’t do anything to stop him. 

(After Dean finishes mowing the lawn, Castiel greets him with a mug of coffee. He’s still dressed in his robe. Dean brings the coffee mug inside. It takes him a while to find his way out of the house. They don’t make it to Home Depot that day, but they do manage to make it to a dinner the next morning for breakfast. Dean does eventually help Castiel plant his flowers, though zoning regulations prohibit apiaries.

Painting the house takes a little longer because Castiel persists in looking so damn good in a pair of jeans that Dean gets distracted. A lot. After blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids are shed, the house gets painted, but by then, it’s time to fix the front steps. After that, the whole damn porch needs to be replaced. Dean keeps on finding chores to do around the house, so many in fact, that he eventually just moves in.

Was this your plan all along? he asks, lying on the floor with Cas as he stares up at the (newly finished) ceiling. 

Cas lets a plume of smoke escape from his nose and smiles. Yes, it was always my plan to seduce you with unsolicited yard work. I always knew that a madman would come mow my lawn and I just wanted it to be you.  

Don’t fucking tempt me, Dean says, and then there’s not a lot of talking for quite some time.)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

[emidori-crossing]

ACNH: Emidori Island

This is the tumblr that will chronicle my soothingly mundane days spent on Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Shortly after I began working from home due to the pandemic, I decided to get a Switch - mostly for the sake of playing ACNH. I didn’t want to splurge on the full system though, so I got the Switch Lite - I managed to find the very last one available at my local Target - and even in my choice color of yellow! You can see my ACNH passport as my blog banner image, shows my start date and all that.

My Switch friend code is SW-1261-8943-4808, which anyone is welcome to use :)

So I’m Lora. I’ve named my island Emidori - it’s a combination of the Japanese words for “smile” (emi) and “green” (midori). It’s a name I made up years ago when writing a story about a Shinto priestess whose shrine is dedicated to a juniper kami by that name.

So here’s me at the Emidori airport, where you can see the flag I designed. Looks weird maybe, but I think it looks “flag”ish, if you know what I mean - kinda like something you’d see on an old-timey heraldic crest. The inspiration - since Emidori is named for a happy green juniper tree spirit - is a tree with roots showing, its canopy made out of hearts. The blue and yellow bands at the side are just there because I thought the design looked too plain without it.

Here’s the layout of Emidori currently. We’ve come a long way since April! On my island (left-right, top-bottom) are Leopold, my roommate Deanna, Whitney, Biff, Huck, Shari, Broffina, Stu, Tucker, Piper, and Alice. Biff and Shari were my first neighbors. I’ve also had Portia and Audie (edit: and Bea! I knew I was forgetting someone; edit again: AND KNOX, geez, there really have been a lot!), who have moved away. My roommate and I have dibs on our favorite neighbors who, no matter what, are never going to be advised to leave. Her favorite right now is Shari. 

My favorite is Biff - which is unusual for me. I don’t usually like the jock types because I’m not really into fitness and they so often have those angry eyebrows that I don’t find cute. But he’s so fun and enthusiastic and encouraging. And I think in ways he reminds me of my boyfriend, because though my bf is not a jock, he is fitness-minded and likes to be active and tries to encourage me to be too. I’ll often screenshot Biff’s dialogue or letters and show them to my bf later and we’ll have a good giggle over them.

Here’s the outside of my house. I have the main room and two side rooms at the moment. I’m a little behind my friends and family as far as house development because a lot of time and money was going toward redoing the layout of the town - moving every island building into the arrangement that we have now. But I’m happy with the results.

I have a basic personal garden - hyacinth have a nice rainbow-range of colors, and I do like having grass to run around on and put furniture on. My roommate carpets almost every inch of her property in flowers - it’s quite a sight to see! But that will come later.

Pool, picnic table, and pizza oven seem a pretty ideal yard to me. There’s also an exercise bike out of frame to the left. I do that when I play Sims too - I like the idea of using exercise equipment like that outdoors. I put the clothesline in because I think it gives a homey feel.

This is the main room of my house, doubling as a bedroom and living room at the moment. I like to coordinate furniture, but I also like to take advantage of pieces I think are super cool, even if they don’t match everything else. 

That Girl with the Pearl Earring is a fake. I give the real ones to the museum, but I am actually equally happy getting fakes because then I feel more free to put them in my home. And from here, you can’t really tell it’s fake anyway.

I was ABSURDLY EXCITED to find that hamster in the store on one of my first days playing. I didn’t know there’d be pets of any kind besides the critters you can catch. And since I have guinea pigs IRL, the hamster is a great addition to my home :D His name is Mori, after my one boy piggie. (I have four girl piggies).

The pinball machine I got recently, and it’s extra cool to me, because it’s a baseball pinball machine. My bf and I go to these conventions where they have rooms full of pinball machines and arcade cabinets that are free unlimited play with price of ticket, and the baseball pinball is my favorite! And even more appropriate: it was a gift from Biff.

That’s the highest level workbench I have at the moment. My roommate has the bigger design, but this one is fine for me right now with the space that I have. (That phonograph is faced the wrong way around so that I see it from the front every time I enter the house).

(This room’s theme music is Wandering)

I turned my first expansion into a kitchen. I’d already been collecting every cool kitchen gadget I could find. And I always like the idea IRL of a yellow kitchen, so that’s the basic theme I went with. I’m REALLY anxious to get more food items. I have so many fun food items in Pocket Camp, and virtually zero in NH. 

I only just last week got the Cutting Board and Ironwood Dresser recipes. I have had the Ironwood Kitchenette recipe for months now, but hadn’t been able to make it until just recently.

(That’s a vacuum to the left in picture two. And I don’t care that the boombox is blue, because I can’t even see it when I walk in the room anyway.)

(This room’s theme music is K.K. Waltz)

The bathroom is the most recent addition to my house. It’s slightly eclectic, but I think the colors all look nice together. Yes, that is wedding flooring and wallpaper, and yes the toilet rug is made of cherry blossom petals. And that gold rose is from my roommate - she’s got a ton of black roses and has recently been trying her gold watering can on them.

(This room’s theme music is K.K. Sonata)

So that’s my basic introduction. Later today, I’ll be posting about my “today” on Emidori. Feel free to send me a Switch friend request :D

[warofshadowstheorder]

Chapter 04

The flow of the Atlantic Ocean was calm and steady.  Airplanes flew overhead as different boats and ships floated by on their way to various destinations.  Underneath the waves, the various marine life forms that populated it went about their daily lives and saw to their needs.  In the sky, a Peregrine Falcon gracefully and swiftly soared through the air.  It flew through the sky and away from the populous nations that surrounded it.

The bird’s path instead led it far away from the nearest logical established landing place and far into the Atlantic in a region very seldom traveled.  An island measuring five miles around, located approximately 100 miles northwest of Ireland, shrouded in mist was the bird’s final destination.

The falcon flew directly into a mist off the coast of the island and perched on a high tower.  The tower was a parapet that was part of a 20-foot high wall encircling the island like a giant snake protectively coiling around its eggs beginning approximately 20 yards inland with the Atlantic Ocean forming a natural moat.  The island varied in elevation, the lowest points being by the ocean, the rest of it was mainly rises that rose into hills and back down again.  The highest part took up most of the northwestern, northern, and northeastern sectors of the island.  It was a mountain rising up to 3,000 feet with a prominent ridge at 1,200 feet.  The locals called the mountain Mount Titus, the ridge they called Gideon Ridge.  Together, they formed an impenetrable barrier from the part of the island.

There was a large quarry not much farther inland from Mount Titus.  Several teenage boys were inside hard at work harvesting ore, under the supervision of a few older men.   Not far beyond that was a mine shaft with more teenage boys occasionally entering and emerging from it.  On the western coast of the island, there was a small hydroelectric plant set up that used the flow of the ocean to generate electricity.  Further inland, various structures dotted the landscape.  Several homes ranging in size so that the human inhabitants could see over the wall surrounding the island were the most numerous.  In the midst of the homes were a few other buildings dedicated to various tasks.  All of the homes and buildings branched out from a prominent hill, whose peak was dominated by a large breathtaking church built after the manner of a Gothic Cathedral.

The soil on the island was the most fertile imaginable.  Over parts of the island not taken up by man made structures corn, potatoes, turnips, spinach, lettuce, carrots, apples, oranges, and various other forms of vegetation thrived alongside cattle, horses, chickens, pigs, and other animals grazing freely over seemingly endless fields of grass.  On another part of the island falcons, pigeons, doves, and numerous kinds of birds flew through the air; sailing on the winds before perching on some of the various trees in the dense woodland that began just after where Mount Titus ended.

The island was a hive of activity.  Little children ran around playing in the warm open air.  Elsewhere, activities ranging from boxing training to lessons on Renaissance art and how to cultivate the various kinds of plants found all over the island were in progress.

One of the buildings inside the Monastery was a dormitory with various bedrooms on multiple floors.  Nearby was a dining facility with a kitchen and an adjoining area for people to eat.  A few different gymnasiums were close by as well.

The Cathedral was the focal point of the island, with the chapel at the center.  The chapel consisted of pews for a congregation, an organ, and a podium for a speaker with an elaborately carved symbol consisting of a red background with a dark colored circle on top with four white beams inside of it in a plush shape extending from the center to the edges.  Another part of the Cathedral housed the chambers of the one they called the Apostle, who oversaw everything, and was also used for some specific rituals.  Another room was something unique to the monastery.

At the top of a high tower was an empty room except for several large cauldrons placed all along the floor.  The cauldrons were black with large handles on either side and filled with water.  Besides the handles there was nothing particularly unique about them other than their mere presence.

The room was still and quiet, with a black duffel bag resting on the ground near the front.  By the duffel bag was a small table where two young women dressed in dark gowns resembling Habits without Wimples sat.

The woman sitting closest to the cauldrons had long red hair and beautiful blue eyes.  The other woman had long light blonde hair and big chocolate brown eyes.  The brunette, Alicia Bruce, waited with barely contained patient anticipation.  The blonde was her friend Sara.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be here?” Sara asked slightly concerned with a Dutch accent.

“Until he gets back,” Alicia answered in a Scottish brogue with a tone reflecting the fact that she’d been in that room for several hours, “I have Gifted McAllister looking after the boys and I don’t want to be relieved until my Odin gets back.”

“You sure do love him, don’t you?” Sara asked with a hint of admiration.

“He’s the man of my dreams,” Alicia answered “I hope that someday you can find the man of yours.”

“Some of us aren’t as fortunate as you,” Sara said, “the perfect man isn’t just brought into the Order and then given a love-struck girl to show him around the place.”

“Oh please,” Alicia said, “I completely loathed him when he first got here.  I didn’t like how he was cocky and arrogant and such a smart-aleck.  But,” she got a far-off wistful look on her face, “in time I got to see that he had dedication, persistence, and charm as well, and that when taken together…he was everything a girl could ask for.”

“Hmm,” Sara said, “if the first step to having the man of your dreams is to loathe him, then I should say that I have a good start with about half the Knights here.”

The two of them laughed heartily and were almost at the point of tears when they heard a sound like a rock splashing into a pond emanate from the nearest cauldron.  They both paused and looked at the cauldron, ripples forming in the water.

“You take it,” Sara said, “we both know that you would rather get the news than me.”

Alicia smiled and walked over to the cauldron.  She pulled back the sleeve on her robe and put her arm into the water.  She felt around at the bottom of the cauldron until feeling a rock resting there.  A watertight bag with a note inside was wrapped around the rock.  She undid the rope and read the note:

Dieter and Olcán in USA, convenience.

Alicia’s heart sank enough that it was visible to Sara as she read the note.  She walked up and gently took the note from Alicia.

“Do we have any higher priorities right now?” Sara asked.

“Not at the moment,” Alicia answered, “we should have time to bring them back.”

“Okay,” Sara said, “I’ll prepare the cauldron.”

Sara walked to the cauldron.  She then put the tip of her finger into the water, closed her eyes, and concentrated.  After a few moments, she slowly moved her finger in a crisscross pattern before stirring it in the center.

After removing her finger, she opened her eyes.  She looked into the water and saw it begin to swirl in a whirlpool motion before stopping and moving back and forth.  In a moment, the reflection of the water began to change and distort until the image in the water was of a tiled ceiling and what appeared to be a storage area in someone’s basement.

In a moment, she saw Dieter’s face in the water.  He looked into her face and a smile made its way across his features.

“Guten tag Sara,” Dieter said into the water, “you’re just looking for any excuse to see me naked aren’t you?”

“Just keep telling yourself that spierkop,” Sara answered, “Alicia and I are here and right now you two are our top priority.”

“Olcán’s right here,” Dieter said, “und we are on our way over.”

“Fine,” Sara said slightly annoyed, “we have your Brussels package here, and tell Olcán we’ll have a towel and clothes for him.”

“Well stand back,” Dieter said with a smile, “because you know that I am too much of a man to not cause an overflow.”

“Yeah,” Sara said rolling her eyes, “your ego takes up too much space.”  She then stepped back from the cauldron before Dieter could say anything else.

A moment later Dieter rose out of the cauldron, with a significant amount of water splashing out as he did so.  He came up with a gasp and shook some of the water off his head before rubbing his eyes, the water dripping off his immensely muscled body as he stepped out of the cauldron.

Many of the people at the Monastery, including Sara much to her chagrin, were so impressed with Dieter’s physique that they thought he looked like a comic book character or some kind of Hellenic deity.  Every inch of his body was solid muscle and looked like he had been sculpted out of pure Granite.  His body was so chiseled that it seemed as though someone had made a conscious effort to organize each muscle so that they weren’t crowded together.

His body was adorned with ten geometric symbols on his shoulders, chest, back, and abdomen.  He also had a tattoo on his left forearm that read:

124872

לעולם לא

The most prominent mark was a large black circle over the left side of his chest.  It had been burned onto his skin, the borders of the dark circle surrounded his flesh.  Within the circle, four beams extended from a smaller circle to the borders of the larger one.

He was completely naked with the exception of a metal Star of David medallion with each corner fashioned into a razor-sharp blade around his neck.  It was three inches high, an inch and a half wide, and an inch thick.  It had a silver color, with the exception of red beams that rose above the middles of the beams that made up the Star with a prominent rise and point at the center of the symbol.

“Like what you see,” Dieter said confidently to Sara, who threw the duffel bag at him.

“Just hang tight,” she said, “you have to join Duncan in Brussels for your assignment as soon as Olcán gets back and I can get the water prepared.”

“I love how you are able to mask your feelings for me,” Dieter said confidently as he walked forward to take the duffel bag, not bothering to dry off.

“Whatever,” Sara said, “Nigel says not to bother cleaning Bathsheba or Solomon since he took care of that for you.”

“Ah,” Dieter sighed wistfully, “I will have to thank him personally when I get back.”

“In the meantime,” Sara said trying to sound disgusted, “do us all a favor and cover up.”

Just as she said that, Olcán came out of the cauldron in a similar fashion to how Dieter had earlier.  Olcán also had a muscular build, but it was more trim and toned compared to Dieter’s large and chiseled form.

He had the same marks on his body that Dieter did, in addition to nine more.  His medallion was in the shape of a Celtic Cross with red beams and bladed corners similar to Dieter’s.

Several scars also adorned his body, including a long jagged one up his right side, and a smaller one over his heart.  He also had a Japanese character burned onto the base of his neck and wore Odin’s crucifix next to his own.  Olcán climbed out of the cauldron as Sara tossed him a towel.

“Go raibth maith agat Sara,” Olcán said as he dried off his face and ran his hands through his flat hair to put it back up into a flattop.

“I’m not surprised to see you here,” Olcán said when his eyes found Alicia, “don’t worry, Odin should be fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Alicia breathed out, “when the note said that it was just you and Dieter I thought that…”

“He is just going to be a little late,” Dieter chimed in, “he volunteered to stay behind and distract the authorities who were there while Olcán und I slipped out.”

“Do you have any idea how long he’ll be?” Alicia asked concerned as she took the crucifix Olcán handed her into her hand and held it tight.

“We told him that the longer he was away, the more worried he would make you,” Dieter responded, “but you know as well as I do that how long he stays locked up is his decision.”

“He’s in jail?!” Alicia shrieked out catching Dieter and Sara completely off-guard.

“Jah,” Dieter replied after a moment, “but we got the message out that he will need legal counsel, so he will be fine.”

“I’m sure he will,” Alicia said getting a smile on her face, “he always finds a way to get back here.”

Olcán smirked as he thought of his old friend and comrade and remembered some of the many missions the two of them had undertaken.  One particular event that he remembered with fondness was when they went on a mission to rural Mexico and had to go on the run afterwards.  They wound up in the desert eating whatever Rattlesnakes and other animals they could catch as they moved to where they could get back to the Monastery.

At about that time, Sara had again placed her finger into the water and gotten it back to normal.  She then put her finger back in and concentrated until the image in the water changed from a reflection of the room known as the Cauldron Chamber, to a cellar somewhere in Brussels.

“It’s ready now,” Sara called out, “now get out of here Dieter.”

“Auf wiedersehen,” Dieter said grabbing the bag, “try not to miss me too much fraulein.”

“I will manage,” Sara replied callously.  Dieter then jumped into the cauldron feet first holding the bag above his head.  He fell into the cauldron and didn’t stop dropping, and he didn’t come up in the monastery.  Sara looked into the water inside the cauldron and saw Dieter’s face in it looking back at her.

Once she saw that he had made it there, she put her finger back in the water and cleared it.  Olcán had already dried off and dressed in a black undershirt and shorts along with the dark Cossack that had been provided for him.

“Why’d you cut him off like that,” he asked, “you’re supposed to wait for him to confirm his safe arrival?”

“I probably should,” Sara answered, “but I don’t want to give him a chance to talk more than he already does.”

“Hmpf,” Olcán lightly grunted, “I imagine the Apostle wants to see me?”

“You imagine right,” Sara answered, “you should probably tell Chloe and the boys that Odin will be delayed.”

“I’ll do that,” Olcán replied as he walked up to Alicia and gently put his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll see you around Alicia.”

“Thanks Olcán,” she said as she softly put her hand on top of his, “I’m glad that my Odin has a friend like you.”

He then left the room and made his way down a stone staircase a short distance from the door.  He walked down the staircase slowly, knowing that he didn’t need to hurry.  He got to the bottom of the stairs and walked through the back end of the chapel to a staircase leading to the Apostle’s chambers, stopping for a moment to look into the chapel.

The chapel was very simple, but it was all that the residents of the Monastery needed.  The floor was made of stone, as were all the floors in the Monastery that weren’t earth, and the pews were simple wooden hand-carved benches.  An organ rested behind the makeshift pulpit, and stands for a choir were on either side of it.  Despite its simple nature, the atmosphere inside the chapel instilled feelings of reverence, humility, and solemnity in the hearts of anyone inside.

The only somewhat elaborate decoration similar to something that would be in a similar structure was a large circle carved out of a thick block of wood with the center removed.  Four beams forming the shape of a plus sign extended from the edge of the circrcle, they converged on a solid dark circle in the middle of the larger one.forming the emblem of the Order.

Olcán looked to the front of it and paused for a moment to let the feeling of the place sink in.  He thought for a while about what he had done, and what he would continue to do, in the service of the organization he belonged to and the ones he served.  After a while, Olcán genuflected and walked across the chapel to ascend the stairs to the other tower.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw a familiar face coming out of the only door.  It was a man about his age and height, with long brown hair down to just past his shoulder blades.  He was very handsome, and had a dashing appearance akin to figures depicted in swashbuckling films and books.  He also had alluring grey eyes.

“Dang it Tadeas,” Olcán said, “when are you going to get a real haircut?”

“I’ll get a ‘real’ haircut,” Tadeas answered with a sly smile and accent-free voice while making quotation marks with his fingers, “about the same time that you fail a mission.”

“If that’s true,” Olcán retorted, “then your hair will be tickling your heels before you know it.”  The two of them laughed and then hugged.

“It’s great to see you again,” Olcán said after they came apart, “how did your assignment in London go?”

“Jolly good,” Tadeas answered with a perfect English accent, “it was difficult to find the targets,” he reverted to his real voice, “but after Jamuike and I found their hideout the rest was pretty easy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Olcán responded, “is Jamuike in there now?” he asked gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” Tadeas answered, “the Apostle wanted to go over a few things with him before we left.  You caught me on my way out.”

Tadeas and Olcán had gone on several missions and a few holidays together.  They both had pictures together from various parts of the world they had visited.  One favorite of theirs was them standing on the Great Wall of China wearing old-time Chinese hats.  They were disappointed that they didn’t get to see as much of each other as they would have liked, but they did their best to make up for it whenever they got an opportunity.

“Are you planning on staying here for your next holiday,” Olcán asked, “or are you going somewhere off the island?”

“Olcán,” Tadeas said calmly as he patted his old friend on the back, “when have you ever known me to stay around here when I have holiday time?”

“Touché brother,” Olcán answered, “where do you think you’ll go this time?”

“I’ve wanted to go back to Monte Carlo for a while now,” Tadeas said, “I figure that now’s as good a time as any.  Are you up for a little Monte Carlo adventure?”

“Thanks,” Olcán said, “but I really don’t feel like traveling.  Besides, Odin got arrested on our last mission and…”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Tadeas asked rhetorically while rolling his eyes, “He’s got to learn to be less reckless and more focused.”

“Hey,” Olcán answered, “we all have our shortcomings.  Odin’s happens to be discretion.”

“We can both agree on that,” Tadeas said, “but I’m sorry for interrupting you, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that while Odin’s gone I should really stick around and help Chloe with the boys while Alicia’s waiting for him.  Plus, I should check up on Declan and see how much he’s progressing.”

“All work and no play Olcán,” Tadeas said “you shouldn’t take yourself so seriously.”

“I don’t,” Olcán answered as the door to the Apostle’s office opened, “but I take this work very seriously.  Jamuike.”

Olcán greeted a large black man with a shaved head and muscular build who came out of the office.  Jamuike had had a serious look on his face when he came out, but at the sight of Olcán and his greeting, he immediately brightened up.

“Olcán,” he said in a Nigerian accent as the two of them shook hands and patted each other on the back with their free hands, “I take it the American assignment went well.”

“It did,” Olcán replied, “the only damper is that Odin got arrested when we were trying to get out of the hot zone.”

“Really,” Jamuike asked surprised, “does he have an escape plan?”

“We took some precautionary measures when we loaded up for it,” Olcán replied, “so I have every confidence that he’ll get out fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jamuike answered, “if he’s away too long Alicia will kill him when he finally does get back.  Worst case scenario, she’ll have the kids take her name.”

“I doubt it will come to that,” Olcán said, “but he should be getting back soon enough.”

“Olcán,” a voice came from behind Jamuike, “coe in here please.”

“I guess you’d better get in there,” Jamuike said, “the Apostle has been expecting you.”

“Right,” Olcán turned to face Tadeas and patted his shoulder, “I’ll see you when you get back.  Have fun in Monte Carlo.”

“Thanks,” Tadeas said as he patted Olcán on the back, “I hope you have fun hanging out around the island.”  Olcán smirked and then turned to Jamuike.

“Always nice to see you Jamuike.”

“Same to you Olcán,” Jamuike answered.

Olcán walked through the door Jamuike had been holding open and heard it close behind him.  The chambers of the Apostle, unlike the chapel, were adorned with various decorations.  The most prominent features were three large paintings and two other wall decorations.  One of the paintings was a depiction of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” in a condition that appeared as though it was fresh from the artist’s canvas.  Another was a depiction of a man dressed in Roman armor with a shield and long spear, and a black man almost as large as Dieter holding a sword with a flaming blade facing some kind of huge monster in a barricaded area near a small village.

The third painting depicted a man kneeling on top of a high cliff overlooking a vast ocean.  The man on his knees had the sword from the other picture resting on top of his hands while a majestic celestial being standing before him reaching forward to take it.

The other wall decorations were two large plaques with an elaborate collection of symbols engraved on the top portions.  Several nameplates were underneath the symbols, along with more adjoining plaques with additional nameplates.  One of the plaques had considerably more names than the other.

A dazzling array of different artifacts from every region of the world, most of them priceless, decorated the walls and rested on several shelves around the Apostle’s chambers.

A man sat behind a desk set up at the far end of the room.  The man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties and had a full head of brown hair that reached down to the base of his neck, along with a short beard that matched the color of his hair.

His eyes were green and had a constant look of compassion and nurturing.  He spoke with a voice that was simultaneously calm and comforting but also strong.  He was sitting comfortably and smiled as Olcán entered.

“Olcán,” the man said standing up and pointing to a chair in front of the desk, “please have a seat.”

“Yes sir,” Olcán said as he gave a respectful half bow and sat down in front of the desk as the Apostle did the same.

“I was expecting Odin,” the Apostle said calmly with a strong voice, “but I’m sure that you will let me know why I have the pleasure of addressing you.  Now, you know what I want to hear, so let’s have it and we can both move on.”

“The mission was a complete success,” Olcán said in his usual tone, “the target was taken out and no one else.”

“Good,” the Apostle answered simply, “I have to commend you and the others on the execution of this mission.  When I first heard of it, I was worried about our chances of success.  The mission itself must have been difficult.”

“This is what I do sir,” Olcán answered with his usual tone, “and that man had to be taken out.  Anyone who makes a deal with the Devil has forfeited his right to share this world with those who follow God.”

“Do you hate them Olcán,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice mingled with mild concern.

Olcán was silent.  He sat still in his chair staring forward, never breaking eye contact with the man across from him.  The Apostle mirrored Olcán’s stare, knowing that eventually Olcán would answer his question.

“Sir,” Olcán answered still maintaining his usual tone, “you know that the mission is always my first priority.  I will never let any ill feelings I might have interfere with that.”

“I understand that,” the Apostle answered, “but I need to know that those ill feelings will not overpower you.  If we harbor anything apart from pure feelings, then we are no better than what we are called upon to fight.  It’s…”

“The price we pay for doing the work of God,” Olcán finished, “I know that sir, you’ve told me many times.  You know that I’m focused.”

“It’s not your focus that concerns me Olcán,” the Apostle answered, “but your motives.”

“They are pure sir,” Olcán said.

“And what of the other group that bears your disdain,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice with a hint of concern, “do you harbor ill feelings toward them as well?”

“I’ve come to terms with the past.” Olcán answered.

“Have you?” the Apostle asked making a slight gesture to Olcán’s right side earning a slight wince.

“I have enough,” Olcán answered quickly and spitefully.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking outside,” the Apostle said inwardly deciding to move on with the interview, “and your presence here rather than the man who was in charge of the operation prompts me to ask what happened to Odin.”

“Everything went as planned up to the escape,” Olcán said inwardly grateful to be moving on and returning to his usual tone, “Dieter was in his seat and made sure that there was validity in the voice recordings that we used.  But when we met up with him after the mission,” Olcán paused, obviously a little embarrassed at admitting what happened next,  “our exit route was blocked and we realized that there was no way we were going to be able to walk out without leaving the rifle or some innocent bodies behind.”

“I see,” the Apostle said, “and what was the result?”

“We realized,” Olcán continued, “that one of us was going to have to distract the security at least long enough for the rest of us to get out.  We knew that Dieter needed to be back here as soon as possible and couldn’t risk being caught.  Then Odin volunteered to go and I didn’t have time to argue with him.”

“I take it that Odin did the best he could at being a distraction,” the Apostle said already knowing the answer.

“And I ‘m sure that he is continuing to be a distraction in the penal system,” Olcán said, “I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping he gets back soon.”

“We all feel the same way,” the Apostle said, “but I am glad to know that the mission was successful.  I can only imagine what would have happened if he had become President.  I don’t know if we would have been able to stop him had he reached that point.”

“We would have found a way,” Olcán answered, “but it would have been a lot more difficult and probably with a larger body count.”

“That,” the Apostle replied, “is one of the many reasons why our Watchers are so invaluable to this organization.”

“They have their uses,” Olcán replied with a hint of resentment, “few though they may be.”

“Olcán,” the Apostle said firmly but doing his best to convey honest concern, “you can’t let what happened in the past forever control how you feel and act.  The past is gone, and it is essential that we learn from it., but you must live in the present.”

“My past,” Olcán responded, “is what has made my present.  I act the way I do because I have learned from the past.  I can’t help it if the results are somewhat undesirable.”

“Very well,” the Apostle said knowing full well from previous conversations that this issue wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, “you have two weeks of holiday starting tomorrow.”

“I will only take one,” Olcán answered in his usual strong voice.

“Do you want to spend it off the island?” the Apostle asked.

“No,” Olcán answered, “I’m fine here.”

“You concern me Olcán,” the Apostle said, “it’s been years since you’ve left the island for any reason other than a mission.  I encourage everyone here to use the resources we have to go out and see as much of this beautiful world as possible.  Why don’t you take advantage of this?”

“With all due respect sir,” Olcán answered in a respectful tone, “I have seen much of the world already, and I prefer to stay here.  I have all I could ever need right here, and I should help out with Xander, Angus, and Malcolm until Odin gets back.  I would also like to see how Declan is progressing in his training since I will be vouching for him soon.”

“I see your point,” the Apostle said, “although if you ever have some time when you have holiday and no obligations here, I suggest you tag along with Tadeas.”

“I will think about it,” Olcán answered.

“If you have nothing further to add,” the Apostle said, “you are dismissed.”

“Thank you sir,” Olcán said as he stood up and the Apostle did the same, “I will be around here if you need me for anything.”

“Enjoy your holiday,” the Apostle said, “with all you did for your last mission, you have certainly earned some time off.  May the light within…”

“Drive away the darkness without.”  Olcán replied before turning around, walking to the door, and beginning to open it.

“One more thing,” the Apostle called out to Olcán, “stop by the Combat Room.  O’Connell will want to know that you are back safely.”

“I will be sure to do that,” Olcán answered, “thanks for letting me know where he is.”

The Apostle nodded, and Olcán exited the chamber.  He walked back down the stairs and made his way over the grounds, overhearing teachers inside various classrooms as he passed them.  Some of them were talking about traditional subjects such as math, science, or history; others were talking about subjects as diverse as military history and modern vernacular.

He made his way across a patch of open ground where several people were sitting on benches reading, talking, and otherwise engaged.  Olcán moved by unnoticed until he was spotted by a small group of children.  Three skinny red-haired boys were out in the field playing together when they spotted him approaching.  In no time at all, the three boys ran over to Olcán and wrapped their arms around his neck.

“Hey boys,” Olcán said happily as he hugged the three boys when they came up to him.  They were Odin and Alicia’s three sons, Xander was nine, Angus seven, and Malcolm five.  They knew Olcán very well through his friendship with their father, and they all loved him.

“Have you been good for Gifted Murphy while your dad and I have been away?” Olcán asked the boys.

“Yes,” Xander answered in a voice that was equal parts Scottish and Australian while his younger brothers continued to squeeze Olcán, “is dad back yet?”

“No, not yet,” Olcán answered, careful to keep the same upbeat tone he had been using, “but he told me that he will be back soon.  Until he gets back, you three need to keep being good for Gifted Murphy and stay out of trouble.”

The three boys laughed and nodded, then Olcán stood up.  Malcolm and Angus continued holding onto him and laughed as they went up into the air with their arms wrapped around Olcán’s strong neck.  Olcán spun around once and then wrestled them to the ground, loosening their grip by tickling them until they released him.

“You boys go and play,” an older silver-haired woman said in an Irish accent, “Mr. Olcán needs to be going.”

The three boys laughed again before running off to another spot on the grounds and starting to play with some of the other kids.  Olcán walked up to the woman and the two of them embraced.

“Hello Gifted Murphy,” Olcán said once again speaking in Irish Gaelic, “was Xander telling the truth?”

“Oh yes,” she answered in the same language, “they’ve been perfectly well behaved.  They just have so much energy” she sighed, “I’m getting too old to handle children.”

“Please,” Olcán scoffed, “Odin’s boys can be a handful, but you’ll never be too old to handle children.  Mother Theresa would’ve had trouble with those boys.”

“That’s probably true,” she said laughing, “they’re so much like their parents.”

“What makes you say that?” Olcán asked.

“They’re wild and energetic like their father,” she said, “and at the same time they’re polite and well-behaved like their mother.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Olcán replied, “complementary opposites really do make for the best combinations.”  Gifted Murphy nodded.

“Are you going to see O’Connell?” she asked, Olcán nodded.  “I know he’ll want to be seeing you, go on down.”  Olcán gave her a kiss on the forehead and was on his way.

There was a staircase leading down inside the building adjacent to the open ground.  As he went down the stairs, he could hear the sounds of fists, feet, and legs hitting punching bags, jump ropes repeatedly striking the ground, several men yelling out instructions and criticisms, and bodies slamming onto mats.

Olcán got to the bottom of the stairs where a simple door stood against a wall of stone.  Above the door was an intricately carved wooden sign with the words “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” carved in large imposing letters and surrounded by relief-carved skulls with a large fire behind them.  Olcán pounded the sign with his fist before opening the door and walking into what was officially known in the Monastery as the Combat Room, but what Olcán and the others who trained there called The Pit.

Hard Rock and Heavy Metal music played over speakers throughout the room.  The walls were decorated with various posters.  Some were of boxers, including Olcán’s personal favorite Rocky Marciano.  Other posters showed Bruce Lee and other famous martial artists and MMA fighters.

Very little floor space in the room was visible.  There was a full-size boxing ring in one part, with a complete Mixed Martial Arts-style octagon-shaped cage at the other end.  There were four traditional punching bags, four Thai-style ones, a row of Mook Jongs, and half a dozen speed bags distributed about the room.  There was another area that was entirely matted where several men and boys of different ages were practicing rolls and throwing moves, wrestling and grappling each other in hard and almost inhumane brutal training.

The only feature in the room not specifically dedicated to combat training, was an interlocking series of wooden plaques with several name plates screwed on.

A few older men around the room were coaching and offering instruction.  Olcán walked toward a man a few inches taller than him with scraggly silver hair that went down to the base of his neck, a similar build to Olcán, and an appearance so grizzled that he looked as though he had been living in the woods since St. Oliver Plunkett's final sermon.  He was standing outside the boxing ring barking out instructions to a sixteen-year-old boy sparring inside.

“Keep your guard up,” the grizzled man barked out in an Irish brogue that matched his appearance, “chin down and hands up boyo, remember that!”

“You’d better do what he says,” Olcán spoke up loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “if you get him really mad he will jump in there himself and make sure that you never ignore him again.”

The man paused for a moment, and then looked at the stopwatch he was holding.

“Time!” he yelled out, “go in the corner and relax for a bit!  But don’t spend too much time sitting on your arse!”

“Little wolf,” the man said in Irish Gaelic after turning around to face Olcán.

“O’Connell” Olcán said and the two of them shared a strong embrace.

“So I take it that the mission was a success?” O’Connell asked continuing to speak in Gaelic.

“Now I thought you knew me better than that,” Olcán answered in Gaelic as they came apart, “after all, I was brought up by the best.”

“You give me too much credit Little Wolf,” O’Connell answered with a smile as he placed a hand on Olcán’s shoulder, “but I’m glad that whatever you learned from me you are putting to good use.”

“Absolutely,” Olcán said before turning to look into the ring and getting his first good look at the boy’s sparring partner, “Declan?”

“Oi master,” the sparring partner, a twenty year old boy with long red hair tied back in a braid and brown eyes said in an Irish accent, “when did you get back?”

“Just now,” Olcán answered, “what are you doing here?  Is this the best way you can get ready for your trials?”

“Oh no,” Declan said quickly and apologetically, “I had some time off and O’Connell asked if I could help him with Nathaniel for a while.”

“Okay,” Olcán said turning to face O’Connell, “once you’re through here would you mind if I take Declan off your hands for a while?”

“Not at all Little Wolf,” O’Connell said, he gave Olcán a smile then turned to face Declan and Nathaniel in the ring, “GO!”

He then hit the stopwatch and the two of them went back to sparring while Olcán watched and helped O’Connell with his advice and critiques.

[luv4fandoms]

Christmas Angel (Spn Gabriel X Reader)

@freakygirlforeve7-blog-blog. Suggested

So sorry this took so long, my house got a bit busy working on Christmas gifts and for some reason this story took me a bit to actually come up with lol. But I hope you enjoy it! 😊

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Words: 2,355

You wiped your eyes while you wandered around, the light snow falling softly, dusting your hair and shoulders as you called once more for your dog. How many years would this happen? How many more loved ones would you lose? You felt cursed, afraid that you were simply meant to be alone. The first year had been your grandmother, the next year, your beloved family cat (C/N), then your grandfather, then your oldest dog (D/N), then your aunt, and now your other dog (D/N), every year around Christmas you always lost someone close, and the weight of it crushed even the smallest spark of "Christmas spirit". 

The holiday was done for you, long since lost it's magic, and you dreaded it every year. Sighing, you sat down on a nearby park bench and tried to warm your hands. You had been looking for (D/N) for days, and still no trace of them, it was like they just vanished into thin air. While lost in thought, you hadn't noticed the stranger approach the bench, so it started you when a voice spoke up.

"Why so down sugarplum?" 

Looking up you were met with the most beautiful whiskey eyes.

"Oh...Um" you started, but couldn't find the words and couldn't break your gaze. He quirked an eyebrow, a small smirk gracing his lips while he watched you fumble for a sentence. Finally you seemed to find the willpower to stop staring and instead look at the ground.

"My dog is lost...So I'm out looking for them" You replied, fighting back the tears, you didn't need to break down in front of him. 

"Awe I'm so sorry sugar, how long have they been missing?" He asked, looking up at him again he looked genuinely concerned.

"A couple of days, I'm hoping...Since today had been the first day it snowed" you trailed off, not wanting to even voice your concerns, though, the way your life was...You knew that was the most likely of outcomes.

"Why don't I help you look for them?" He offered after a moment.

"Oh no it's ok really" 

"Nonsense buttercup" he dismissed you, before adding.

"Besides, with two people we're bound to find the pooch sooner right?" He smiled, you finally took a good look at the man; he looked like he was maybe in his early thirties, light golden brown hair, whiskey colored eyes, a gray t-shirt, leather jacket and blue jeans...honestly...He was hot. 

"I suppose you're right" you smiled back, standing from the bench.

"I'm (y/n)" you smiled

"My dog's name is (D/N)"

"Gabriel" he replied, coming to stand beside you.

"Let's start our search for the infamous (D/N)" he added with a wink and held out his arm for you. With a smile you took it and the two of you began your search. He asked you where you usually take your dog after the park, you replied with your old house, having grown up in that neighborhood, you still knew a lot of people there and visited often. While you both made your way towards the neighborhood, Gabriel made small talk, asking things like what kind of music did you like? Favorite foods? Simple things, you also found out he worked at a local college.

"So how come you moved?" He asked once you entered the neighborhood and began looking around for (D/N).

"My parents and I lived there with my grandma, it was my mom's childhood home, but after my grandmother passed, my mom said it was too painful living there...So we moved" You explained, remembering how your grandmother had been the first in this long line to pass.

"I'm sorry for your loss" he spoke while running his thumb over the hand that was still wrapped around his arm, surprisingly it helped hold back the tears.

"How long ago did she pass?"

"Six years" he nodded, both of you falling silent as you continued to walk, still searching for (D/N). You stopped a few moments later, looking up at the old house that held so many memories. You remembered growing up on that porch swing, taking the stairs inside two at a time much to your mother's worry. You remembered playing hopscotch on the driveway, coming home from school, learning to drive here...even having your first kiss on those very same front porch steps.

Gabriel dragged you from your swimming thoughts with a tap on the arm, looking over at him he pointed to the front gate which was open.

"I take it no one lives here soo...Worth a shot right?" He asked before pulling you into the yard to check around the house.

"I bet you always had a lot of fun around this time of the year" he stated from in front of you, still walking along the house.

"Why would you guess that?"You asked, honestly confused, he simply shrugged. Before answering.

"You just seem like the type who likes Christmas is all" he looked back at you with a smile, and in that moment you wondered if he was being honest, or teasing you about your sour disposition. But his words did bring back more memories, ones of you, your mother and grandmother all in the kitchen baking cookies and pies. It was something you all loved to do, and it became a tradition around Christmas time. You used to joke and say that you were going to grow up and become a baker...But lately you didn't have the drive to do much of anything...Feeling like it wouldn't even matter in the end. As you finished rounding the house, your shoulders slumped, still no sign of (D/N). Seeing your saddened expression, Gabriel rested his hand on your shoulder, causing you to once again get lost in his gaze.

"Hey, we still have plenty of daylight, let's keep looking" he smiled, you gave a small smile back before you both continued on your way, you explained that you would also walk (D/N) into town sometimes, so you both began walking towards town. Gabriel started up the simple conversations once more, it surprised you how easy it was to talk to him, like he was an old friend, it also surprised you how comfortable you were around him, a stranger you had only met  earlier that day. He was the jokester type, that was for sure, and he could easily put a smile on your face which he seemed to enjoy doing because every time your laughter would die down you would catch him staring at you, a small smile on his own lips.

"Come on! You have to have some big plans for the future. I know! An actress, no no, a model, ya know, why not both?" He teased after you had stated that you didn't know what to do in life. 

"I don't see either of those things in the cards for me" you gave a slight laugh, eyes looking forward at the lighted window displays inside each shop, the sun had set only a little bit ago, and now the town was lit by joyous Christmas scenes.

"Why not? You're beautiful enough" he replied, catching you off guard and your cheeks to reddened not just from the cold. Your eyes met his whiskey ones again, though this time the twinkling lights surrounding you both made them constantly shift between whiskey and honey, and you found yourself getting lost in them just as you had that morning. Gabriel was so far, as cliche as it sounded, what you had always looked for in a guy, sweet, caring, a sense of humor, and very easy on the eyes. There was this strange pull to him, and an odd sense of safety and...home...That you hadn't felt in a long time. But the nagging reminder of your unlucky life had you looking away, already knowing that the two of you wouldn't work, you were doomed to be alone if fate had anything to do with it. 

"Thank you, but...How my life is…Nothing good will ever come my way" 

"What do you mean (Y/N)?" He asked, the first time he used your actual name all day. You sighed, unsure if you should unload all this emotional baggage on him, but one look back at him brought back that sense of safety, like you could tell him anything and he would make it better. Looking down at the ground you started.

"You were wrong...When you said I looked like someone who liked Christmas...I did, at one point. But after everything..The first year I lost grandmother, the next year, the family cat (C/N), then my grandfather passed, then my oldest dog (D/N), then my aunt died, and now (D/N) is missing, every year around Christmas I always lose someone close. So that's why Christmas has lost its luster, and that's why I don't see anything good happening for me in the future...Fate doesn't like me very much." You sighed, never once looking up at him...You wouldn't be surprised if he left, he would probably fear for his own life, after all, you were like walking bad luck. So when he grabbed your hands, you quickly looked up, seeing that small smile on his face.

"Screw fate, you've had some horrible things happen, and for that I really am sorry, but if there is anything I have learned from living amongst people...in this town" he laughed.

"It's that people can change their lives at any moment, no matter what plans some divine cosmic being has in store for them" he stated, and even though he still had that smile, the conviction in his voice made him seem like he knew much more than he showed.

"What did you always want to be?" He asked, confusing you as you looked at him, tilting your head slightly.

"You said no to model and actress, though I still think you could absolutely do both" he stated with a wink.

"So what did little Y/N always want to do when she grew up?"

"I...wanted to be a baker" you answered, blushing slightly at the awed expression he gave you.

"You are even more perfect than I imagined" he whispered causing you to laugh.

"Then be a baker! Look!" He dragged you over to an empty shop.

"This could be yours, I can see it now Y/N's tasty treats" he motioned across the glass, earning another laugh from you.

"You seem like a strong and stubborn person, don't let some silly little thing like fate stop you sugarplum" he stated, returning to your side, you looked at him again, getting lost in his gaze for what felt like the millionth time that day, the smile never leaving your lips as you asked.

"Then what led us to meet?" You asked 

"I've been to that park almost everyday,I've never once seen you" you added.

"You'd have remembered me?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows and causing you to giggle again.

"Of course" you smirked.

"Well, maybe fate decided to be nice for once" he shrugged.

"Well...I'm glad" you smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm really glad I met you today Gabriel"

"I'm glad we met too sugar" he smiled, and again, the feeling of home swept over you, maybe fate was being nice for once, maybe your luck was finally turning around, maybe just maybe…

"Awww" a woman stated while she and her boyfriend passed by, looking over at them for a moment you looked back at Gabriel confused, he simply smiled and pointed up. Right above your heads, hanging from a tree branch was a small piece of mistletoe. Blushing you looked back at Gabriel who simply shrugged.

"Only if you want to sugarplum" smiling, you slowly leaned in, Gabriel meeting you halfway, and your heart feeling like it wasn't shattered for the first time in years. His hands rested on your hips while yours rested on his shoulders, the kiss deepening while only one thought crossed your mind...Maybe you didn't have to be alone.

Breaking the kiss you rested your forehead against his, smiling while you tried to catch your breath.

"Wow" you spoke after a moment, causing him to laugh.

"I'll take that as a complement, and right back at cha sugarplum" he smiled. Maybe he was right, maybe fate was a silly thing, but at that moment you were happy it led you to him. Just as you were about to state that though, you felt something brush against your leg, and upon looking down you couldn't stop the tears.

"D/N!" You cried out, dropping to your knees and hugging the dog, their smiling face making you smile as well.

"The mystery of the missing D/N has been solved! Good work agent Y/N" Gabriel joked, getting down to pet D/N as well. You looked over at him and felt your breath hitch, from here, the Christmas lights gave him an ethereal glow, almost...Angelic in a way. That thought had you giggling at how accurate it was. A Christmas angel.

"What's up sugarplum?" 

"Nothing...It's just...You're kind like mine and D/Y's guardian angel" you blushed and looked at D/N, but caught the smile Gabriel gave you from the corner of your eye.

"Anytime you need me" he whispered to you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before standing up.

"Now how about I escort you two home safely huh? After all, as your angel I have my duties" he stated with a wink, holding out his hand for you.

"Just angel duties?" You asked as you stood up.

"Well...I've always been one to mix business and pleasure" he smirked, wrapping his arm around you while the two of you began to walk, D/N trotting happily beside you both. Looking over at him once more you couldn't help but smile...Yeah...Fate finally decided to be nice to you, and maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad.

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!

Also I was largely inspired by this quote.

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Go Mets!

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @mf-despair-queen‘s 2019 Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week.  This is my first ever Dylan fic, as well as my first ever reader insert (ish) fic, so keep that in mind hahahaha I hope you enjoy it!

 Also! DISCLAIMER: I write this purely for fun, I don’t get paid or anything like that, I’m just borrowing our favorite Mets fan for a bit of  good natured fun...

Warnings: light swearing, because it wouldnt be a riseandshinelittleblossom fic without it. :D

Shout out to my wonderful friend @ao719 for indulging me and pre-reading this for me..girl your rock!

 Tags: @leelee10898 @fullbeaumonty @kennaxval @superapplepie @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @stiles-o-dylan24  @ownworldresident @mrscutiefandobhaz

    Dylan held out his arm, staggering backwards a bit as he caught the baseball in his well-worn mitt.

    “Hey, nice one Maggie!” He chuckled.

    The six year old across the yard beamed at him and he couldn't help but feel his heart melt seeing her snaggletooth grin.

     He was so proud of how much she had progressed since he first started bringing her out back to play catch two years ago.

     His friends had all warned him to steer clear of getting into a relationship with you because dating a single mother also meant “you have to play Dad,” but that had never worried him in the least. Maggie was a good kid, really smart, and she shared Dylan's passion for baseball and the Mets. These days he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his time off between filming than to be in the backyard helping her practice for her little league games.

   She flipped her long, chocolate- colored plait over her shoulder and resumed her batting stance.

   “Okay, Dyl. Let's have another one. And don't go easy on me this time.” She sassed.

   “Go easy on you? I would never..” he feigned innocence, grasping the ball firmly and grinding into the mitt a few times.

   Maggie rolled her eyes, the bat falling to her side.

   “I'm serious, O'Brien. You think the girls on the Grizzlies are gonna go easy on me this weekend? Not a chance! They're out for blood after we wiped the floor with them last season.”

   “Out for blood, huh? Okay, well pick up the bat and I promise I won't hold back then, Princess.”

    She resumed her stance and Dylan shook his head.

    “Here,” he began crossing the yard in a few strides to stand behind her. He widened her grip on the bat and helped her crouch a bit lower. “Gotta widen that stance, baby girl. Otherwise the first speed ball's gonna knock you right off of home plate.”

      He returned to the makeshift pitcher's mound that he and Maggie had made with a pile of her kinetic sand. It was a project that you had been none too happy about.

      He stomped his feet a few times before releasing a steady pitch.

      With a loud crack, the young girl sent the ball sailing away from her. Dylan hit a backwards run in an attempt to catch it, but it soared over the fence anyway.

   You watched from the open kitchen window as your boyfriend raced across the yard and hefted the small girl onto his shoulder.

   “And the Mag-ster rounds first! She's off to second! Oh my God, she's flying past third! Aaaand she makes it all the way home!” He shouted as he ran a circle in the yard and Maggie cheered, her small fists pumping into the air as Dylan mimicked the sound of a crowd roaring. He placed the child on the ground and you couldn't help but chuckle.

    You and Dylan had been going steady for two years now, but it always made you smile to watch him with Maggie. He was the best daddy to her that he never had to be and it made you love him even more.

      You thought back to the day that he first entered you and Maggie's lives as you finished washing up the mountain of dishes in the sink.

***********”**

     You adjusted the settings outside of the batting booth before crouching in front of your preschooler.

    “You sure you want to do the batting cages? We could go for another round of skee ball instead.” You suggested as the little girl before you adjusted her baseball helmet and shook her head. The child-sized aluminum bat in her hand still looked humongous and you bit your lip, wondering why you'd agreed to let her go in there and let a machine lob baseballs at her.

    “I wanna baseball! I'm tired of just tee ball! It's time to break into the big girl game, because one day I'm gonna play for the New York Mets.” She told you matter-of-factly as she stepped into the cage.

   You blamed the babysitter. She was a sweet woman that kept Maggie for next to nothing and she had two boys of her own that were only a little older for your daughter to play with.

   The sitter's oldest son, Jacob, was nine and he played little league, which meant he and his brother often tried to get Maggie to play catch with them outside. Jacob was Maggie's hero and a die-hard New York Mets fan. All the time she spent with Jacob had ignited a fire within your near five year old. It had started with endless tee ball games in the local junior league and now...batting cages at the family fun arena.

   You wrung your hands nervously as the first pitch shot out. You'd set the machine on the lowest setting but it still felt like the ball was the Roadrunner, jetting away from Wile E. Coyote as it hurdled towards your small child. Certainly anyone watching must have thought you were insane to let her in there.

   Maggie held her own, swinging confidently even though the ball barely glanced the end of her bat. The metallic ting caused her to giggle wildly.

   “I hit it!” She shouted.

   “Hey, good job!” a male voice came from behind.

   You whipped your head to see a tall slender man wearing khaki pants and, coincidentally, a Mets jersey. Your eyes scanned over him, your bottom lip tucking itself involuntarily between your teeth.

   He twisted his baseball cap, leaving the bill sticking out behind him and tucked his folded sunglasses into his shirt. He gave you a polite smile and nod, the fluorescent lights overhead catching his honey colored eyes just enough to make them sparkle.

   Your heart all but stopped as you smiled back and quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed that he'd no doubt noticed you checking him out.

    “Thank you. She lives for this stuff.” You said shyly.

     TING

   “I hit it again!” Maggie squealed in delight, turning to face you. “Who's he?”

   She scrunched her face up as she stepped out of the cage.

  “Oh I was just waiting my turn is all. I'm going to use the cage when you're finished. Nice form in there,though. If you'd like, maybe I could give you some pointers.” The man said.

     “You would?!” She squawked.

    You were taken aback by the way he peered directly into Maggie's eyes when he talked to her. Not many people were so attentive when they spoke, especially to children. It made your knees feel weak as he trained his eyes on you in the same fashion.

   “I'm Dylan.” He offered, extending a hand.

************

    Your attention was pulled back to the present as you heard Maggie's sassy, near whiny voice through the window.

   “I am NOT a baby anymore, Dylan. I'm getting bigger everyday, you know.” She scoffed.

   He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

   You stepped onto your tiptoes to get a better view of the two loves of your life, straining to hear their conversation. They were seated on the patio now, Dylan helping Maggie oil her own glove as well as his own.

    “Mommy says that if I want to keep playing I have to take good care of my equipment. She said only responsible players get into the big leagues, so I have been trying to oil my mitt like you showed me, but sometimes it's hard.” The girl huffed as her mentor lifted his large hands-the ones that plagued your every day dream- and placed them over hers, patiently guiding her movements.

   “You want to make sure you get into every groove, Princess. Every crevice. See? You've got it. I'm so glad to hear you've been listening to Mom while I've out of town, though.”

     You let out a sigh, a warm feeling spreading from your chest throughout your body, a small chuckle escaping you. How did you ever get lucky enough to find him?

    “Dylan, can I ask you a question?” Maggie piped up.

     “Anything, squirt. What's on your mind?”

    “Why were you and Mommy yelling at each other last night?”

     Dylan's eyes went wide as he turned his gaze to his own mitt.

    “Wha..wuddaya mean? We weren't-”

     “Come on, O'Brien. I'm not deaf. You were saying, ‘Oh, Y/N,’ and Mommy kept screaming 'Dylan, oh my God’. Were you guys fighting?”

    You tried to stifle a laugh, your hand flying over you lips as you remembered the absolutely mind blowing events from the night before. The ones your daughter had apparently overheard. You could barely see your boyfriend's cheeks turning bright red right about now and you would have paid good damned money to get a view of that up close.

    “Uh, no. We weren't...we weren't fighting, Princess.” Dylan tried to be vague and he cleared his throat. You knew he was silently hoping that his answer had been enough to end the conversation, but you also knew Maggie better than that.

   “Oh. Well then what were you doing?”

    Dylan turned to wipe off his hands, holding the towel out for Maggie to do the same.

    “We were...we were talking in our sleep.”

    “I heard banging, Dyl.”

     The dark haired man gulped audibly, one hand rubbing over the days old stubble of his chin.

    “Uh...that? Oh we were… okay listen. You know I love your Mommy, right Princess?”

    Maggie nodded, “Yep! And she loves you.”

    “That's right. So we love each other. Sometimes, uh...when a boy loves a girl...ya know...they...dance...together?”

      You cackled softly listening to Dylan not even buying his own bullshit.

   “Oh. But I can dance without banging, see?”

   Maggie hopped from her seat and swept into a graceful ballerina twirl, her hands above her head.

    “Well that's because you're a beautiful baseball-playing ballerina, and as such you're very graceful. Mommy and I...well, we're sort of clumsy.”

   The child laughed. “So you mean you guys fall down a lot?”

   “Exactly.”

    “So that's why you were yelling right? You just kept knocking each other down?” the six year old cocked a skeptical eyebrow and Dylan nodded.

    “You're gonna have to do better than that, Dyllie. I'm not buying it.”

     Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay how's this? We were dancing together because we love each other and we're clumsy so we kept falling down, but then he had...um bruises..?” He stopped short, clearly at a loss.

   “The truth, please. I was born at night but not last night, ya know?” Maggie sassed with an eye roll.

   “Okay the truth is... The truth is that I love your Mom and she loves me and sometimes when you love someone so much you just...you want to show them. There are things that you will learn about when you're older that help grown ups show each other how much they love their boyfriend or their girlfriend. And so..that's what we were doing. But those things are for grown ups only. I mean...grown ups that love each other and want to get married someday...not just any old boyfriend and girlfriend…”

     Your heart stopped at the thought. You and Dylan had been together for a long time, but somehow you'd never talked about marriage before.

    Maggie stared at him, one eyebrow cocked, her face scrunched in thought.

    “Do you..? You understand anything I just said?” He asked nervously.

    “Uuuuhhhh…..go Mets?” Maggie replied still obviously confused.

    Dylan laughed loudly as he ruffled her hair. “That's my girl!”

    “I don't even wanna know anymore,” she shook her head. “As long as you promise you and Mommy aren't breaking up.”

    Dylan wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.

   “No way, Princess. You two aren't going to get rid of me that easily.”

     “Hey, Mommy!” Maggie beamed as you appeared in the sliding glass doorway.

      “Hey, kiddo. Why don't you take your gear upstairs for me? Dylan and I need to talk.”

      She complied with your request, gathering her belongings and tossing them into her athletic bag before hefting it inside.

     You grinned widely at Dylan as your daughter disappeared up the stairs. He exhaled audibly, silently mouthing “thank you,” as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

       He ambled across the patio, wrapping his long arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

   “I know you were listening, you evil woman. Way to leave me hanging.”  Dylan muttered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. His whiskey eyes were locked on yours, making your knees suddenly feel weak.

   “I dunno, you seemed to be handling things pretty well on your own.”  You smugly replied.

    “Yeah? You think so? I'd love to show you a few other things I can handle pretty well.” he pressed his lips to yours and you giggled into the caress.

    “You mean like...Go Mets?”

    He scoffed, giving you his near award-winning, lopsided smile.

    “You're damn right, go Mets.”

[alex-baebae]

Immaculate

Chapter 21

Pairing: TOP X READER

The next morning we went to our apartment, the activities at the university of course we’re suspended. I called the real estate agent.

The day we returned to the city we were too tired for going to see the houses that TOP liked, then that creepy sh*t just happened. I thought that going to see houses could help TOP and me to think less about that situation.

“Sweetie, are you ready?” I was next to the main door, looking for my lipstick “almost done!” He said.

“Ready” he was in front of me “what did you put on your lips?” he asked staring at them “some lipstick” I said kind of nervous, he was so handsome “your lips look pretty” he said “a-h, let’s go, Seunghyun… Mrs. Williams is waiting for us” afterwards we drove far away.

One night, TOP told me that the place where he escaped from her was a department store, he said 'she' really needed to you know... find a toilet. He waited a minute in front of the restrooms, sixty seconds after, he ran as quickly as he could, he thought it probably would be the only chance he could ever had. He described to me that building, it was maybe at 15 minutes walking from our current apartment. The best way to avoid run into that girl was living in a faraway neighborhood.

“Hello Miss _____” Mrs. Williams greeted me. We walked into the living room of the house, the big back yard could be seen through big glasses “Do you like?” I asked him “yeah, it’s like the pictures we saw” everything was pretty big “so the furniture is included in the price, isn’t it?” I asked “of course, but upstairs there’s no furniture, because the price would be so much expensive, that’s why there are only the essentials here” Mrs. Williams explained.

We went to the main bedroom “this bedroom has a very big balcony, you can see the back yard from here, also the balcony connects this bedroom with the studio and other small room” she was explaining everything about that house “well, I’ll leave you alone to decide if this is going to be your new house” she said “thank you” we both said.

“What do you think?” I asked TOP “This is the one I like” he said smiling “so you didn’t like the other ones?” I asked again “but this has a balcony, and a biiiig back yard, the others don’t have any balcony” he pointed out “okay, then we’ll buy it” I said “W-where I am going to sleep at?” he asked, he seemed to be a little worried “here, with me” I held his hand and squeezed it “b-but if you want you can sleep alone, I’ll buy you a bed and a-“ I couldn’t complete the last word “no, I like to sleep with you”.

That night we moved to the new house, we put everything we owned in the car, even my bed which was able to compress. I used to rent furnished apartments, so there was not much stuff for taking to the new house, everything was easier.

We spent those days buying furniture for our home, we went to many stores and we also assembled our chairs that was very fun. I bought TOP more things like a better printer, clothes, many stuff for cooking, etcetera. Oh! I forgot to tell you about the checkup, TOP's body was finally completely okay, we also removed the tattoo, he was very very very happy that day. My aunt also told us it was safe to start a treatment for TOP’s skin.

“Did you take your medicine?” I asked him “yes” he said kissing my cheek “please eat healthy” he gave me a lunchbox “thank you, angel” I kissed his cheek back “I’m leaving” I got in the car, he waved and send me a kiss, I did the same.

He used to message me and to send me photos of what was he doing during the day such as the food he made, origami, the flowers of the garden… he’s so sweet.

TOP's point of view

Six months after my chest didn’t hurt again, all that time I had been talking to ____ about what ‘she’ did to me, it made felt better as she said.

…

Escape was the best decision; I was not able to endure more… My first time wasn’t a good experience, it hurt a lot but I believed it was normal, after all I was made to do whatever they want. However, I didn’t know why I wanted to cry every night, I really didn’t know why I felt bad.

When she started to take me to please other people everything became worse, most of the times they used to tell me at least one humiliating word, to spank me, to slap my face until it was all red, and... well, it was not common but sometimes they choked me. But compared to what she used to do to me… well I preferred them.

What really made me feel worse and worse were the things that one man always told me before he used my body. He talked about God, heaven, etcetera. He said many things that only made me feel dirty, worthless. That words made me to remember that I was just an object with no right to cry.

In the training they told us about life and death as something natural. The man told me that people go to heaven when they die, it doesn’t matter what kind of things they did in this live if they regretted it, they can enter but... ‘shit’ like me will never be there because, I had no soul. I wanted so much to die as the weeks went on. What will happen? the only I knew is that the pain would stop, that was enough for me, I didn’t deserve something as holy as heaven. In no time I prayed for being killed, however it was like God was not hearing me, maybe God didn’t hear to the things like me.

One day she hit me so hard that I could almost felt the death going through all over my body, inside of my heart I felt happiness instead of the horror I was used to. That day, we went to the local market I helped to carry the bags, ‘she’ saw the girl who was the seller touching a lot my hands when she gave me the bags full of tomatoes. When we arrived home she locked me in her room, I knew she was angry due to the fact that the girl at the market touched me, I sat down and hugged my legs, I was shaking and in tears, I knew what was next.

'You look so beautiful when you cry' she held my face with her right hand, I looked at her quickly she had a baseball bat, sometimes she used to hit my belly with it. My heart was beating so fast, I felt it was going to stop at any moment.

She grabbed my hair, she made me to stood up… the first hit was in my belly, of course it made me fell, then she continued hitting my arms my legs with the baseball bat, she was kicking me too, I was feeling dizzy.

When she kicked my face, I felt like I was out of my body, I couldn’t know what exactly was going on. She somehow put me on the bed, I was on my knees, everything was blurred and spinning.

I didn’t notice when she put me lube, suddenly she was raping me with the baseball bat, the pain took me back to reality, my lungs... I felt they were going to be out of my body due to the hard I was shouting. She was saying many things to me, fortunately I can’t remember well. She turned me around, all I could see barely was the celling. She was touching me a lot my body was shaking for the pain and the sexual stimulation she was giving me, I couldn’t resist more, I passed out. 'That was all, that was all’ I thought to myself as everything became dark.

I believed I died, but I opened my eyes again... I felt so sad. It was late maybe 8pm I didn’t move in many minutes. When I tried to stood up my body hurt so much… I had never felt that way. I saw my belly it was dark and covered in cum as always, but that time I peed too. ‘Why, why am I still alive?' I went to the bathroom falling many times, I washed everything away... my tears, the lube, my saliva, my cum, my pee.

I was about to change the blankets when she roughly took my arm, she took me out from the apartment, I was still feeling out of reality. 10pm I saw the time on a big screen 'did I sleep so many hours?' We were at a street near to her apartment “you have no money, and you still haven’t paid” a guy told her “yeah and I’ll pay you, but for this time you all could use this and have some fun” she moved me roughly towards that guy and his friends, I couldn’t see them well, the skin around my eyes had been becoming inflamed.

“Are you kidding? This sex-doll will be passed out in no time. By the way, where did you stole it?” that guy chuckled. I was scared, I didn't want to have sex with them all at the same time, I wanted to run away “b*tch, we need money, money! Not a sex doll which appears is going to die if I only put my d*ck in it’s *ss” I was frozen, fortunately he didn’t change his mind. “Fuck you, I’ll give you your god damn money”.

'Long time no see' ♥️ I will always love y'all, thank you for your support, your ♥️s always makes me feel better ❤️💞♥️

Alex

[tagsecretsanta]

From Gumnut-logic

to @photowizard17

Secret Santa does not own any of the following work, full credit goes to the creator described above!

Author’s note: Okay, so this is the first time I’ve ever participated in one of these so I’m new to this.

My prompts were

1. Virgil covered in tinsel

2. Tracy family Christmas

3. Christmas Rescue Miracle (with Virg please)

The first one prompted all sorts of images not suitable for a PG audience, so you never know what might happen between now and Christmas :D Hubby also suggested I blow up a tinsel factory, so that is always a possibility too :D Overall, I did attempt to include all three prompts in the one fic. I hope I have succeeded in providing some enjoyment at least. Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom for cheering me on when I couldn’t post daily and obsessively like I usually do, and to @the-lady-razorsharp for giving it an American beta so I don’t trip over being Australian (though the summer Christmas certainly helped :D).

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.

International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.

With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.

Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.

There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.

The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.

It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.

Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.

But it was too late for the town.

It was gone.

Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.

Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.

It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.

The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.

He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.

Nothing could be done.

Nothing.

He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”

“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”

The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.

Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”

“Eastern side, southern corner.”

There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.

“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”

He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.

Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?

His shoulders dropped.

But then...something? A whimper?

Maybe?

Virgil began digging.

It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.

The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.

Aw, hell.

“John, lifesign is a dog.”

“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”

The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.

“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.

A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”

Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.

When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.

No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.

“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.

But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.

He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.

And he couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.

He looked down at her little brown eyes again.

No, he couldn’t.

Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.

Maybe for just a few days?

The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.

Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.

“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”

-o-o-o-

It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.

When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.

Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.

Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.

“What is that?”

Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.

“Bo?”

“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”

Bo let off a sharp bark.

Everyone jumped.

“What the hell, Virgil?”

Bo was literally glaring at Alan.

“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.

“Hey!” That from Alan.

“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.

Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.

She sneezed.

Alan snorted.

Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”

She licked his wrist.

“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”

“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.

Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.

“Shut up, Virgil.”

Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.

“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”

“Sorry, Bo.”

“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”

Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”

“Augh.”

“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.

Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.

“Virgil, where the hell are you?”

Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.

TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.

“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.

Bo fell asleep in his lap.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.

So tired.

Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.

Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”

“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.

“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.

His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”

The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.

Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.

Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.

The smile became a grin.

“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”

And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.

If he could hold off the sleep.

If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.

Bo started chewing on his glove.

Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.

God, that felt good.

As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.

He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.

He was asleep within moments.

-o-o-o-

He was being kissed.

Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...

Uh?

She licked his eye.

Wha-?

Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.

Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”

A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.

Ugh.

He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.

The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.

Oh god.

“Bo, down, honey, down.”

He was completely ignored.

Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.

He winced.

“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”

“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.

Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”

Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”

“She’s a rescue.”

“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”

“She had no one.”

“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.

Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”

Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”

“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.

Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Bo just licked him some more.

It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.

Ugh.

And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.

-o-o-o-

A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.

Since starting International Rescue it had changed.

Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.

There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.

There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.

As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.

“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”

Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”

John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.

His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.

“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.

“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”

“Since this morning.”

“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.

“He does.”

“And you still have it?”

“Her.”

“Her.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.

“She had no one else.”

John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.

“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”

“God, I hope not.”

Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”

John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.

“It will be fine.”

Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.

The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.

“I think you have been approved.”

John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.

“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.

“Incoming.” John was smirking.

“Hey, Grandma.”

But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”

Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”

Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.

“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”

Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”

Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.

A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.

Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”

“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.

Scott was glaring at him from a distance.

John smiled at them and drank his beer.

Bo started chewing on his collar.

-o-o-o-

As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.

Bo yipped.

Sherbert yapped.

And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.

Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.

But never out of sight of Virgil.

Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.

Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”

Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.

The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.

The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.

Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.

The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.

The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.

And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.

His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.

Scott sighed.

But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.

Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.

Scott found himself smiling.

Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.

Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.

The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.

Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.

But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.

They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?

He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.

Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.

Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...

Another sigh.

A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.

“Gordon!”

“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.

A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”

“Leave it, Gordon.”

His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”

“Gordon-“

“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.

“Gordon-‘

“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.

Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.

Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.

She jumped up and licked his nose.

Scott sighed.

Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”

Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.

“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”

He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.

“I really hope we don’t regret this.”

-o-o-o-

“PRESENTS!”

Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.

A sharp little bark.

Bo.

He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.

Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.

Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.

There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”

Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.

Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”

Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.

Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”

“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.

Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.

The result was immediate.

MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.

With Bo hanging on.

“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.

Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”

MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.

Virgil dashed after them.

Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.

All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.

A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.

Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.

“No!”

Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.

As he plummeted into the pool.

The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.

Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.

Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.

She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.

He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.

“You trashed the tree, Virg.”

“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.

And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.

-o-o-o-

“Only you, Virgil.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”

“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”

“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”

“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”

“You are still getting out of clean up.”

“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”

“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”

Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know that, Ow!”

“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”

“Bo ate one of my boots.”

Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”

“She’s a puppy.”

“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”

Bo yapped at him.

Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”

“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.

Ooookaay.

He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.

Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.

He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.

“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”