#Which leads me to wonder how many dogs named pepper there are in the world

[lacunasbalustrade]

I know pepper isn’t a lab retriever with a pale yellow coat but @starburstsobsessions

attaching a file to email is just like how the cocklebur seed attaches itself to torso of a ten week old labrador retriever puppy with pale yellow coat and big wet eyes that glint like obsidian orbs in the light of the sun

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

[goldenkirstein]

there's no place I'd rather be

or alternatively, you fall in love with jean despite knowing the precarious situation

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

anonymous requested: Hello, long time reader here and glad that you open your request! Can I request a Jean x F! Reader. Reader is a Marleyan nurse who arrived with Yelena, tho she has no hate towards Eldian and feels unfair the stigmatism eldian suffers in Marley. She isnt involved in any plans just do her work. She slowly falls in love with Jean, but has to keep their relationship as she is « the ennemy ». They got secretly engaged before the rumbling. Canonverse, Fluff, slight, love. Thank you in advance ❤️❤️❤️

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 2.1k+

tags: fluff, some angst, manga spoilers, female reader, language, mentions of food and injuries.

a/n: dashes denote timskips

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Not so tightly, I said firmly, not to cut off my circulation.” You giggled as the man released his grip on your wrist. He looked down, ears tinted red with embarrassment.

“Sorry, got distracted.” Hazel eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle left his mouth.

You were no stranger to the commanding officer; although a great soldier, he was not immune from the occasional bar fight, which often led him to knock at your door with a pleading look and a couple of cuts and bruises that needed your attention.

Over the months, the fights got less frequent, but Jean continued to visit you, leading to the formation of an unlikely friendship. Sometimes, he would come with lunch in hand, knowing how busy you got taking care of the sick and wounded. Other times, like today, he would join you on his days off, helping you complete menial tasks around the clinic.

“You are a terrible student, Kirstein; you know that?” You stood up from the cot and began to place the gauze and antiseptic liquid in the cabinet situated above.

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher.” He looked up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. You whipped your head back to roll your eyes at the man before returning to the task at hand.

“I’d be careful with the choice of words; I don’t see any other nurse here who lets you follow them around like a lost puppy dog.” Closing the cabinet, you stripped the cot of the sheets, bunching them in your hands. Jean’s eyes followed your precise movements before he took the sheets out of your hand and placed them in the laundry hamper at the end of the bed.

“A puppy dog? Seriously? After helping you out at this lonesome clinic, that’s what I’m reduced to?” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning being shot.

You gave him a deadpan look before moving on to the next bed. The tall man remained in your periphery as you continued to work. The silent treatment clearly worked as a sigh left his lips. You glanced up, mouth already open to quip at him in playful annoyance, but found him running his hands through his hair— a nervous tick. You had picked up on it after cleaning his cuts when missions went wrong.

“So, next lesson, I was thinking, maybe you could teach me how to suture a wound?”

This was what he was nervous about?

“You can barely take my pulse without squeezin’ the pulp out of me; you think I’m going to trust you-”

“Okay, how about a date then.”

You blinked your eyes at him, a confused expression painting your face. There were too many complications, you thought. Sure he was attractive and kind, not to mention thoughtful, and his touch would set your skin ablaze, but he was ranked high in the military; would his superiors be okay with this?

There was no denying you did have feelings for him — a tiny part of you was squealing like a schoolgirl; you desperately wanted to lean into that part, but there could be consequences if you accepted.

Worrisome thoughts circled your mind, and you barely heard your name being called out by the man in front of you. Shaking your head to clear your mind, your focus returned to Jean, his eyebrows raised as he waited with bated breath for your response.

It’s just one date.

It could mean nothing.

There’s no harm in saying yes.

“Um, it’s fine if you don’t-” Jean’s voice was hesitant and quiet, but he was quickly cut off when you let out a laugh.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just-you know what? Yeah, Kirstein, I’ll go on a date with you.” His demeanour changed, and you giggled at the awkwardness. “Now, I have a pile of patient files that need sorting. Think you’re up for the job?” You bit your lip as you watched the man quickly nod and follow behind your footsteps.

—

“Seriously? I mean, I don’t see it; guess puberty did you wonders, Jean.” You took a bite of the strawberry shortcake, eyes fluttering shut as the flavours filled your mouth.

“Right? I guess I was kind of a dick back then, but I swear they only just stopped calling me that.” Jean smiled as he looked over at you, enjoying the dessert. He hopelessly wanted to kiss you there and then, but he decided against it — too early for that.

“Do you miss it? Your training years?” Taking a napkin, you wiped at the corner of your mouth. The smile on Jean’s face faded away as he looked over the meadow, the setting sun casting a brilliant glow over his features. The change in his expression filled you with instant regret; you opened your mouth to utter out an apology for your carelessness but were cut off by Jean’s voice replacing the sudden silence that had taken over between the two of you.

“Yes? No? Sometimes, it feels like a different lifetime; none of us could have anticipated this. We were so young.” He paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing, “Sometimes I wish we could have stayed like that for a little longer — I could have cherished it better.” His voice turned into a whisper near the end. You stayed silent before he turned back, flashing a smile at you that made your heartbeat quicken.

“Enough about me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about Marley. Tell me about it.” Jean’s eyes flickered between yours and the different slices of cake laid out on the picnic blanket. Taking a fork, he bit into the decadent cheesecake and let out a moan.

“You really want to hear about Marley? I thought you’d be sick of hearing about the place, Mr. Commanding Officer.” You giggled while he tried to grumble out a response, the food still in his mouth.

“I could never get tired of hearing about you, doll. Now, c’mon tell me.” His expression softened when he looked at you.

“Don’t do that.” You swallowed thickly, the pet name ringing in your ears.

“Do what?” He wiped the crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand, making you raise your eyebrows and suppress a laugh. He tilted his head and looked at you with a confused expression.

“Say stuff that makes me feel like I got the wind knocked out of my lungs.” You turned your face, attempting to conceal the embarrassment that had taken over your features. Shutting your eyes, you waited for him to laugh at you, but he never did. Hesitantly you turned to face him and found him staring at you, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“You want to know what my diagnosis for that is?” He leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You struggled to meet his gaze.

“What?” It came out breathy; Jean’s eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I think you like me. Wanna know what I recommend as treatment?” He smiled when you quickly nodded at his words, the conversation you were having wiped from your mind.

The distance between the two of you closed in; his lips moulded to yours as he captured them in a tender kiss. The taste of the sweet cheesecake was still present on his lips, and you wrapped his hand around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Jean smiled against your lips before pulling away.

“Guess my lessons finally paid off, Kirstein.” A slight blush tinted Jean’s cheeks at your comment, and he grasped your free hand with his own, bringing it to his lips, peppering your knuckles with soft kisses.

—

“Are you listening?”

The Commander’s voice made you sit up straight; you offered a quick apology to them before glancing over at Jean, who was shifting in his seat.

The tension was palpable in the room as the Commander continued to explain the fragility of the situation at hand. With Eren abandoning the scouts, intense scrutiny was placed on the Commander and the Marleyan volunteers — the latter of which included you.

You stared at your hands which rested in your lap, gaze focused downward to avoid the venomous looks that were being thrown in your direction. However, it wasn’t anger that filled your chest but rather a certain heaviness. You couldn’t blame them. Centuries of mistrust and hatred fueled this. They had every right to doubt your intentions, despite them being in no way harmful or deceitful in nature.

Gathering enough courage to lift your head, you locked eyes with Jean, and your heart sank deeper into a pool of anguish.

You were a fool.

A fool for thinking that the world would spare you from the inevitable heartbreak that faced you both.

You hoped that Jean wouldn’t be able to see through the front you were putting up, trying your best to remain neutral, not to worry him during such an important meeting. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes shifting back to Commander Hange. You knew that if you were worrying about the current predicament, there was no doubt that he probably was as well.

Shifting your focus back on your lap, you ran your thumb over your bare ring finger to soothe yourself for the remainder of the meeting.

Welcoming the cool breeze as you stepped out of the imposing building, you allowed your shoulders to relax. The momentary relief was short-lived, however, as two soldiers trailed behind your footsteps. They were getting closer and closer until you turned around and saw a familiar figure dismiss them.

Jean approached you; although his expression was stiff and stoic, his eyes still held the same tenderness for you as they did years prior. Before accompanying you through the gates and on to the stone-laden path towards your clinic, he gave you a curt nod.

You knew better than to reach out and grasp his hand, interlock your fingers together, despite the ever-growing itch you had to seek comfort in his touch.

Sparing a few glances in his direction, you saw his jaw was clenched — the meeting still heavy on his mind.

Rounding the corner, the steps leading to the clinic came into view; it was secluded enough for both of you to drop the act. You walked over and sat on the steps and watched as Jean sat next to you.

A tired sigh tumbled from his lips, hair falling in front of his face, obstructing you from seeing his pained expression. You reached over and brushed it past his ear, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder before resting your forehead against it.

The both of you sat in silence before Jean took hold of your left hand, thumb brushing over the same spot you were moments prior.

“You know, I was worried you only said yes out of pity for me. I thought you only saw me as some poor Eldian-” Raising your head from Jean’s shoulder, you watched with concern in your eyes.

“Jean, you know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“I know that, doll. I just, just, couldn’t believe you would want to marry me.” His eyes remained focused on your hand until you released it from his grasp. You moved it to his face, turning it to make him face you.

Grazing over his cheekbones, you gave him a soft smile, “I still want to. Marry you that is. Ring or not, the end of the fucking world or not, I’m still going to marry you.” Letting out a chuckle, you pressed your forehead against his.

He turned his head to kiss your palm, voice coming out as a whisper, “I can’t make any promises, and I know you’re scared, but know that I love you more than anything, darling.”

—

Smoothing your hands over your attire, for the umpteenth time doing so, you walked over to join Armin and the others from the ship’s bow.

You instantly smiled when you felt a warm hand on the small of your back, head turning to look at your husband.

“You could have spent a smidge more time fixing your hair, don’t you think so?” Jean shook his head and let out a laugh.

“Gotta look the best for my wife.” He shot you a wink, making you roll your eyes at him despite the action making your mind foggy — even now, he still managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a silly little crush.

You pushed into his side, hand snaking up his back as you approached your friends.

“Nervous?”

“You know it.” He removed himself from your side to lean into the railing, but he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you closer to his body.

Jean brought your hand to his lips before he placed a gentle kiss over the cool metal that wrapped around your finger. He flashed you a grin, “but I’m glad I have you here with me.”

a/n: this took me a long time to finish, so I apologize for it taking so long !! I hope you enjoyed it !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @clean-soap, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu, @conniesspringersgf, @glittrkink, @amnxsia, @kentos-kinfolk, @ally22042000, @just-that-one-kid00, @jeansbabycake, @fiaficsxo, @aracynthos

click here to join my taglist

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this; I appreciate it lots <33

[the-bau-quinjet]

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

-

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

-

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

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[staticscreenwriting]

Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him. 

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do. 

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “ 

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “ 

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.” 

“ Old tattoo? “ 

Billy swallows audibly “scars.” 

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer. 

“ Dr. Pepper? “ 

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “ 

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window. 

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down. 

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole. 

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days. 

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head. 

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips. 

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself. 

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?” 

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“ 

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?” 

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now. 

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility. 

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing. 

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken. 

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars.  Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand. 

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

[metalbvcky]

*Shows up late to the Stucky/Marvel fandom Post-EG with Starbucks and dozens of fics that I’ve read in hand* So you guys like fanfiction?

Yeah so, because of quarantine I’ve been consuming a ton of fic. I’ve probably read over 1.5 million words in just a couple months. So why not share what I’ve been reading! Note that some of these are older (popular) fics so veteran Stucky peeps will probably know of them since I not too recently delved into the realm that is Stucky fanfic. :)  

Down below are over a dozen fics with different tropes, Canon/AU’s, and what not. Please do heed the tags on some of these. For the curious: My AO3 bookmarks. 

Also shoutout to @stuckylibrary, the mods over there are doing the lords work. 

Key:  ♥ = My fave, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub 

Heroes are Easy, People are Hard ♥ by Halbereth, Lorien - Words: 152,284 | CW Fix It, Slight Canon Divergence, Recovery, Slow Burn

Shuri and Wanda cleared Bucky's triggers shortly after Killmonger's attempted coup, and he and Steve went on the run. But it turns out there's more to "fixing Bucky's head" than "getting Hydra out of it." When a group of rogue scientists manage to neutralize the serum and make Steve very sick--pre-serum "this is bad" kind of sick--and they're cut off from contact with Wakanda, Bucky knows only one person with resources to help. He calls Tony and surrenders on the condition that Tony tries to help Steve.

From there, it's basically three variously messed-up guys’ trajectories from "This Is Fine", "Reasonably Speaking I Know It’s Fine", "I Will Be Fine With It" to actually being fine, guest-starring a far-better-adjusted teenage boy who climbs walls, a 1957 Ford Thunderbird, two women with a keen sense of the absurd, and Bruce, the Zen master of “it’s fine that it’s not fine.” Add in the fact that Bucky's been secretly in love with Steve since the thirties and things only get harder. Learning to be a person is the hardest thing Bucky Barnes will ever have to do--but he's got company along the way.

Reap The Whirlwind by Cristinuke - Words: 18,221 | Canon Universe, Post CW, Domestic 

Bucky finds a cat. Or rather, a cat finds him.

Your Favorite Ghost by augustbird - Words: 21,013 |  Canon Divergence, Post TWS

It's harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home.

Despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ♥ by praximeter (Zimario) - Words: 71,532 | Canon Divergence TWS, Body Modifications 

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

This city bleeds its aching heart ♥ by Renne - Words: 34,537 | Canon Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship 

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

The Best Way to Wake ♥ by LeeHan - Words: 42,293 | Post TFA, Canon Divergence TWS, Recovery 

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail ♥ series by owlet - Words: 264,438 | Canon Divergence (sort of) 

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

Undersell, overcommit by silentwalrus - Words: 10,222 | Canon Universe 

Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena - Words: 26,734 | Post-TWS, Canon Universe 

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn't have much to do when he's not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's real or if he's starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

Sugar Sweet ♥ from the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated - Words: 173,400 | Modern/Sugar Daddy AU, Age Difference, Slow Burn

"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes. A little smirk, "Steve."

Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve. Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."

College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Steve and Bucky Go Away for the Weekend (and cook a lot) ♥ by E_Greer -  Words: 30,126 | Canon Universe, Domestic 

In which Steve coaxes Bucky out of the Tower for a birthday weekend away and sweet, fluffy domesticity ensues. Phlintasha helps keep Bucky calm, Steve has Opinions about how you set the table, stories are told, greenhouses are toured, baths are had, books are read, tears are shed, stars are gazed upon, and everyone makes Bucky feel loved. Includes Friday night dinner, Saturday morning breakfast, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch.

Dona Nobis Pacem by thegraytigress - Words: 65,214 | Canon Universe, Recovery 

"This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes it doesn't mean everybody, but if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time maybe nobody gets saved."

An incident on the battlefield exposes how much Steve's falling apart under the crushing weight of leading the Avengers after Sokovia. Now Bucky's adopting a new mission: save Steve before he destroys himself completely, even if it means the end of Captain America.

Give 'Em Hope ♥ by L1av - Words: 130,022 | Modern/Hospital AU, UA/Age Difference 

Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. He needs him to.

You belong (to me) by hermionesmydawg - Words: 29,759 | S, DS, Canon Compliant, Post CW

"Hold on." Bucky lifted a finger and backed out of the doorway, returning a moment later with his cell phone. He snapped a photo of Steve, typed a few words, and then returned to his apple. "What the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?"

"Not having sex, if that's what you're wondering." An alert sounded from Steve's nightstand - a new Snapchat message. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone. Sam was always sending stupid Snapchats and frankly, Steve couldn't figure that goddamn app out and cursed whoever created that piece of shit.

The chat wasn't from Sam this time, however. It was a picture of himself, not looking guilty at all, with the caption "when your buddy catches you looking at p*rn."

Circling Back from the It’s Not Linear series by chaya - Words: 59,642 (Series Total: 136,782) | Canon Divergence

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

Continuing Education by 743ish, romanticalgirl - Words: 14,443 | S, Canon Universe/College, Shrunkyclunks 

Steve is invited to be a guest lecturer on the WWII unit for Bucky's college course. Bucky's more than happy to glean any extra knowledge (in more than just history) from Steve, and Steve's happy to eductate him. But then Bucky has to decide if he can handle the fact that Steve throws himself into danger, and if the sex is worth it. Or if it's not just sex anymore.

Salt & Sugar by GoldBlooded, stfustucky - Words: 19,598 | Modern/Restaurant AU

Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow.

When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. Except... Steve makes a burger that could bring Bucky to tears, and Bucky makes tartlets so beautiful Steve's sure they qualify as art. Maybe, just maybe, together they could make this a night to remember.

@/sgtbarnes1917 and @/cptrogers1918 by BayleyWinchester - Words: 114,203 | Canon Universe, Social Media Fic 

Bucky Barnes broke Twitter with one photo

Proprietary Information ♥ from the Additional Information series by notlucy - Words: 85,141 (Series Total: 165,871) | Modern AU, Age difference, Slow Burn

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting) by SilverMyfanwy - Words: 15,353 | Pioneer-AU, Shrinkyclinks 

Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in. Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.

A Bucky Odyssey by inediblesushi, thorstbench - Words: 9,952 | Shrinkyclinks,  Cap!Bucky, Nurse!Steve  

Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.

At first I wanted to wait to post this until I finished a few more fics from my ever growing read-later list but what the heck, now or never! I’ll probably end up making a part 2 reclist by the amount of fic I’m reading these days. 

Happy reading and stay safe out there fellow Stucky trash members!!

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

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Master List

Chapter 11

It's not the MT

Silent Hill: Nightwing and Robin have gone to Paris.

It’s a Nara: Do you know their motives? We are not aware of any crime or related crime network between Gotham and Paris

Silent Hill: Red Hood told them about the MT

Almost pretty: Corvus should pay him a visit and shoot him in the knee

Three balls: with real bullets

Plasticine: or a rocket launcher

Wild goat: Can I go? So I can test my confetti grenades

Silent Hill: I think that sense of humor fits in well with Gotham

Needle: With the rogues

Olive: I totally approve of any kind of aggression against the nosy man

Great mother: If you do something illegal, make sure no one knows it was you

Almost pretty: the boss has spoken

Divine gift: It’s my duty to remind you that you must be investigating, if the foreign watchers have affairs with us, we will know in due course. Let's not do anything rash.

It’s a Nara: He’s right. I'm going to check the security cameras for any sign of them… Is Nightwing wearing his own outfit or did he come as Batman?

Silent Hill: Batman can't leave Gotham

The Antibiotic: Do you think if I get on a roof I can get a Nightwing autograph?

Wild goat: If you get on it, maybe Byakko accidentally shoves you into the void

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

Marinette sighs as she watches the group chat, foreign vigilantes while she and Felix have plans to get out of Paris, just wonderful, but she can't stop to think about it. She must first speak to Damian and then prepare for her travel.

She's heading towards her son's room, she can hear the little barking of the puppies as she gets closer. Adult dogs are used to sleeping in a room set up for them, except for Ícaro, the Australian Shepherd, who likes to sleep with Damian when he visits (which means that there will now be five dogs in that room, alongside Picatso, Dafne prefers to sleep with she). She knocks on the door and before long, he opens it, wearing only his pajama bottoms because his shirt is being used as a bed by Ringo.

"Is something wrong, mother?" Damian opens the door completely for her to enter, ignoring, for the moment, his previous fight against the cubs for his kidnapped shirt.

"Yeah... Tomorrow I will go on a trip with Felix, we will go to Turkey."

"Why?"

"Oh well, it's... there's a prodigy in Turkey and it seems like a demon wants it, so we'll find it before it becomes a problem." She explains, she was about to tell him about John, but with her out of the country, there was nothing to prevent him from discovering his identity and she doesn't know what could happen for his small Machiavellian head.

Marinette loves her child, but she can't quite predict it right now. Luka, a divine gift for her, explained that Damian doesn't want to be taken away from her and that he fears that someone external can achieve it, that he desperately clings to the only person who loves him for what he is and that if they take him away from him add more weight, separate he from his new family; that she represents his whole world. He also explained that it will take a while for him to get used to receiving people outside the MT, especially if they seem to show interest in she and that after Michel Laforet, well, the boy doesn't have a good impression of men. Although he showed bewilderment about his reaction for his two new clients, since he was openly hostile and he could not give him a definitive answer, but that he would analyze his behavior to help him go through the process he's living.

"I see... why don't you take me, mother? Am I not good enough to accompany you on your missions?" She sighs to see his hurt look and sits on the sofa in the room, inviting him to sit next to her, he immediately obeys and sits down, allowing himself to be embraced by his mother.

"It has nothing to do with anyone's abilities, if it did, it will lead other team members not only to Felix." She explains, beginning to pat her son's head, looking up at the ceiling as she decides to explain herself better and be totally honest with Damian. "When I founded the MT, I had been working alone with Felix for a while we were looking for evidence to convict Gabriel Agreste once and for all, we found so many charges that the prosecution would have a field day in the case... so that our victory was bitter because someone stole the butterfly brooch..."

"Mother, why are you telling me that? I know the story. ”He interrupts, not understanding Marinette's intentions.

"I know, you know the origin, but not the process." She responds with a nostalgic smile. "We spent half a year locked up cursing the person who dared to steal the Miraculous and realized that, as heroes, we could not hunt it without attracting attention... Hence the first idea of the MT arose and we founded it officially a week after the last Gabriel's trial, along with Kagami and Tomoe, who joined Luka soon after. Adrien decided not to be an active part of everything, but he became an unofficial member a year later because of his desire to find Nathalie's murderer, becoming an informant and investigator, everything that we could not take, he did it by getting a job modeling in the city where I was supposed to go. "

Damian did not know that, he believed that Agreste was affiliated with the MT just because he was previously one of the heroes, but, considering that not all the old Miraculous wearers are related, he should have considered another possibility (especially since the old wearers still wield a prodigy and he doesn't). He credits him for his commitment and intelligence to have a reason to go to those places, that also explains why he has been modeling for so many brands (some very strange ones like a brand of sardines with yellow peppers, he still remembers the jokes in the chat about his sardine costume).

"After we had an initial team in place, we started building our local network and expanding it using my grandmother Gina's connections, before long we were up and running and took Tomoe's recommendation to build a stronger team, in part for our work and so that the prodigies would have more places to be transferred… Each person who associates with the MT and proves to be loyal, receives the tattoo of the guardians. "Damian goes away to see his mother, that is something that he didn't know,  why? "That is why everyone knows magic, although not everyone is compatible..."

"Why don't I have it?"

"Because I wanted you to have options, not because you are my son and part of the MT means that you must bear that responsibility. I took you out of an organization where you were against your will… I wasn't going to put you in another, that's why we didn't introduce you to training until you asked for it. "Damian doesn't know what to say, is she taking his decisions into consideration? Does he want to be part of it in the same way as the others? He doesn't know, because he doesn't know what it means to be a guardian, but if he ask, his mother is sure to explain and give him all the time he need to make a decision.

"Why are you telling me now?" It's the only thing he can ask, he doesn't understand how conversation came to that.

"Because it's one of the reasons I am not taking you to Turkey." He understands, that is a job for them as guardians and he's not one, it should be obvious, but he still feels displaced. "The other is directly related to the history of the MT... I learned to work with Felix, we both know what to do and we don't stop, we create our own system over the years. We have had our difficulties, like four years ago in Liverpool, but here we are... And we just need to learn to coordinate us, for you. "

Marinette draws him back into her hug, this time placing a kiss on his head.

"What is the reason for the nicknames in the chat?"The question surprises Marinette, he was complaining about it, especially since his is Olive.

"Protect the identities of informants affiliated with the MT, that is, those who received a tattoo, but who are not part of the official registry."

"Is your lover one of those?"

Marinette smiles in amusement, of course her child would start tying up dots. Taking into account that they are traveling almost unexpectedly (he knows when it's so and it not a planned one, because she would have warned him in time) and for that to happen he must have found out very recently, that is, the day before and that day was see to John.

"Yup... And I won't tell you what his code name is." He just clicks his tongue, there are four users whose identity he doesn't know: God Shit, Not in Hell, Guardian Angel and Silent Hill. It could be any one of them, but he's noticed that Silent Hill maybe a girl, so he dismisses it. Returning to the users, only one is active, the others have not spoken to date, despite the fact that they are registered and that makes it more difficult... especially since man is related to magic, the occult and those things, hardly he can dismiss one and only because he's sure Guardian Angel is too bright for someone he know deals with demons, leaving him with the last two.

"I'll find out eventually. "He declares and Marinette knows it's true, one way or another he will. She hoped that didn't imply any international problem, considering that John lives in England.

"I know." She hugs him tighter before releasing him. "I wish it lasted longer, but I have to finish packing... Rest, Damian. I will come in the morning to say goodbye, I love you. "

Marinette gets up, but not before leaving another kiss on her son's head and then leaving the room.

Damian watches her go and his head begins to form a plan to take advantage of his mother's departure.

He will find the lover and question him (he will also threaten him a lot).

----------

Marie L. @MarieLenoir

It's always a pleasure to contribute to a good cause. Istanbul wait for us.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

I also want to travel, how unfair it's to be trapped in Paris

Dick Grayson @TheFlyingGrayson

The vigilantes of this city feel very happy or maybe Batman is too gloomy

Roy @RoyHarperQ

@TheFlyingGrayson Probably, although Green Arrow can be very gloomy when he wants

Jason @IAmYisus_XD

@TheFylingGrayson yes, well, it's that Batman is the living reflection of Gotham... gloomy and a piece of shit

-------

Damian gets up early and rushes into his mother's room to get Plagg out and talk to him, the night before he placed an order for various types of gourmet cheeses and his beloved Camembert cheese (specifically Camembert from Normandy), to please the more exotic tastes of the little god (especially since he has money that he doesn't use and has been accumulating for too long and this was a strategic move for information).

He takes him to his room, Longg is already awake and looks at him without much surprise, deciding to ignore the situation, knowing that he's a boy on a mission, the best thing to do is wait and advise him in a timely manner.

"Plagg, I need you to tell me the name of my mother's lover."

"Boy, as much as you want to say it, I won't betray... What's that?" The little cat asks noticing that the computer screen is on a website that he knows well, that's where Marinette asks for some cheese on occasion.

"That is the cheese order I made for you, if you tell me the name, of course, otherwise, I will cancel... All those cheeses that mother only allows you to eat once every three months, lost by a man." Damian smiles when he sees the excitement shining in Plagg's green eyes, he is sure he will say him.

"Did you ask for Camembert?"

"The original, Camembert of Normandy. "

Plagg is in conflict, so many delicious cheeses at his fingertips.

"When you get back from Turkey, they'll be here waiting for you." Damian keeps pushing for the name, he needs to know it, and besides Felix, Plagg is the only one who knows him and the little god is easier to convince. "You just have to give me a name. "

"FINE! Don't torture me, boy. "

"So?"

"John Constantine, blond, out of the same hell. You will recognize him immediately, he never quits the damn cigarette. I don't know how Marinette enjoys being with him, it's all the unpleasantness of humans combined in the same man. ”Plagg says wearily. "I better see those cheeses when I get back or I'll cry with Marinette about how cruel you were to me. "

"I think we all know that's impossible." Longg intervenes from his location, away from both of them. He watches with a little amusement the interaction of both, he knows that to obtain that Plagg decides to cooperate normally requires less moral methods. "It would be more credible that you were cruel to my dragon. "

"I can use blackmail, however, you're warned, boy. I can also cause nightmares. ”Plagg leaves the room to give his warning, returning to Marinette.

Damian smiles and goes back to bed satisfied, waiting for his mother to say goodbye and to plan how he will get to that man to talk. He pulls out his phone and starts checking group chats, Not the MT is always one of the most active, although Let's save Adrien is also usually enough active when they plan crazy and ridiculous ways to get rid of Lila Rossi, Adrien's wife.  Among the most extreme forms is sending her to hell or offering her as a sacrifice to some ancient god in America, although he knows that they will not do that, because only his mother can and she doesn't approve (she also scared them telling her about how everything can go wrong and condemn them all to hell, no one ever mentioned it again later.)

After a while finishing reviewing all the conversation that followed about the vigilantes and as the other heroes they know or admire got sidetracked, he leaves his phone aside and lets Picatso jump on him purring happy to be petted, the puppies seem they share the idea and they also get into bed... the best they can, although their jumping skills leave a lot to be desired, at least they are creative dogs.

Several minutes later, after feeling sorry for Ringo and putting him to bed, Marinette, completely groomed, gives him a funny but affectionate look before fully entering and sitting on the bed.

"Felix will be here soon, do you want to have breakfast with me before I leave?"

"Of course, mother."

She smiles and takes Titus in her arms to carry him with her, Damian takes Ringo when he gets up and Milo jumps out of bed to go after them, with Picatso following close behind. Ícaro continues sleeping.

-----

Bruce Wayne is Batman

I can jump from eighth floor and survive: Who changed the name of the chat?

I'll rest when I die: The same one that changed our names ... at least it's right

Hell rejected me : I think it gives us more personality than our names

I can jump from eighth floor and survive: Ok?

I can jump from eighth floor and survive: So! Since we will spend several days in Paris, I thought it would be good to wait a little to see the routes without them knowing about our presence

Hell rejected me: So yeah you are going to show up

I’ll rest when I die: It seems so, although from what I discovered patrols take turns in pairs or trios, last night only the sighting of Byakko and Genbu was recorded.

I’ll rest when I die: And last night it was Pyxis and Caelum

Nothing escapes me: They must have a very well protected base of operations, perhaps magic, I identified a network that connects all of Paris, but not the source

Nothing escapes me: I deciphered the accessible code, but it's incomplete. I don't think I can go any further

I can jump from eighth floor and survive: That only tells us how competent they are, I think we can get to know them and not meddle more in their affairs

Hell rejected me: Considering that all your interest is sexual, yep it's posible

I'm not Batman: What are you talking about?

--------

Max is not usually frustrated much, he has had to develop his patience and mental strength to solve the problems he encounters, but among the attempt to find the source of the MT by an unknown hacker (although if he must guess it must be related to the bats) and appreciates the magical defenses that only allow just a bit to crack all the code, just the general parts that don't show anything from the entire system. Of course, he could hack back and issue fixed, preventing him from trying again, but his priority is developing a new algorithm for butterfly detection, the old one was unfortunate when tested with one of Duusu's feathers (being that they share the same characteristics).

He has not slept the last twenty-four hours and is beginning to resent, but he must wait for Marc's arrival to be able to drop into one of the beds at the base for a little nap, if someone else comes with him, much better, so they can check all manual while he rests.

With Marinette and Felix going on a trip, it's inevitable that the leadership will fall into the hands of Chloe, who seems ready to go to war at the first hint of the butterfly (also Kagami, but she's leaving more ready to go on a murder mission).

This is not how he thought everything would go, they had seven years of preparation and at the moment of truth, none of them really knows which direction to take. Marinette and Felix are very determined to analyze the whole situation from a general perspective, looking at each variable and, while he agree, most of the team seems to want to just go after the thief and take away the jewel, without fully considering that this new villain's way of acting is much more lethal, his Akuma are well thought out to generate problems for them if they make any mistakes, as happened with the last attack if it wasn't for the second chance they would have lost (Luka explained what happened).

"Good morning..." Marc comes in yawning, his hair totally disheveled and still wearing his pajama bottoms, but with a dark blue sweatshirt on. He decided to sleep at the headquarters the night before to facilitate his arrival, in the same way Luka and Alix, because their work schedules allow it (advantages of being their own boss).

"Good morning, today you can dedicate yourself to review the surveillance cameras... although so far none have caught the butterfly."

"Okay, I'll check."

"I'll leave you then, I'll go to sleep... will you wake me up when breakfast is served?" Max gets up from his chair and feels his bones creak with movement, resentful at his disuse.

"Sure." He smiles sleepily and adjusts himself to the vacant post, ready to manually check each camera, starting with the ones closest to the last Akuma and starting to rewind to, perhaps, identify something.

He spends about three hours like this, watching the video tapes of at least four cameras from where the Akuma originated, noting that the butterfly is arriving and then the giant rhomb is present, but when he looks for the route... he only loses it, as if it had just appeared near the victim's residence.

There are multiple cameras in that area, but there are still blind points, if someone knows the exact location, they should be able to position themselves in those places. Could it be that the new villain was close to his future victim? Will he live there or did he decide to run to the place? If it's the latter, it makes him bolder than Gabriel, that's for sure, but it should make him more sloppy and still they are unable to find a clue.

According to Max, who was reviewing footage, the first Akuma came out of nowhere. No camera records the butterfly that should have come from somewhere.

So for him there are only two viable alternatives and neither is positive for his research.

Still, the possibilities are various and he can only guess the villain's line of thought.

[yetanothercodetester]

text post

3 May. Bistritz. Left Munich at 8:35 P.M, on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible.

The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh. Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Mem. get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and he said it was called "paprika hendl," and that, as it was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians.

I found my smattering of German very useful here, indeed, I don't know how I should be able to get on without it.

Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the library regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a nobleman of that country.

I find that the district he named is in the extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe.

I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordance Survey Maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk over my travels with Mina.

In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct nationalities: Saxons in the South, and mixed with them the Wallachs, who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the West, and Szekelys in the East and North. I am going among the latter, who claim to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the Huns settled in it.

I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting. (Mem., I must ask the Count all about them.)

I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga", and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata". (Mem.,get recipe for this also.)

I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to the station at 7:30 I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour before we began to move.

It seems to me that the further east you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China?

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side of them to be subject ot great floods. It takes a lot of water, and running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear.

At every station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets, and round hats, and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque.

The women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course there were petticoats under them.

The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, who were more barbarian than the rest, with their big cow-boy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country.

I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with a long double apron, front, and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed and said, "The Herr Englishman?"

"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker."

She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the door.

He went, but immediately returned with a letter:

"My friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.--Your friend, Dracula."

4 May--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my German.

This could not be true,because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questions exactly as if he did.

He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter,and that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all,simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask anyone else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a hysterical way: "Must you go? Oh! Young Herr, must you go?" She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:

"Do you know what day it is?" I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

"Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?"

On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?" She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting.

It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it.

I tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go.

She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me.

I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind.

She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room.

I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix is still round my neck.

Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here comes the coach!

5 May. The Castle.--The gray of the morning has passed, and the sun is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and little are mixed.

I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes.

There are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly.

I dined on what they called "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks, and roasted over the fire, in simple style of the London cat's meat!

The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable.

I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach, the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him talking to the landlady.

They were evidently talking of me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside the door--came and listened, and then looked at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the crowd,so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out.

I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them were "Ordog"--Satan, "Pokol"--hell, "stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and "vlkoslak"--both mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either werewolf or vampire. (Mem.,I must ask the Count about these superstitions.)

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and pointed two fingers towards me.

With some difficulty, I got a fellow passenger to tell me what they meant. He would not answer at first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a charm or guard against the evil eye.

This was not very pleasant for me, just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man. But everyone seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic that I could not but be touched.

I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn yard and its crowd of picturesque figures,all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the yard.

Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered the whole front of the boxseat,--"gotza" they call them--cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or rather languages, which my fellow passengers were speaking, I might not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry. And as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in summertime excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at loading point.

Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks,green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain,which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us.

"Look! Isten szek!"--"God's seat!"--and he crossed himself reverently.

As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was emphasized by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and there we passed Cszeks and slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There were many things new to me. For instance, hay-ricks in the trees, and here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves.

Now and again we passed a leiter-wagon--the ordinary peasants's cart--with its long, snakelike vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of homecoming peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their coloured sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of greyness which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home, but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said. "You must not walk here. The dogs are too fierce." And then he added, with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to catch the approving smile of the rest--"And you may have enough of such matters before you go to sleep." The only stop he would make was a moment's pause to light his lamps.

When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of patch of grey light ahead of us,as though there were a cleft in the hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater. The crazy coach rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each side and to frown down upon us. We were entering on the Borgo Pass. One by one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed upon me with an earnestness which would take no denial. These were certainly of an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with a kindly word, and a blessing, and that same strange mixture of fear-meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotel at Bistritz-- the sign of the cross and the guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned forward, and on each side the passengers, craning over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was evident that something very exciting was either happening or expected, but though I asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest explanation. This state of excitement kept on for some little time. And at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the glare of lamps through the blackness,but all was dark. The only light was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which the steam from our hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could see now the sandy road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle. The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone, I thought it was "An hour less than the time." Then turning to me, he spoke in German worse than my own.

"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all. He will now come on to Bukovina, and return tomorrow or the next day, better the next day." Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the flash of our lamps as the rays fell on them, that the horses were coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes,which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us.

He said to the driver, "You are early tonight, my friend."

The man stammered in reply, "The English Herr was in a hurry."

To which the stranger replied, "That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend. I know too much, and my horses are swift."

As he spoke he smiled,and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's "Lenore".

"Denn die Todten reiten Schnell." ("For the dead travel fast.")

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's luggage," said the driver, and with exceeding alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel. His strength must have been prodigious.

Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept into the darkness of the pass. As I looked back I saw the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,and projected against it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off they swept on their way to Bukovina. As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely feeling come over me. But a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent German--

"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the country) underneath the seat, if you should require it."

I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was there all the same. I felt a little strangely, and not a little frightened. I think had there been any alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again, and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so. I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention to delay.

By-and-by, however, as I was curious to know how time was passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch. It was within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road, a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.

At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance, from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and a sharper howling, that of wolves, which affected both the horses and myself in the same way. For I was minded to jump from the caleche and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the horses so far became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to stand before them.

He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary effect, for under his caresses they became quite manageable again, though they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking his reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the far side or the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which ran sharply to the right.

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel. And again great frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my fear. The driver, however, was not in the least disturbed. He kept turning his head to left and right, but I could not see anything through the darkness.

Suddenly, away on our left I saw a fain flickering blue flame. The driver saw it at the same moment. He at once checked the horses, and, jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer. But while I wondered, the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated endlessly, and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare. Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the darkness around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where the blue flame arose, it must have been very faint, for it did not seem to illumine the place around it at all, and gathering a few stones, formed them into some device.

Once there appeared a strange optical effect. When he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same.This startled me, but as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and we sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the wolves around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.

At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright.I could not see any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether. But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear.It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import.

All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had some peculiar effect on them.The horses jumped about and reared, and looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see.But the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, and they had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through the ring and to aid his approach, I shouted and beat the side of the caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from the side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and the wolves disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon.

We kept on ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in the main always ascending.Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light,and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 22/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

"What does that give us?" Leia asked, looking over Rose's shoulder as she typed.

They were working in what could only be called a basement. Daylight crept through a dusty air vent, struggling to illuminate the room. Inside sat several tables, all of which were covered with some combination of food containers, dossiers, loose leaf papers and computer equipment.

A third member, a thirty-something blonde woman named Kaydel Connix, was perched on the used antique sofa on the opposite side of the room. Every now and then she took a sip from a can of Dr. Pepper.

“Not bad,” Rose replied. “Our videos generated some buzz online but the articles weren’t too widely shared. Ecology did a blog post on the First Order’s building projects which was picked up by WWF and Greenpeace. It was shared on Twitter a couple thousand times including by a few celebrities. But that’s not enough. The donation petition circling among university faculty will only give us ten or twenty thousand dollars at most. It’ll barely be enough to cover litigation costs if the plan falls through.”

“We will win,” Leia assured her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “And when we do, the damages that FORCE will be responsible for will easily cost millions, believe me.”

Rose turned to face her aging mentor. “Leia, what if we don’t make it this time?”

Leia resisted the urge to answer indirectly, preferably with a metaphor. She could tell that Rose needed something more, a moment of honesty from the heart. She closed her eyes briefly, centering herself.

“Then we start over, we seek allies elsewhere. We are the spark of hope, that will light the fire, that will burn the First Order down.”

Rose nodded, pursing her lips. The stakes were high. All their forces had been on the ground for months, setting the stage for the ultimate blow that would take this multinational corporation down. They were everywhere: reaching out to PR personnel, leading demonstrations in the streets, blasting their message on social media, speaking to local officials, and even doing international relations. Their entire strategy rested on the element of surprise and the high volume of media attention that the results of the trial would achieve. If the chain of events faltered even slightly, FORCE would have an unequivocal victory.

But as the big day approached, their little band of rebels looked ever weaker.

Their secret informant and metaphorical  coal mine canary, Galen Erso, risked his livelihood every day. His true identity was only known by the Skywalkers and their lawyer, Amilyn. He was at the mercy of Hux and Phasma. They ran a tight ship; Lord knew what means they had to control every aspect of operations within the First Order. They could have already decided to monitor his every move for suspicious activity.

The Earth Soldiers legal team, led by Amilyn, also consisted of Larma D’Acy and Gial Ackbar, who along with their assistants and paralegals formed a team of twenty four. In addition, a small army of volunteers around the United States formed the basis of their campaign. It was absolutely imperative that all eyes were on the California Supreme Court in San Francisco as the verdict came out. Leia and Rose were the primary mouthpieces in the media, appearing publicly to attract large crowds.

The final piece of their plan relied on the incriminating contents of a micro-SD chip that would once and for all obliterate the credibility of the First Order. It was currently in the hands of an English tourist, who had just finished taking a proper bath and playing fetch with a small orange dog.

“What about the documents?” Rose sighed in frustration. “Are you sure this girl is going to deliver them in one piece, on time? What if she misplaces them or something?”

“We’re definitely taking a risk here. But she doesn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. All she wants to do is to get from point A to point B. The rest is up to her, and honestly her lack of itinerary is perfect for avoiding traps.”

“But..what if Kylo and his cult are on to her? That haven’t returned to the headquarters in a while, have they?”

“They’re always on the field, just out of sight. They can interrogate her all they want, it’s perfectly safe. She knows absolutely nothing.”

“Safe, even for her?”

Leia’s face fell for a moment. She had picked this girl out herself. A troubled young woman who had trusted her easily, who had jumped so readily at the task. But she had been surrounded by Kylo’s team for days now, which was worrisome indeed.

Kylo had a reputation for being cold and shrewd—he could very well decide to end this little game of hide-and-seek by robbing the girl blind and leaving her on the side of the highway—or worse yet, in a ditch. Even if he didn’t realize  what she happened to be carrying, he could easily ensure that none of it arrived in one piece.  

Rose (ever the realist) wondered why he hadn’t done so already.

Deep inside, Leia felt a gnawing pant of guilt: she had thrown this innocent girl to the wolves. Whatever happened, it was her responsibility now. But whether out of naïveté or foolhardiness, she chose to ignore the direst possibilities.

She carried on as though both the girl and the micro-SD were going to arrive unscathed—she had no room for error.

Rose held no such convictions, and it occurred to the young woman that Leia, mother of the infamous Kylo Ren, could never truly imagine the horrors that her own son was capable of. Did she still think of him as the awkward child that she often sang to sleep? How long could she keep living in denial? Kylo worked for FORCE, for Snoke and Hux. He had chosen his side. He had turned his back on the shining enterprise built by his ancestors in favor of fame and fortune, accusing his mother of being a miserly harpie.

Ironically, Rose was sure that Armitage Hux or Syed Ren would agree with her assessment: the compassion, nay, the complacency, Kylo had shown when it came to Rey was beyond comprehension.

Did they suspect she was an Earth Soldiers operative? It would be easy enough to get her alone and talking. Perhaps they would even resort to more aggressive tactics if necessary.

What if they saw her as no more than a diversion? They could make sure she had a healthy fear of their field agents, catch-and-release style.

If the evidence was anything to go by, Rose suspected that the great Kylo Ren was in love. And he was capable of anything.

Hux remained silent as Syed went over the details of her proposal over the phone. He certainly had a card to play now—but which one?

He had known Ben Solo since university, almost back before he rejected his name in favor of Kylo Ren. But their relationship had always been volatile.

Armitage, despite being the son of a reputable military officer, had been forced to juggle multiple jobs to pay for a potion of his studies. It was humiliating, but his father was convinced that it was necessary to “build character”. His assigned roommate was a large, melancholic oaf, the preppy sort with a family inheritance and whatnot. An inheritance which was promptly spent by the boy’s parents on charity and frivolous ideas of changing the world.

Kylo lost his father—a subject he rarely discussed—and was raised in part by his uncle as well as his own mother, who served in the military. An outsider for the most part, he got in to Harvard thanks to the goodwill (or rather the strong will) of the new head of the Skywalker family enterprise. His mother’s last name, synonymous with his grandfather’s legacy, opened many doors for him.

Personally, Armitage had always wondered what debt Snoke was keen on repaying the Skywalker family by graciously taking their problem child under his wing.

The difference between the two classmates was clear from the start. Ben Solo hated his family’s lack of interest in his life, all while still profiting off of the success of the glorious Skywalker enterprise to pay for his studies. Meanwhile, Hux worked in various service jobs, cleaning floors, stocking shelves, and working behind restaurant counters to pay for food, rent, and various educational expenses.

They walked the line between friendship and enmity. Some days they were drinking buddies, other times they competed for the attention of girls, or for academic recognition among their peers and professors. No doubt they compared test scores.

Harvard diploma in hand, Hux was ecstatic to start working as a financial manager for the First Order. Snoke, at the very least, recognized his competence and his intrinsic value. But Ben Solo—now insisting on the title Kylo Ren like the capricious bastard he was—was almost immediately promoted to Director of Operations. A highly prestigious post that not only put him outside of Hux’s chain of command, and gave him nearly absolute freedom on the field.

Once more, Kylo Ren’s accursed heritage guaranteed him a better place, one that Hux deserved but could never hope to achieve despite his hard work.

Presently, FORCE hoped to generate massive revenue from a mine in the northern regions of Hoopa Valley. On paper, they would be mining for iron ore buried deep underground while producing thousands of jobs in the region. Behind the scenes it was all Hux’s team: they kept the corruption under wraps, signed deals with local providers, and privately represented FORCE in every dealing. But of course it was always Kylo Fucking Ren who appeared publicly before the cameras, with his wind-swept hair and cool-guy demeanor.  

Once again, it was Hux who had to face criticism and take the insurmountable legal risks when the matter was dragged into court, all while Ren continued to receive honors and congratulations.

But Snoke wouldn’t remain president forever. He was old and ailing, his liver jaundiced and his lungs weak from pulmonary disease. Following his termination, and the success of this mine, Hux’s achievements would eclipse the old brute, not to mention that of the prodigal son, Ben Solo-Skywalker, whose heritage would be annihilated.

Ben was a go-getter, as passionate as he was brutal. He detested strategy and calculation, preferring to jump directly  into the fray. It would be easy to clip his wings when Hux assumed total control.

In fact, Hux now had the perfect justification. Kylo had committed a grave error in his most recent bout of passion: he was enamored with this nomadic girl, and according to  Syed Ren, he would do anything for her.

He would lose everything.

“Syed, are you still there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you for the intel. The photos were a particularly nice touch. I never doubted your loyalty, or your competence.”

Syed waited silently for Hux to gather his thoughts.

“Kylo Ren’s mission,” he continued, “is to determine Rey Jakku’s relationship with Earth Soldiers, and take action accordingly. Are you certain, after a mere seventy-two hours, that there is no connection?”

“Absolutely, sir. The girl is a diversion, driving the Millenium Falcon around to attract our attention while Skywalker’s team is plotting. We’re wasting time.”

“And did you inform Kylo Ren of your findings?”

“Yes. He chose not to take my advice.”

Hux closed his eyes, pausing. It was time to risk it all. While the loyalty of the Knights of Ren had proven unquestionable in the past, Syed Ren seemed to have a very exploitable weakness in the form of hate and jealousy.

“Who do you work for, Syed Ren?”

She hesitated, looking for a trap in his words. The answer seemed obvious but she struggled with it. “For Kylo Ren, sir.”

“Really, are you on his payroll, then?”

“Yeah...well—no! No, I work for FORCE. I work for you, sir.”

“Very well. Now I propose a new mission, one which will determine the very future of FORCE.”

“I don’t know if...”

“You don’t have to decide now. Just hear me out, and do what you like.”

“Okay. I’m...I’m listening.”

A few minutes later, Hux hung up. He ran a hand through his hair, his tell-tale sign of nervousness. If everything went to plan, if Syed Ren was as bitter and blinded by rage as he hoped, perhaps she would finally turn on her master and her precious acolyte friends. She would work for him—he had promised her money, a veritable fortune, but most of all, a chance to exact her revenge upon Kylo Ren. She would be able to smite him for rejecting her and turning her into an unwilling babysitter.

Her wrath would be glorious.

[in-a-cave-with]

What are your favorite fanfictions based in any of the Marvel comics universes?

ok this is certainly a . question. lmao . so i..have bookmarked like Three 616 fic on my actual ao3 account and i honestly dont know why. i have read so much 616 fic but i never bothered to make it a habit to .. save them . so rip me. this will be an incomplete list! huge f in the chat lads

there’s also the issue of like. pretty much all of the comics fic i like being, uh, stevetony. im a loser.

anyway.

When The Lights Go On Again by elspethdixon, seanchaiSummary: Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.rec note: i JUST read this fic and it ruined my life. go read it and ruin your life too

Resurrection, Reconstruction & Redemption by elspethdixon, seanchaiSummary: Doom brings Steve back from the dead. Hijinks ensue, some of which might vaugely be considered plot.rec note: a classic! i think this was the first stevetony fic posted to ao3? you should def go ahead and read the rest of the series (yes it is a series yes it is 300k+ words yes it is worth it)

The Roughest Day by elspethdixon, seanchaiSummary: Steve is in a motorcycle accident, Tony catches a cold, and someone is after the New Avengers.rec note: this gives me warm fuzzies because it’s the new avengers avenging and there isn’t enough of that

King of Infinite Space by elspethdixon, seanchaiSummary: A villain from Tony’s past comes back to cause trouble for the Avengers. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy, if things weren’t already so awkward over the events of Execute Program.rec note: it’s not a tony stan created reclist if there isn’t a tiberius stone fic somewhere on it

Winter Is All Over You by KiyaarSummary: Tony can’t remember why he’s running.rec note: *soft wheezing noises* oh,

My Mallory Heart [Add Violence Remix] by KiyaarSummary: He keeps seeing that bundle of metal set into Tony’s bare chest, the raw edges around it like Tony’s body was rejecting it. Keeps wondering: what have you done to yourself this time.rec note: *incoherent blubbering*

Sea Stars by MuccamukkSummary: Steve comes back to life somewhere entirely unexpected; Tony doesn’t remember being a hero; something is rotten in the province of British Columbia, and the 2010 Olympics are doomed.rec note: i LIVE for this fic it’s so good. the setting…the mystery…the characterization…top notch

Indelible by PenumbrenSummary: When an experiment goes awry, Tony thinks he may have found an answer to his problems and Steve faces something he’s been avoiding for a very long time.rec note: this turned out to be way sadder than i thought it was going to be

(Not So) Lonely At The Top by foldingcranesSummary: Riri has a bad day, and Tony tries to be An Emotionally Available Adult for her. It doesn’t go so bad.rec note: there isn’t enough riri fic out there…

if you leave by CapnShellheadSummary: After so many months passing each other in silence, Steve and Tony find a marriage counselor to try to work through their issues with communication.rec note: warning: fic is akin to a bat swung to the knees

Marvels: The Bloodstone Odyssey by teaberryblueSummary: The year is 1940. In the middle of the Blitz, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts set out to London to recover Howard Stark’s lost work. But it turns out that they’re not the only ones hunting for it. Tony finds himself contending with Nazis, crooks, and perhaps his most formidable adversary yet: a scrawny, asthmatic, bullheaded kid named Steve Rogers.rec note: this gives me huge indiana jones vibes and it’s GREAT

Emanata (The Comics Will Break Your Heart Remix) by teaberryblueSummary: Steve Rogers has the opportunity to fulfill his childhood dreams of becoming a comic artist when eccentric billionaire, superhero patron, and obsessive comic enthusiast Tony Stark offers him a job drawing Iron Man. But Tony Stark has no idea that Steve Rogers is really Captain America, the newest member of the Avengers. And Iron Man has no idea that Captain America is really Steve Rogers, up-and-coming comic book artist. And Steve doesn’t know what to do about the fact that he’s falling head over heels for them both.rec note: this one has a special place in my heart bc it’s the one that got me into 616 stevetony! the identity shenanigans make my head hurt and i love it

Genesis by teaberryblueSummary: Reluctant to make the truth about their secret weapon known, the American Government tells the world that Captain America is a man named Steve Rogers. According to public record, he died, tragically, in 1945, and he became legend. In 1998, the Avengers find a body trapped in ice. She’s alive. Her name is Eve. She has Captain America’s shield.rec note: i think this is the..only steve centric fic here lmao . and also technically this is a mix of 616/mcu/ults but i’m still putting it here bc it’s…very good

Highest fall you’ll ever grace by laireshiSummary: “You’ll probably want these back,” Tony says at last, and it hurts almost physically to pull the dog tags over his head and offer them to Steve. But they never really belonged to Tony, did they? Steve seems to hesitate for a second, but then he takes his dog tags with a weird expression. “Yeah,” he says. “They’re mine.”rec note: *clutches heart* hhhh

Transmission by laireshiSummary: The incursions are stopped. Steve hopes for things to go back to normal. Instead, he finds himself stranded in an alternate universe with Tony. Getting home won’t be easy. There are too many things they haven’t told each other, too many arguments they’ve never solved. Now, with just each other for company, they might have to face them all—especially as they seem to be telepathically bonded, and can’t keep anything unsaid anymore.rec note: oh boy am i a sucker for Stevetony Finding Out About The Confession

Chasing Shadows by laireshiSummary: Steve is still adjusting to the future. Tony hopes he is helping, but Steve’s and Iron Man’s morals might be too different for them to work together. Then Steve starts to act strangely, and all Tony can do is chase at shadows.rec note: this fic hurt me . that’s it that’s all i have to say

The Counselors Are In by cptxrogersSummary: Steve and Tony from Avengers Assemble open a counseling service for all the other Steves and Tonys from across the multiverse. God knows they need it.rec note: come on Other Universes GET IT TOGETHER

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by SinealaSummary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.rec note: ok here comes the sineala spam in the reclist lmao

The Jar by SinealaSummary: The Avengers are ridiculously competitive people, and what starts out as a silly late-night team discussion quickly becomes a contest: their names. Not the code names – the nicknames. Who can go the longest without using them? They pledge to spend a week not nicknaming each other, and they’ll pay up every time they mess up. This hits Tony the hardest, and not just financially. Tony’s got a lot of nicknames for everyone, but most of all for Steve – and when Tony can’t use the names he’s already got, the names he uses reveal feelings he had no idea he had.rec note: super cute! lov those funky avenging dudes

Changeling by SinealaSummary: Instead of deleting his entire brain and reloading from a backup, Tony attempts to erase just the SHRA database from his mind. As Steve later finds out, this is unfortunately not what he actually did.rec note: *ugly sobbing* ttngngjfgnTONY ,.,,,,CAROLLLLL ,,FDF..,,KSDJBVSD ,,,S T E V E..,,,, FVKJD,,,,SFDJKDNFVNKDJFD

If You Want to Live (The Historical Present Remix) by SinealaSummary: The Civil War is over. The SHRA is gone. Steve has been brought back to life. He’s settling into his new duties as America’s top cop. His longtime friendship with Carol Danvers – Avenger, former director of SHIELD, and former leader of the pro-Registration forces – is now a tenuous one. But something is very wrong in the world. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Someone is missing. Tony Stark was killed at the age of seventeen, and it’s up to Steve to travel into the past to save a man he doesn’t remember from a man he knows all too well: a mysterious assassin from another time and place, a man with a metal arm. And the truth is more complicated than anyone could ever have guessed.rec note: super interesting fic! the Plot is,,……. some güd shit

Straight on till Morning by SinealaSummary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he’d never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony’s own design. What’s more, the Avenger’s captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive… and very, very attractive. But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own – and the truth could change everything.rec note: ok there is, like, really weird porn in this fic but it’s a STAR TREK CROSSOVER and that’s all that really matters. and also it’s very heartfelt and the action is  r e a l l y   i n t e n s e

Your Name on Every Wall by SinealaSummary: The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he’s ever going to be able to mend things between them.rec note: wow…….stevetony…….. am i right boys?

Get Some Now by SinealaSummary: Avengers Mansion has a mysterious feline infestation. Meanwhile, Steve just can’t figure out how to ask Tony out on a date. And the thirteen teleporting cats sure aren’t helping matters any.rec note: as you all may know. i am an active member of the “tony…..but give him a cat” movement and this fic brings me great joy

Sucker Punch by Sineala Summary: Steve never quite warms to Tony Stark, Avengers benefactor. The Molecule Man never strips Iron Man out of his armor. Life goes on for the Avengers, but as disagreements split the team – and Shellhead and Winghead – again and again, Steve wonders why Iron Man always picks Tony over him. And when Steve finds out, it happens in the worst way possible.rec note: and here is a fic that does NOT bring me great joy and instead goes out of its way to hurt me in every way it can

Tony Stark Advises The Avengers by copperbadgeSummary: Somehow, Tony Stark ended up Team Dad.rec note: ANAD AVENGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zero Sum by CraitSummary: Did you do your best, Anthony? And did your best only make things worse?rec note: let ao3 user crait write marvel comics, they clearly understand tony’s character better than anyone who’s written him in the past 10 years

[melyaliz]

It’s Raining Gods

Part two of April Showers

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Loki just wanted to continue his conversation with the girl who had built a shrine to him.

Pairing: Loki x OC

Notes: The second part to a story I wrote a million years ago. This part just came to me and MAYBE there will be a third. Idk. Honestly just silly nothingness, sometimes I like just writing for the sake of writing.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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Once upon a time, there was a girl, who met a god. Which was cool I guess, if this girl hadn’t met this god while basically creating an exhibit for him and his family. It’s like a pop star coming into your bedroom and finding your walls littered with all his posters or some actor submitting across your fan-website.

Only this god could kill you with a twitch of his eye.

Or at least turn you into a bug.

Both possibilities weren’t outside the realm of possibilities with this god.

And if anyone knew that it was April, after all, she had a master’s in it.

And that was BEFORE He had tried to take over the world, or at least New York.

So yeah, once upon a time there was a girl who met a god. And has assumed after not being killed or turned into a three-headed dog (wrong evil god) she would never see that god again.

Oh, how wrong she was.

-------

“Delivery for Miss April.”

A slightly pug-faced looking woman looked up face suddenly lighting up at the sight of Loki standing there holding the box. “Oh you’re new,” she said leaning on the door gently pulling down her shirt to expose just a bit more cleavage. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Loki.

Unlike April, this girl clearly didn’t know who he was.

Good.

“I have a package here for April,” he said again.

“I can take that if you want, I’m her coworker.” the girl said leaning forward.

“I would rather deliver it to her myself,” Loki said smoothly already getting very annoyed at this woman who was standing in his way. After last week’s opening, he hadn’t been able to get the young museum's curator. She had peppered him with questions all night, eyes filled with curiosity and admiration.

And if there was one thing Loki lobed it was admiration.

The problem was he was kind of a wanted man and couldn’t quite just waltz into the museum. Especially after being noticed last time.

Although that had worked well in his favor last time.  

“Well she’s working in the back room, do you want me to show you where it is? It’s kind of…”

“I’m good thanks”

Before the woman could say anything else Loki was halfway down the hall clutching the box.

“You were doing the ugly with THOR?!?” a woman’s voice stopped him in his tracks. The loud whisper was not April’s. Frowning he took a few more steps so he could get a closer look. A petite dark haired girl who was obviously pregnant was standing here waving her arms and basically jumping up and down in excitement.

Honestly, his brother wasn’t THAT exciting.

“No Carrie, his brother” April came into frame shaking her head as she handed the other girl a cup of water.

Instinctively the pregnant woman, Carrie’s, hand went to her stomach “Loki? The guy who tried to destroy New York?”

Loki rolled his eyes, of course, protect the children, evil Loki May appear at the mention of his name. Although he did come when a whole exhibit was about him so what did that say?

“Was he hot?” Both April and Loki looked at Carrie startled. Lokie smiled leaning forward, yes was he? “What,” Carrie waved away her friend’s shocked expression, “I mean he has that kind of I’m a bad boy in bed, kind of vibe. Did you guys... do it under his likeness”

Ok, he liked this woman.

“No, we didn’t do it I was more worried about him turning me into a bug or something. But yeah... he was...”

“Brother!”

Loki let out the most undignified scream as he basically jumped out of his skin. Behind him, Thor stood in a delivery uniform as well. However, his was of a competitor to Loki’s.

Of course, it was.

Both women turned at the sound and April looked like she was about to vomit.

This wasn’t happening.

Her friend, on the other hand, had a totally different reaction.

“Dude, I don’t think we can be friends anymore. You’re like… famous now.”  

“I… Kill me now Carr.”

“No way I need to see what happens. HELLO BOYS!”

Both brothers turned and Thor stored right up to Carrie taking her hand.

“I am Thor Odinson and I am here to see the woman who has caught the attention of my brother.”

“Well it’s not me, the only attention I can catch is from one night stands who leave me pregnant.”

Thor stood there for a beat taking her in as if gauging his response. Leave it to Carrie to make even a god feel awkward. “I don’t know how anyone would want to leave such a beautiful woman as yourself.” was his smooth response. Guess it wasn’t that awkward. 

Next to Carrie April prayed to whatever gods weren’t in this room that the ground would swallow her up whole.

Then again maybe if she prayed to the ones here there was a better chance of it happening. Since they all insisted on touching her anyway. 

“We were leaving,” Loki said putting a hand on Thor trying to pull his brother away. This was NOT how this was supposed to happen. He was going to bring April an artifact from Asgard and have her tell him how cool he was while asking him a million questions about it. Not have his brother hit on some knocked up woman.

“But you haven't met April yet,” Carrie said, obviously enjoying this way more than she should. April looked from the girl back to Loki. please don't hurt her, she’s my best friend.

“April!” Thor said taking her hand in his,

“Schauer…” April said, “My parents hated me.”

“Well April Schauer it is so fascinating to meet you, I hear you are quite an expert on our history.”

“As it is told on earth,” April said, her eyes glancing from the large blonde man to his brother. Just waiting for all of this to go horribly wrong.

Or more wrong than it already was.

“She’s just being modest.” Carrie said, “It’s amazing, already won several awards or whatever these nerds call it. Come on I’ll show you.”

Thor held his arm out for Carrie, “Lead the way…”

“Carrie Fan, my parents didn’t hate me,” Carrie said taking his arm “Or they didn’t until this,” she said motioning to her swollen stomach as she lead the god of thunder toward the exhibit leaving Loki and April in the office. It was after Carrie had disappeared that April noticed the box that Loki was gripping so tightly she wondered how it hadn’t broken yet. Maybe some sort of magic?  

“Is that the coins you promised me the night of the opening?”

“Yes”

“May I?” she asked holding out her hands to take the box. He shoved them toward her before crossing his arms frustration building. This was ridiculous. How did Thor even know he was here? He had not even mentioned her to anyone.

“I honestly didn’t assume you would. Or even come back really” April said as she opened the box. Her eyes focused on the contents of the box and not on the god of mischief.   

That was when he realized he had said that allowed.

“These are amazing,” April gushed putting on a glove before picking one up, “the intricate detailing are beautiful. I know just where to put these.” She looked up at him with a large smile, “Thank you.”

It was stupid, and Loki later just told himself he was only doing this because he liked how interested she was in him, but at that moment he felt like his heart speed up just for a second.

“So while Carrie distracts your brother, last time you were here you were telling me about the time you talked your brother into dressing up as a bride to take down an enemy?”

“Yes, it was all my idea actually and while I could have very easily been the one I mean... “

“God of Mischief, Also the image on Thor in a bridal dress seems too good to pass up.”

“Exactly.”

Once upon a time, there was a girl, who met a god. And the while everyone said that god was a scary monster she found him to be very agreeable company.

And also didn’t turn her into a bug. No matter how many questions she asked him. 

-GET TAGGED!-

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @daisyboobear​​ @werewitchling​​  @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

Loki: @wayward-hell​

[bectheanxiousravenclaw]

Scavenger Hunt

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC 

Word Count: 2389

Warnings: excessive fluff, mentions of underage consensual sex and underage drinking

Summary: Sweet Pea sends you on a scavenger hunt leading to the best present ever.

I had just arrived home after a very long day at work. Opening the door, I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up on the couch with my boyfriend and go to sleep.

           “Sweets?” I yelled into the trailer we shared. “Hey babe, you home?”

           No response. I walked around the small trailer looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I walked into the kitchen when I saw an envelope on the kitchen table. The envelope was labeled “Kitten”. Smiling, I opened the envelope and pulled out a picture of Sweets and I. It was an older picture of us, from when we started dating in high school. In the picture, I was wearing his Serpents jacket and laughing at something Toni had said while he was kissing my cheek. That picture had been the background on my phone throughout high school. Turning the picture around, I noticed his handwriting on the back.

           “Y/N, you are so beautiful. The first day I saw you, I knew that I had to get to know you. Come to the place where it all began to find me. XOXO Sweet Pea.”

           Thinking about it, I realized the place it all began must have been Southside High. That’s where we met, the first day of freshman year. Sighing, I grabbed my car keys and went over to Southside High. I wasn’t particularly in the mood for games after my day at work, but Sweet Pea didn’t often do anything spontaneous and romantic, so I shoved down my annoyance and decided to play along. Getting to Southside High, I walked up to the closed doors. It was a Saturday, so there was no way to get in. When I got to the front door, I noticed a second envelope, this time addressed to “Princess”. Realizing this was some kind of scavenger hunt, I smiled. Hopefully, this scavenger hunt ended with food and a naked Sweet Pea.

I opened the envelope and pulled out another picture. This one had Sweet Pea, Toni, Fangs and I, all holding red cups, raised to the camera. This picture held a special significance, as it was taken the night we first had sex. I was 15, we had been dating 3 months, and he took my virginity at Fangs house during a party. While everyone had been dancing in the living room, we had snuck off to Fangs room. Fueled by alcohol and the beginnings of love, our kissing got out of hand until I was begging him to keep going. Fangs walked in on us after the party died down, as we were starting round three. Fangs shut the door but waited outside to yell at us for defiling his sheets. He was quickly drowned out by the sounds of moaning and just left us alone. I smiled at the memory, turning over the picture to read his note.

           “Y/N, I know you’re probably annoyed at driving all over town, but your reward will be worth it. Do you remember the night this was taken? I sure do. Go to the place where we had sex for the first time. XOXO Daddy”

           I smiled wider this time at his sign off, using one of the many names I called him behind closed doors. I got back in the car and headed off to Fangs house. Once I arrived there, I knocked on the door. Fangs answered the door and smiled. He pulled me inside before handing me a bouquet of red roses, with another letter peaking out of the bouquet. I pulled the letter out, this one addressed to “Babygirl”. Fangs was giddy, practically jumping up and down waiting for me to open it.

           I pulled out a picture from my initiation into the Serpents. I had joined Sweet Pea and all my friends once I turned 18 and my parents could no longer control what I did, not that they had much control before then. They had kicked me out when they found out I initiated. A few days after my birthday, Sweet Pea had walked into my house with Hot Dog. During the second trial at the Whyte Wyrm, I had shouted out each law with confidence and pride. When I had to retrieve the dagger, I had approached the snake cautiously, managing to retrieve the dagger without getting bit. Sweet Pea had pulled me into a hug and called me ‘Babygirl’ in front of everyone, the name sticking and becoming my nickname within the gang. We had all taken a group photo, even managing to get Tall Boy to join in. I was sandwiched between Toni and Sweet Pea, a huge smile on my face, as I only had one trial to go. Each picture was better than the last. I flipped it over and read his note.

           “Y/N, I don’t know if you know it already, but your initiation was one of the proudest moments of my life. Go to the place where you joined the family. XOXO Your babe”

           I hugged Fangs before getting back in the car and driving to the Whyte Wyrm. My initial annoyance was all but forgotten as I was having so much fun with this trip down memory lane. I pulled in to the Whyte Wyrm and practically ran inside. It was unusually empty for a Saturday afternoon, but I didn’t pay it much notice. Cobra was behind the bar and motioned me over when I walked in. He didn’t say a word as he laid another envelope on the bar, next to a brand new bottle of tequila sporting a big red bow. I snatched the envelope labeled “My love”. I smiled, as he rarely ever used that nickname. It was reserved for special occasions.

           I opened the envelope, pulled out a picture, and smiled. The selfie was taken only a few months ago and was currently Sweet Pea’s phone background. It was the two of us up at the Quarry on a summer night. We had driven up there to meet some of the new recruits, and ended up wandering off alone. Sweet Pea grabbed a blanket out of our car and we hiked up the rocky bluffs around the Quarry. At the top, we lay down on the blanket and stared up at all the stars. Sweets had pulled out a bottle of tequila and the two of us started taking shots and trying to name constellations. After a while, he had looked at me and finally said those three little words. Three little words I had been waiting to hear since we started dating 6 years ago at 14. He said, “I love you.” I had stared at him for a minute in shock before tackling him, saying it back and peppering him with kisses. He laughed and said it again, holding my face with one hand while I straddled him. He had kissed me slowly, and for the first time in our long relationship, we made love. It was slow and gentle and so unlike any other time we had sex. It was when he had first referred to me as “My love.” I stopped reminiscing and flipped the picture over to read the message.

           “My Love, Remember how I said that your initiation was one of the proudest moments of my life? Watching you shout the Serpent laws back at FP, looking at me and smiling after each one, was the moment I realized I loved you. I was still scared to say it, so thank you for being so patient with me. Go to the place where I said it for the first time. I love you Y/N. XOXO Your Love.”

           I started tearing up as I read this one. I had never pushed him to say it, knowing he loved me by the way he treated me like I was his whole world. Knowing the exact moment he realized it himself made me all emotional. I gathered the picture and bottle of tequila, offering a quick thanks to Cobra as I walked out. I drove out to the Quarry, breaking several traffic laws on the way. When I pulled up to the usual parking space, I saw some lights.

           I walked toward the lights, noticing Tall Boy holding a candle and standing on the path to the water. I walked past him and saw JT holding another candle. Then Maverick. All along the path were members of the Serpents holding candles, guiding me toward the beach. I passed Jughead, Betty, Toni, FP and Fangs. I noticed that as I past them, they followed behind me. All except FP, who walked next to me, and grabbed my hand in encouragement when he noticed me shaking. The last Serpent before we got to the water was Sweets brother Seb. FP dropped my hand, and Seb gave me a quick hug before pointing in the direction of the water.

           As I turned and looked towards the water, I couldn’t move. There was Sweet Pea, a small campfire on either side of him, surrounded by candles. He had dressed up, wearing black dress pants and a dark green button up under his leather jacket. He was holding a single white rose and started walking towards me. He grabbed my hands in his, pulled them to his lips and kissed them. He pulled me over to the circle of candles he had been in. As I stared up at him in wonder, unshed tears in my eyes, the Serpents formed a circle around us. He leaned down and sat the rose on the ground, and my heart stopped. When he sat down the rose, he picked up a box and moved to kneel before me. Still holding one of my hands in his, he began speaking.

           “Y/N L/N. From the minute I saw you in the ninth grade, I knew I had to know you. You were so full of life and of fire, which burned right through my walls. I never wanted a girlfriend, but one look from you and I was wrapped around your finger. I know our relationship has been hard. You gave up so much to be with me and for that, I will forever be grateful. But I want to promise, right here, in front of our family, our real family, that I will spend the rest of our lives showing you that you made the right decision. I will love you and take care of you forever. You will be my equal in every way. I will never hurt you. I will be the father of your children and I will raise them alongside you. And no matter what, I will wake up every day, thanking whatever higher power there may be, that I get to wake up next to you and love you for eternity.” He dropped my hand, moving to open the box. I was full on crying at this point and I’m pretty sure I heard a sniffle come from Tall Boy. When he opened the box, my breath hitched. He pulled the ring out, grabbing my left hand, as I covered my mouth to keep from making a noise with my right. He placed the ring on my finger. Just like him, the ring was anything but traditional. The silver ring was a snake wrapped around a large emerald, and the snake wrapped around my finger. Surrounding the emerald, on the snakes back, was a row of diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After admiring the ring, I looked into his eyes.

           “Y/N L/N, Babygirl, will you marry me?”

           I pulled my hand away from my mouth and squeaked out a “Yes”, nodding my head in case he didn’t hear me. As soon as the word left my mouth, he leapt up and wrapped me into his arms. He swung me around, lips on mine, as our Serpent family cheered around us. He sat me down a few moments later.

           “I love you so much,” he told me again.

           “I love you too Sweet Pea,” I responded, pulling him in for another hug.

           “All right everybody, she said yes! Looks like we’re having a Serpent wedding soon!” FP yelled to the cheering gang.

           Seb walked up next to FP, clapping him on the shoulder. “But until then, let’s have an old-fashioned Southside party right here, celebrating the happy couple.”

           From out of nowhere, music started playing, some people started dancing, and some people were pulling out marshmallows and sitting by the campfires. Tall Boy and Maverick started setting up a table, with food and drinks for everyone. I stood in Sweet Pea’s embrace, looking at my new ring lovingly. Our close friends came up to us, offering their congratulations. Toni and her girlfriend Ruby pulled me away to gush about the ring, while Fangs and Jughead were jokingly giving Sweet Pea hell over being with one girl for the rest of his life.

           We all stayed out at the Quarry until the early hours of the morning, enjoying gathering for a happy occasion for once. The older members of the Serpents left first, leaving the cleanup to some new recruits. Everyone else staggered home after them until only our friends remained. As Fangs, Toni and Ruby finally got up to leave, they hugged both Sweet Pea and I in congratulations. Finally, the two of us were alone. We were cuddled up on a blanket next to the only remaining fire, enjoying each other’s warmth.

           “Sweets,” I started, looking up into his dark chocolate eyes, “Thank you. For today. For the last 6 years. For everything. I love you.”

           He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before responding. “Y/N, I want to give you the world. I know I’m not usually romantic, but I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you how much I love you.”

           “Well, how about I spend the next few hours showing you exactly how much I appreciate today.”

           He smirked before laying me back onto the sand, and hovering over me. He kissed me, slowly, but full of passion. Just when it was getting good, he pulled back. “I love you.”

           I smiled back at him, “I love you too Sweet Pea.”   

Tag list: @serpent-princess; @podsquads-sinns; @leighlani100; @kytty27; @pea-pod-squad; @kneesheee; @southside-sinner; @bby-simone

[missingverse]

Missing Chapter Twenty Six

So by now the fic has moved quite far from the original idea and is moving closer to the issues surrounding the rest of Arnold and Helga's lives. I'm wondering if I should make this and the next chapter the last two and start another fic about the aftermath? What do the readers think?

Note: Obligatory suggestion to check out my novel on Kindle if you like my work: The Hothouse Princesses by S.A. Hemstock.

…..

Three months on:

Arnold knew his grandfather wasn't happy about letting Ambrose and Helga move into the boarding house, but financially he wasn't really in a position to refuse a paying customer. It looked like the adoption process was going through with no problems, and thanks to Helga's many donated funds she was able to get a ramp installed in the back of the house, as well as repairs done on the ground floor. Even Phil had to admit that it was a relief getting some of the old fixtures replaced.

Curtis Waring's trial was coming up, and although Helga was able to walk with a cane now she couldn't walk for long and would have a permanent limp thanks to a shattered ankle she sustained during her catatonia. It was decided for her own safety that she would stay in the hospital for the duration of the trial, to prevent any backsliding in her condition.

Ambrose moved into the two room apartment without her, and set about making it habitable for a man and a young girl. It hadn't been touched since the last person who lived there moved out seven years before, and had been neglected by both Phil and Arnold since they had all the other rooms to service. Ambrose stripped the dingy wallpaper, tossed the old moth-eaten furniture and gave the whole place a new coat of paint. By the end it barely looked like it belonged in the boarding house.

“Is Helga's trust fund covering all this?” Arnold asked when he stopped by to bring Ambrose a glass of iced tea.  

“I didn't touch none of her money,” Ambrose told him from the ladder he was using to paint the wall sconces. “I have plenty of my own.”

He drove back to his old apartment to collect his furniture and his dog, an old bloodhound named Della. Arnold helped him carry the stuff in, and he was struck by how many classic antique pieces Ambrose owned. Ambrose caught him staring at a particularly fancy chair, and laughed.

“Ed picked out most of this stuff,” he explained. “I didn't care so long as I could sit on the porch of an evenin'. But I figured Helga would like that chair.”

A set of pictures went up on the walls, most of them Ambrose's deceased partner or the two of them together with Della lying in front of them. Arnold liked the look of Ed; a chubby middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a quirky grin. It really was a shame that they'd never been able to adopt together, but he knew Ambrose felt like Ed had sent Helga to him so in some way she was their daughter.

“Ed would've loved her,” Ambrose said once. “He always wanted a little girl, especially a little spitfire.”

Ambrose was as good with Arnold's grandmother as he was with Helga. He was patient with her nonsense rambling, which had just gotten worse since the stroke, and he often helped her out with cooking in the evenings. Phil had been quiet, cautious around him at first, but even he came around eventually when Ambrose offered to take a look at any of the broken fixtures in the house.

“I'll take it out of your rent,” Phil offered. “Since you're saving me a repairman's bill...”

“Nah, keep it,” Ambrose shrugged. “I like to keep busy. Let Della warm herself in the kitchen and we'll call it even.”

But what was best about Ambrose moving in was that now Arnold had a lift every time he visited the hospital, instead of having to make the long journey by bus and staying in that crappy motel overnight. Phoebe hopped in with them sometimes, and even Patrick tagged along though he had a car of his own and was busy with college.

Helga was doing well. She had a good, safe place to live when she got out of the hospital, someone to take care of her the way she deserved and her friends nearby. She would have everything she needed. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Nothing.

…..

On the first day of the trial, reporters showed up on Arnold's doorstep and peppered him with questions as he and Ambrose were trying to leave. He heard at least one ask about him finding the murder scene and a few mentions of the words 'crime forums.'

“No comment,” he managed to remember to say as he barreled through them to Ambroses' truck.

They were worse at the hospital, and were wise to the trick of sneaking Helga out the back. Officer Plaskett covered her with his coat as Ambrose pushed her chair, and by the time they got her into the truck she seemed a little freaked out.

“They had cameras,” she murmured. “I thought they weren't allowed take pictures of me?”

“The gag order is up because you waived anonymity,” Plaskett explained. “Unfortunately, that's what it's going to be like for a while. I'll keep you under wraps as much as I can but realistically a few pictures are going to be released. This case is very high profile.”

Arnold saw her swallow, hard.

“Don't be too nervous,” Plaskett continued. “The defense has been warned to stick to certain topics and not to grill you. The judge will interfere if they get goady, and if you feel like you need a break you just ask for it. Don't push yourself too hard.”

The court was mobbed with reporters, onlookers and a handful of people holding up signs of support or condemnation. There was a pretty shocking amount of people that thought Helga was lying about Waring, and that his other victims were just human garbage that the world didn't miss. The court police cleared a path but they had to carry her up the steps, and Arnold had a feeling that that was an image that would show up on the news that night: Ambrose carrying her bridal-style up the stairs while Plaskett and Arnold lugged her wheelchair behind them.

They were allowed into the courtroom early, to make sure Helga was comfortable and ready. The judge even came in plain clothes to talk to her privately. He looked nice, a grandfatherly type of man, but Plaskett had warned that he was a hard man with a poker face you could never interpret. Waring's lawyer, wearing another painfully expensive suit, came in early too to discuss with the judge.

The jury trickled in, a distinct mix of young and old, men and women from all walks of life. Two black, three vaguely Hispanic, one Asian, four white. According to Plaskett that was a good mix. Spectators and support filled the benches, court reporters took their seats, the prosecuting lawyer arrived too late to talk to Helga but at least looked smart.

Finally, Waring was brought in. In a suit, not even handcuffed, groomed and trimmed to look as normal and nonthreatening as possible.

Even so, Arnold heard Helga draw in a ragged breath and saw her hands clench under the desk.

…..

For three straight hours, Waring's lawyer built up an image of a man who had been accused of nothing more than a misdemeanor. He painted a picture of a shy and quiet man whose desire to keep to himself and live a back-to-nature life in the woods lead to him being accused of murdering prostitutes. He made it sound like the girls who had gone missing from Pocaselas had brought it upon themselves by entering the notoriously risky job of streetwalking.

The prosecution brought up his dishonourable discharge from the military, but even this was dismissed as a petty act by a vengeful ex. By the time Helga was called to the stand, Waring was being painted as a saint with some spiteful enemies.

But even Helga's presence in the court dimmed the lawyer's hard work. The jury looked on sympathetically as she wheeled herself to the bench and was sworn in.

“Could you state your full name for the court, please?” the lawyer began.

“Helga Geraldine Pataki.”

“And, how old are you, Helga?”

“Sixteen.”

“How old were you when you claim to have been involved with my client?”

“I was eleven when he caught me.”

“Caught you? Am I to believe there was a struggle?”

“Yes, he threw something over my head and knocked me to the ground. Then he jabbed me with something.”

“That's a little vague...could you elaborate?”

“A needle. He jabbed me with a needle. Whatever was in it knocked me out.”

“I see....could you tell us where he caught you?”

“In the woods, the hills just outside Hillwood.”

“And what were you doing out there? According to your statement, this was just after dawn, am I right?”

“It was about 8am, I was trying to get downtown early. I spent the night up there.”

“You spent the night in the woods?”

“I had a hideout there, I slept up there sometimes.”

“I see, and what did your parents think of you sleeping in a cave in the woods?”

“They didn't know.”

Helga was impressively stoic on the stand, but Arnold's irritation with the lawyer was building. His rapid-fire questioning was clearly designed to knock her off balance.

“Is it safe to call you a runaway, in that case? Because you had gone hiding somewhere without your parent's knowledge?” he continued.

“I suppose so,” Helga shrugged.

“That's a risky thing for a little girl to do.”

“No riskier than staying at home, I thought.”

“Were you aware that there were other people in the woods at that time of day?”

“No. I'd been staying up there a long time, I hardly ever saw anyone else. It was rough terrain.”

“But the area was open to the public, so indeed anyone could have stumbled across you.”

“I suppose, but they would have had to try very hard. They would have had to been watching me for a while.”

The jury murmured, and the lawyer just about suppressed a frown.

“Let's go back; you were staying overnight in a public area without your parent's knowledge. That's a fact you have in common with a lot of these missing women.”

“I suppose so.”

“Would you have said you were a difficult child, Ms Pataki?”

“Depends on what you mean by difficult.”

“Well, I have some reports here....they use words like hostile, uncommunicative, defiant, rude....I could go on. Would you agree with those statements?”

“To that person, then yes. Maybe.”

“You had a habit of hanging around older boys, am I right?”

Arnold heard Patrick, just behind him, suck in a breath.

“What do you mean by 'hanging around?'” Helga asked.

“You were often seen in the company of older boys.”

“I was on the baseball team with a lot of older boys, so yes, I guess.”

“But outside of baseball, you saw some of these boys socially.”

“Mostly just one, the others I saw in passing if we were all doing the same thing. I was the only girl on the team so they looked out for me.”

“Forgive me, but it's a rare kind of boy that wants to be in the company of a younger girl without getting something in return, would you agree?”

“Then I was lucky, because the ones I knew treated me like a younger sister. Maybe the boys you knew were different.”

A wave of soft laughter echoed in the courtroom. Red spots of annoyance popped up on the lawyer's cheeks.

“Still, running away and hanging out with older boys, that's not a usual thing for an eleven year old girl, is it Ms Pataki?” he prodded. “That combined with these reports suggests you were pretty troublesome back then. Is that fair to say?”

“I didn't realize having crappy parents was such a crime,” Helga quipped.

Now, the courtroom didn't attempt to suppress their amusement; they laughed openly. But when the laughter died down, one person was still loudly chuckling. All eyes in the room turned to him.

Curtis Waring.

He had been blank-faced throughout most of the proceedings, but now tears of laughter ran down his face. When the judge banged the gavel and commanded him to be quiet, he calmed down, wiped his eyes. And then he looked directly at Helga and mouthed three words to her.

That's my girl.

[mariaclaragomez276]

An off-grid adventure in the Arizona desert

In search of some pre-winter warmth before the snow starts to fall in Chicago, SLH’s Barter Room Co-ordinator, Katrin Holtkott, ventures into the sun-soaked Arizona desert to experience the natural beauty of Castle Hot Springs, an off-grid oasis set within the Bradshaw Mountains.

Driving the last 7.5 miles on a ‘primitive’ road it became apparent why a high clearance vehicle had been suggested at Phoenix airport, only one hour south of Castle Hot Springs. We took it slow in our four wheel drive truck and marvelled at the stunning, film set-like vista of cacti, distant mountain ranges and the occasional donkeys. Nestled in this wild and utterly beautiful landscape is Castle Hot Springs – an oasis of green lawns, thermal springs and kitchen gardens.

Ad Astra – Reaching for the Stars

Our Sky View Cabin, opposite Salvation Peak, epitomises understated elegance with no creature comfort neglected. The private outdoor bath and shower (and there is an indoor shower too if the great outdoors do not call your name), the telescope on the balcony for star gazing at night (no light pollution makes for an unbelievable firmament of twinkling brilliance), the Nespresso machine with great sized mugs for morning coffee while watching the sun rise in a delicate shade of pink on the mountain peaks opposite, makes you want to spend as much time as humanly possible in the cabin – but there is just so much else to experience.

The Main Attractions

The farm tour, the history tour, the Petroglyph tour, morning yoga and meditation, massage treatments, Via Ferrata, paddle board yoga, guided hikes, wine tasting, mountain e-bikes, pickleball, Bocce ball, the film documentary on Castle Hot Springs – all vie for your immediate participation – and we tried so, so hard to sample everything on offer in four days, while at the same time taking time to float in the mineral rich waters of the natural hot spring pools, soaking up sunshine and expertly prepared cocktails by bartenders Russell and Marcin.

Yoga and meditation in the Stonehouse – led by Mike and Colleen was the perfect start to my day. My husband Paul elected to remain wrapped in the softest terry robe on the planet, on our private balcony, enjoying the silence and scenic desert mountains, before meeting for breakfast overlooking the pool. No downward facing dog for him – but relaxation never the less, before immersing ourselves in the Castle Hot Springs daily activities.

One of the highlights was Via Ferrata – a climbing experience employing rungs and ladders fixed to the rock face traversed by steel cables to which the climbers are secured with a harness. Ryan, our wonderful lead guide, took us from valley level to about 350 feet with breath taking views and confidence building encouragement. Paul’s Bradshaw Hot Stone Massage left him equally elated without the need of changing altitude.

The history tour made us realise that we were following in the footsteps of some of America’s most prominent families, who all flocked to Castle Hot Springs in their heyday – The Rockefellers, the Wrigleys and future President J.F. Kennedy all stayed at the resort. Do ask about the link between J.F.K. and the flag on Salvation Peak – it is a great story and made us hike to the peak one morning, just because we could – and we were rewarded with sweeping 360-degree views of the Hieroglyphic Mountains.

From Farm to Table

Josh, one of the enthusiastic gardeners, hosted the farm tour, pointing out where the ingredients for our amazing meals came from, how they experiment with new varieties and how the bar and kitchen vie for special and new ingredients to create their magic – who knew that there were so many different varieties of pepper, cucumber and tomatoes! And this brings me neatly to the outstanding meal experiences.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner are all included in your stay – and if none of the activities entice you to venture into the Arizona desert – the food prepared by Executive Chef Christopher Brugman and his Equipes is reason alone to make the trip. We have never, ever enjoyed food like it – to say we ate dinner is a disservice, we savoured each and every fork and spoon full, the fresh and delicate flavours explode and combine to create unrivalled culinary memories. I was prepared to offer my first born in exchange for the mint chimichurri recipe – I still am!

Local Landmarks

We did manage to tear ourselves away from this historic resort to explore the surrounding area – Montezuma Castle National Monument is a leisurely 90 minute drive away, and well worth a visit. The changes in the landscape and vegetation are amazing and the actual monument is awe-inspiring. Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin West is only an hour away (pre-booking the house tour is essential), as is the Hole in the Rock. These two landmarks can easily be visited on the way to or from the airport.

Keep Coming Back For More…

Frankly there is more than enough to keep you at Castle Hot Springs – with horses arriving in November for trekking, more Via Ferratas possible in the future, and the new Agave farm five miles away with a bike path planned to link the farm and the resort, why would you venture further afield? In five years, the Agave will be ready for distilling – and I feel it is my personal responsibility to check on its progress annually between now and then. Castle Hot Springs is not only on the National Register of Historic Places, it is now also on my personal register of places to return to again and again. But in the meantime, bring on the Chicago winter. Our stay at Castle Hot Springs has ensured we are ready!

SLH Insider Tips

Plan your activities in advance – some have to be pre-booked and with so much on offer you really don’t want to miss out.

Keep hydrated – the complimentary, refillable water bottles are yours to take with you as a souvenir of your stay.

Try not to ask for the Wi-Fi code – immerse yourself in this off-grid world of adventures. It’s no wonder that Castle Hot Springs won the title of Most Mindful Wellness Retreat in the SLH Awards 2020.

The post An off-grid adventure in the Arizona desert appeared first on Small Luxury Hotels.

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The Weird History of Nightmare on Elm Street Comics

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Watch Freddy Krueger kill his way through several different companies in our weird history of Nightmare on Elm Street comics.

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As a concept, the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise is something I both love and hate at the same time. On one hand, it’s a killer idea with a charismatic villain, awesome set pieces, dark humor, and over-the-top violence. On the other hand, it’s a completely broken idea. The fact that it’s a franchise makes it completely hollow. As great a villain as Freddy can be – and it says a lot that a child murderer was somehow celebrated as an '80s icon – he inherently breaks the story.

Freddy Krueger has what I’d call, for the lack of a better term, “bullshit invulnerability.” See, every Nightmare on Elm Street movie is based on the idea of him being this unstoppable boogeyman that our cast has to survive. The heroes of each story have to struggle to stop him in some way and destroy him. But you can’t destroy him because then how can you do a sequel? So it’s pointless. They’ll come up with some crazy way to stop him, do it, then the final scene will say, “Whoops, that didn’t work, I guess! See you next year!”

Freddy is so ill-defined and relentless that even the first movie is kind of ruined by the final minutes. When I decided to read through every Elm Street comic book, I knew it had that nagging, jagged puzzle piece in the way of giving us actual decent storytelling. But there are still a lot of interesting ideas thrown around in all the various publishers where Freddy had called home.

Much like his rival Jason Voorhees (who has his own weird history on the printed page, which we explored here), Freddy was sort of late to the party when it came to comics. By the time Marvel got the chance to make Nightmare on Elm Street comics in 1989, they were in the middle of releasing A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child. So Freddymania was in full swing.

Freddy Krueger’s A Nightmare on Elm Street lasted only two issues, released as black and white, magazine-sized comics. The great Steve Gerber (co-creator of Howard the Duck, among others) wrote it while Rich Buckler and Tony DeZuniga took care of the art. It’s a good-looking book and darker than you’d usually find in late-80s Marvel. Too dark, actually. The book was selling really well, but there were enough complaints from angry parents to shut it down, robbing us of a Peter David-penned Freddy story.

Rather than focus on a group of teenagers, it focuses mainly on two people. Allison is a girl who, like many children, is being haunted by Freddy every time she sleeps. The story begins with her body being found in critical condition with her parents being blamed for the crime. She’s still able to put up enough of a fight against Freddy to not die and it becomes apparent that Freddy’s interest in her is more than just another piece of meat to torture. There’s something special about her.

read more: Marvel's 31 Best Monsters

Enter Dr. Juliann Quinn, a woman who has been studying Freddy as well as how to control your dreams so you can better evade him. She comes to help Allison and discovers that years ago, Allison stumbled onto the same ability to enter the dreams of others like Freddy did. That’s why Freddy is after her: he sees Allison as a threat.

The thing that sticks out to me is how much fun it has with the lore when the movies themselves haven’t fleshed them out all that much by this point outside of the stuff about his mother. Remember, this came out before Freddy’s Dead, which spelled out Freddy’s backstory and how he came into power. Freddy Krueger’s A Nightmare on Elm Street is Steve Gerber’s vision on how Freddy came to be and while it isn’t too different, it’s certainly better written.

There are two things that really make it great. First is the fact that the magic of his abilities isn’t quite explained, but there’s just enough for us to understand without ruining the mystique. Second, for a comic that came out only a short while after Watchmen, it’s easy to see similarity between Freddy’s upbringing and Rorschach’s. It almost spells it out that Freddy is what would’ve happened if Rorschach’s experiences led to him becoming the dog-owning child-killer that drove him off the deep end instead of a crazed vigilante.

There’s also a bit that suggests that Freddy isn’t alone. There’s a whole community of freakish dream demons, only Freddy appears to be the most evil and proactive among them.

read more: 13 Essential Horror Comics

The Marvel Elm Street run is enough of a story to stand on its own, but it does leave you wanting more based on how abrupt the ending is.

In 1991, the publisher Innovation took on the franchise and released a short-lived ongoing and two miniseries, all written by Andy Mangels. Nightmares on Elm Street (now that I think of it, they should’ve gone to plural with the title years ago) lasted for six issues with two story arcs. The first of which has art by Tony Harris, which is at times stunning.

It has to do with Cybil, a woman who studies Jack the Ripper and has been having nightmares about a guy who’s similar to Jack but with a burned face. One of the dreams also leads to her stumbling across the house of her old college roommates Nancy Thompson. She investigates and discovers that Nancy’s died years ago. She gets in touch with her other roommate Priscilla (whose entire panel-time in the comic is about reminding us how gay she is) and A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: The Dream Warriors survivor Neil Gordon. Soon it’s discovered that although Nancy died, she was reborn as kind of the Anti-Freddy. If Freddy is a dream demon, then she’s a dream angel, only she’s too young and inexperienced to stand up to him.

read more: The Best Modern Horror Movies

The highlight is Freddy killing Cybil’s husband with a printing press. As the guy gets chopped up from falling into the machinery, it spits out bloody newspapers with his death as the headline.

But like I said, some stuff doesn’t work. Being an Elm Street story, we need people to fall asleep for the sake of moving the plot along. That leads to a moment where Cybil’s on the phone, sitting on the couch, and she ends up standing up so fast that she passes out and enters the Dream World by accident. Um...sure, I guess.

Then there’s the twist ending, which is complete nonsense. More than your usual Elm Street ending. It’s this scene that’s supposed to be shocking and clever, but all I can do is scratch my head and wonder, “Wait, what?”

read more: The 13 Scariest Moments in Afterlife With Archie

The remainder of the series is penciled by Patrick Rolo and decides to play with the cast of the old movies some more. It’s five years after the events of A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child and survivor Alice and her son Jacob revisit Springwood to meet up with fellow survivor Yvonne because of the recent death of Alice’s father. With Jacob – who can read minds – being around, Freddy tries to butter him up and convince him to help him out. Also involved is Neil Gordon, reduced to a coma due to the previous story arc.

There’s a wild card introduced who brings some life into an otherwise lifeless cast named Devonne. She is basically Freddy’s agent in the waking world, helping him out of desperation. When she was a child, she burned down her home to kill her abusive father, but her mother died as well and Devonne’s been broken since. Not only is the incident the only thing she dreams of, but when she talks to people in real life, all she sees is them as skinless, much like how she last saw her mother. She figures that if she kills people for Freddy, Freddy will grant her at least one night of peaceful dreaming.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on Netflix

But we know better.

Freddy ultimately wants to take over Jacob’s body so he can exist in the real world and while the plot is kind of weak at points, Mangels does scratch the surface of what’s a really intriguing idea that finally gives Freddy some much-needed stakes.

While the comic barely goes into it, Mangels suggests Freddy’s logical conclusion as a monster and how his reign of terror is his own undoing. Mangels establishes that Freddy’s nightmare rampages are localized to Springwood and only Springwood. He has no other jurisdiction. If he kills enough people and enough people move away, what does that mean for him? Granted, Freddy’s Dead kind of sidesteps this whole idea, but it has enough pepper to it that it’ll get used down the line in future incarnations of Freddy comics.

In an exercise in doing as many callbacks to the previous movies as possible, it’s also established that all of Freddy’s victims are stuck in his world as tortured souls unable to escape into the true afterlife. This allows appearances from the likes of the Dream Warriors, Nancy’s cop father, and Jacob’s father Dan, but even if they’re all good people, they’re still desperate to escape Freddy’s eternal torment and will do just about anything to help him.

read more: 31 Best Streaming Horror Movies

The whole thing just barely holds together and the ending is also really weird. It’s an actual happy ending, but even for an Elm Street plot device, it’s really odd.

Mangels would then do the adaptation for Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare with art by Mike Witherby and Robb Phipps. Shockingly, it’s the only Elm Street movie to get its own comic. I’ll admit, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the movie, but I don’t remember there being any big differences. Well, except one thing.

The movies around this time got hit hard by the MPAA and had to cut out a lot of gore to pass muster. This is a comic from a company that gives no damns about the Comics Code Authority. So you don’t have to worry about censorship here. When Freddy makes the deaf kid’s head explode, it isn’t just a balloon popping. It’s a goddamn exploding head!

read more: Why Sandman is the Essential Horror Comic of the '90s

Cool thing about the three-issue mini is that there are two versions of the final issue. To go with the movie’s gratuitous use of 3D, you could buy an issue that’s mostly in 3D...albeit without color. Still, that’s a cool gimmick.

Mangels would close out the Innovation run with A Nightmare on Elm Street: The Beginning with Dan and David Day on art. Considering they just made a big stink about Freddy being gone for reals this time (yeah, right), Mangels had to rein in the Freddy aspect. The miniseries focuses on Maggie, daughter of Freddy and hero of Freddy’s Dead. She keeps having nightmares about becoming like her father and feels the need to visit Springwood to get answers. Fellow survivor Tracy goes with her.

Storywise, not much seems to happen. It’s mostly Maggie having visions of Freddy’s origin. Seeing him kill people, watching his ill-fated trial unfold, standing helplessly as he’s lynched, etc. The only interesting part is how it goes back to young Freddy killing his foster father (Alice Cooper, you may recall) and that was some kind of sacrifice to the dream demon sperm creatures from Freddy’s Dead. Maggie and Tracy unearth the corpse and it releases some kind of magical energy that causes the house to collapse.

The second issue ends with Maggie visiting the boiler room where Freddy originally died and then vanishing. All that’s left for Tracy to find is Freddy’s hat and echoing laughter. A neat cliffhanger that simply wouldn’t be resolved.

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Innovation went out of business. Shucks. Mangels did have the script for the final issue online for a bit, but it’s long since fallen into the pits of the cyberspace abyss.

A year later, Freddy would make a minor comic appearance as Topps Comics did a three-issue take on Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday. Said movie is mainly remembered for the final scene that hints on the big money throwdown between horror icons.

Freddy remained quiet for over a decade. It’s not like he had much going on. New Nightmare didn’t really seem comic-friendly in its meta movie design and Freddy vs. Jason was stuck in developmental Hell. Shockingly, even when they DID get around to making the movie in 2003, there were still no comics to capitalize.

read more: The Essential Episodes of Tales From the Cryptkeeper

It took Avatar Press to finally break the silence in 2005. They started with a one-shot simply called A Nightmare on Elm Street, put together by Brian Pulido and Juan Jose Ryp. Being an Avatar Press book, that means you have a lot of unsavory gore and unattractive drawings that are supposed to be attractive to look forward to. Seriously, it’s like nearly every female in an Avatar Press book has to wear high thong straps and a halter top.

Though it is neat that we have confirmation that Freddy and Leatherface apparently coexist in the same continuity. This continuity, at least.

The Avatar run goes with the status quo introduced in Freddy vs. Jason. Sort of. The local government wants to keep him under wraps so that teens won’t be terrorized by him. I thought the concept was done really well in the movie. On one hand, it worked. It actually cut Freddy off at the knees and made him too weak to do any damage whatsoever, hence the need for Jason. At the same time, there were still the moral implications of what Springwood was doing and the question of the ends justifying the means. You feel for the teens involved, but you also know that they’re doing horrific damage by unraveling the conspiracy.

It makes no sense here because Freddy is still able to do his thing. He’s just as capable of committing dream murder as ever, so there’s no point to the conspiracy. He isn’t underpowered or anything like that. He’s still offing kids, only they now have Men in Black guys on their backs to silence them. For what reason?! Their big plan isn’t doing a damn thing! There is no house of cards to knock over!

read more: Who Lives and Who Dies on The Walking Dead?

Anyway, this one-shot is just about teens being killed while the government conspiracy is happening around them. Just nihilistic, violent, and pointless, like much of Avatar’s licensed comics.

The same creative team then did a three-issue miniseries called A Nightmare on Elm Street: Paranoid. Due to delays, it took about seven months for the whole thing to finish. The plot is a follow-up to the previous story where we get a lot of, “You can’t talk about Freddy or people will die!” while people are fucking dying regardless.

There are two parts here that are really good, though. First is how Freddy wants to spread the message that he’s out there and decides to use a kid named Mike as his megaphone to the world. Mike’s dozing off at a football game and Freddy casually meets up with him, asking for confirmation that Mike’s a hemophiliac. A confused Mike says he is, so Freddy pokes him with his finger and Mike explodes in a fountain of gore in the stands, leaving a message.

But it’s the ending that’s so close to being brilliant. The main character Claire reads up on Freddy’s so-called defeats from over the years and while nothing’s really worked in the long run, she’s inspired by the attempts to drag him into reality. Sure, making him physical and killing him hasn’t put him at a permanent end, but she knows how to use it.

read more: 13 Essential Mummy Movies

She draws him into the real world, but makes sure it’s in front of a pep rally. The entire high school is there and she and her boyfriend are armed and ready. Claire unloads on Freddy while telling everyone what a joke he ultimately is, successfully dressing him down with insults. He’s a gigantic, pathetic loser. Seeing him so vulnerable works its magic and everyone in the building is bonded in their belief that Freddy is nothing to be afraid of.

Freddy loses control of the souls he’s collected and his victims start to tear him apart. This could have been the best ending. Let me explain why with a little tangent.

Back in the early 90s, Peter Jackson had a movie screenplay for an intended sixth installment called A Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Lover. It was about Freddy being deemed such a worthless joke that teenagers would go to sleep for the sake of finding him in the Dream World and kicking the shit out of him for laughs. Without anyone fearing him, Freddy is in a Clockwork Orange situation where he’s at the mercy of anyone and everyone. Then he eventually regains his mojo and builds a body count to get some revenge.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on Amazon Prime

It sounds completely awesome and of course they went with Freddy’s Dead instead. Though to be fair, Freddy’s Dead was about offing him "forever" while Dream Lover was about revitalizing the franchise.

So anyway, in a better world, they would have made a comic adaptation of Dream Lover as a follow-up. This whole climax with Claire exposing Freddy in front of all the other teens would’ve been the prime setup for how he becomes a dumpy punching bag.

And instead we get the, “LOL Freddy wins!” ending. Fantastic.

On another note, Juan Jose Ryp has some issues with his art. More than the usual Avatar issues. It’s like he glossed over the script at times. During the pep rally scene, it’s mentioned multiple times that Claire and her boyfriend are armed with shotguns when they most definitely carry handguns in every panel. Or there’s this bit.

Now, I don’t want to be THAT GUY, but...does she really got back? She’s got the ass of someone who sells propane and propane accessories.

A Nightmare on Elm Street: Fearbook finishes off the Avatar Press run, brought to us by Brian Pulido and Dheeraj Verma. This one is actually a lot of fun and plays with the Freddy concept to bring us something unique and original. It even begins with a rather funny fake-out where a student falls asleep during class and the infamous Freddy song is overheard as if she's about to meet her doom.

As it turns out, things are going pretty well in Springwood. Hypnocil, the drug that prevents you from dreaming, is given out all over. Everyone is now immune to Freddy’s wrath and it’s driving him mad.

Enter a gang of thugs driving through the area, completely ignorant to Freddy's existence. They rob a drug store and things get violent fast. When it becomes a hostage situation and one of the hostages starts drugging the killers with sleeping pills, it translates into a pretty neat revenge story.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on HBO

We’re so used to the constant compassion and helpless panic in these stories that it’s outright jarring to see someone vindictively watch over a sleeping person, knowing that Freddy’s about to have his way with them.

Just as Avatar Press said goodbye to Elm Street, Wildstorm went to work with eight issues of A Nightmare on Elm Street. Chuck Dixon and Kevin West are the creative team for the series, though Joel Gomez fills in on the art in the fourth issue.

The first three issues is a story called “Freddy’s War,” about a girl named Jade. She and her family just moved in to Springwood after years of constantly moving due to her father’s military status. We quickly jump in to action as her brother is killed and Jade knows she’s next. In a breath of fresh air, her open-minded father is totally willing to hear her out on this whole dream demon situation. It’s honestly refreshing to see a parent in a horror story seeing his daughter suddenly waking up with bloody claw marks on her back and going, “I am totally willing to believe whatever you’re about to tell me.”

read more: The Best Horror Movies on Hulu

There’s also a subplot about one of those creepy little girls who always shows up in the protagonists’ dreams. For once, we get an actual explanation instead of her just being a random construct created by Freddy for the sake of being spooky. Being that this is Chuck Dixon, we get a climax based on Jade’s dad using his military weapons and training in the Dream World to fight Freddy, but come on. We know how much good that’ll do in the long run.

At least the follow-up issue tortures Freddy a bit. That little girl is able to do as she pleases in the Dream World and Freddy appears to be powerless to cut her up. Finding out that she’s going to be moving away soon, he gets increasingly desperate to end her before it’s too late.

read more: 25 Movies That Will Haunt You After Only One Viewing

Then there’s a three-issue story called “The Demon of Sleep.” This one’s pretty cool. A group of geeks are being targeted by Freddy and one does some research and discovers an Aztec deity known for protecting people from bad dreams. He gets a talisman and comes up with a plot to summon the god to take care of Freddy.

Much like Freddy vs. Jason, the only thing stopping Freddy from being taken out for good is morality. To put the god at its full strength, they need to do a sacrifice. The ringleader opts to sacrifice the local jock bully, but the others aren’t really sure if they can go through with it. It all ultimately leads to a dark and tragic ending where hopes are dashed.

The final issue is a tale of a guy working at a local fast food place who stumbles upon the dreams of others being killed by Freddy. His dreams are so traumatizing that he’s in a constant, dazed state of work and fantasy, unable to tell the difference.

read more: The Weird History of Monsters vs. The Marvel Universe

A couple months later, Wildstorm released a one-shot called New Line Cinema’s Tales of Horror. It featured a short Texas Chainsaw Massacre story followed by an Elm Street story. The short story “Copycat” is by Christos Gage and Stefano Raffaele and it’s great.

Freddy is annoyed when one of his victims awakens only to have some fat dork dressed in a striped sweater kill her instead. Freddy discovers it’s this guy named Otis, a sociopath that Freddy passed over during Otis’ teenage years because Freddy thought him too pathetic and that death would be doing him a favor. Years later, he’s a total Freddy fanboy and wants in on the action as Freddy’s sidekick.

Freddy’s not interested, but his hands are tied. Remember during the Innovation run where I talked about how Freddy’s only vulnerability is an empty plate? Gage embraces the idea. Freddy needs to be discrete to do his twisted work. If his existence is public knowledge, then Springwood will simply empty out and he’ll be out of a hobby. Otis knows that and blackmails him so that if Otis is killed or Freddy refuses his help, tons of evidence will be emailed to the media.

To deal with this problem, Freddy stumbles upon another fanboy. It’s simply wonderful because the very idea of people idolizing him takes Freddy out of his comfort zone and even he finds this completely absurd.

The ending ties things up nicely and there’s a funny aside about a teenager on meth that Freddy considers a threat. Track this one down. It’s easily the best Freddy comic.

read more: The Weird History of Ghost Rider

Then in 2008, Wildstorm and Dynamite teamed up to give us Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash, a six-issue miniseries based on the unused screenplay for a suggested sequel to Freddy vs. Jason. Coincidentally, Bruce Campbell always thought such a movie was ridiculous because he believed nobody in their right mind had any interest in seeing his aging ass reprise the role of Ash Williams.

And now, of course, Mr. Campbell knows better.

Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash was written by Jeff Katz and James Anthony while drawn by Jason Craig and...*sigh*

Okay, listen, folks. I’ve been writing for Den of Geek for years now. I’ve talked about Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash when I did my list of ridiculous appearances by horror icons in non-movie media. I talked about it again when I did a list of comic book sequels to movies. Then yet again when I went over the history of Friday the 13th comics. I’m probably going to do an Evil Dead comics retrospective down the line and talk about it a fifth time!

Guys. I’m so tired of writing about Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash.

Anyway, the series picks up after Freddy vs. Jason and throws Ash into the mix, out to keep the Necronomicon out of the hands of both Freddy and Jason. It’s great because for once we have a genuinely charismatic hero to cheer for. I mean, the best hero character we’ve had up to this point is, who, Nancy? Yeah, Ash is a huge step up and it helps knowing that he has plot armor, so we’re assured that at the end of the day, he’s not going to be easily snuffed out to make way for the next hapless protagonist.

The final battle between the three is kind of rad, even if the artist decided not to draw any backgrounds for most of it.

A year or so later, the creative team would follow-up with Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash: Nightmare Warriors. While it’s a definite love letter to the three franchises and has a killer hook, it also needed a handful of rewrites and art that wasn’t rushed out the gate. The hook is that a support group is put together of people who have survived Freddy and/or Jason. It’s headed by Elm Street survivors Neil Gordon and Maggie Burroughs and includes other heroes from the various movies. Ash is invited since he’s had success against both Freddy and Jason at the same time.

read more: The Evolution of Marvel's Blade, Vampire Hunter

As this is going on, Freddy becomes empowered by the Necronomicon and attempts to take over the world with Jason and the Deadites on his side.

Things get completely ridiculous and not in a good way. It’s total nonsense with Maggie going evil just because, dressing slutty, and making out with her dad to drive home how suddenly evil she is. A lot of stuff just happens without explanation. But hey, we do get some random bits of nutty fanservice, like when Nancy’s ghost appears to help Neil out.

But the one cool thing about the mini is Freddy’s fate. This is the last Freddy Krueger comic and the last use of the Robert Englund incarnation of the character in any media, so this is the last word. In the end, he’s completely stripped of his powers by the ghouls living inside the Necronomicon. Reduced to a human and begging for his life, Freddy is then shot in the chest by Ash and his boomstick. Freddy’s corpse is blasted into a vortex. Then a random government agent character is also knocked into the vortex and we discover that he was the very cop back in the 60s who didn’t sign Freddy’s arrest warrant. He magically winds up back in the '60s and signs the warrant, thereby preventing Freddy’s lynching and origin.

read more: 14 Times Dracula Fought Marvel Superheroes

So in review, Freddy is completely depowered, as killed as killed can be, and then has his history as a demon murderer erased via time travel. You have to give this book credit for being thorough.

Overall, the Freddy comics aren’t going to blow you away, but there’s smatterings of brilliance and flashes of interesting ideas to be found buried in there. With the reboot movie falling flat, there’s no reason to expect another Elm Street comic for a long, long time. Maybe if the next attempt reboot works out or if another publisher wants to gamble on some more nostalgia.

But hey, at least we have Scary Terry in the Rick and Morty comic! Close enough, bitch!

Gavin Jasper thinks people should use Dokken as a weapon against Freddy Krueger more often. It worked like gangbusters the first time! Follow Gavin on Twitter.

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature

Movies

Gavin Jasper

Oct 26, 2019

A Nightmare On Elm Street

Freddy Krueger

steve gerber

31 Days of Horror

from Books https://ift.tt/346Szwt

[fableweaver]

Arc of the Painted Lord

Arc of the Painted Lord

Walking the aether brought Kaden a certain sense of awe he could never shake when he entered the firmament. It was hard to reach Tir Aesclinn if one wasn’t guided properly; Kaden rarely visited the gardens of the Phay. Now however he was guided by Arke’s thread, the link leading him through the aether and past the Burning Stone. Once into the shadows of the trees however the tug of the thread stopped and he was left to roam.

Kaden wondered what Arke wanted him to see, or who she wanted him to meet. He walked the paths over bridges and across clearings, knowing little about the places he passed through. Absalom had said the places in Tir Aesclinn had names, but had yet to teach them all to Kaden and the twins let alone how to identify them.

Kaden heard laughter and followed it to a bright glen in the trees. He hid since he knew he was technically an intruder here since he was still alive. The glen was dominated by a pool of water that shown with a bright golden light. Naked nymphs played in the water, the source of the laughter. Nixies and Kelpies joined them in the water, playing to their hearts content.

In the middle of the pool the spring gurgled forth in a fountain, sitting under the fall of water was a Phay woman of extraordinary beauty. Her features were delicate and serine, her eyes bright blue like the daytime sky. Her golden hair was so long it flowed around her to her feet, flowers and leaves woven into it. She wore a flower crown as well, but other than that she was naked, her skin milky white with pink accents.

Kaden realized he looked upon Thallo, She with a Giving Heart, Queen of the Flowers, and mother of the race of nymphs. She was smiling at her children as she tossed water into the air and the droplets turned to flower petals to shower her children. Nymphs, known as Green Children, were the only ones of the Phay able to transform into plants and trees. They had large eyes and petite forms, their skin tone varying from fair to swarthy. Their powers though were not limited to plant life; some took after their father, like Arke.

Just as he thought of him, Enfys appeared. The King of the Rainbow walked into the clearing smiling to his kin. He was lithe like his kin and pale of skin and hair, bright blue eyes shining as he looked around. He shone with an inner light that cast rainbow shadows over the surroundings. Kaden saw the resemblance between him and Arke; they had the same nose and jaw line.

“Enfys,” Thallo said smiling. “Come and join us.”

The King of the Rainbow smiled at her, but did not shed the colorful robe he wore. The two were a good match so Kaden had read. He was a being of light while she was one of flowers and plant life. He gave her light while she gave him wind and water. Thallo however tended to be a bit more capricious than Enfys. Kaden could tell she wasn’t at all worried about the coming march.

“Not now dear Thallo,” Enfys said kindly. “I came to check on you and our kin. I wanted you to keep them here in the Light Springs for now until another meeting is called.”

“Of course,” Thallo said smiling. “As long as the water still runs.”

“Good, things are becoming more complicated,” Enfys said, his eyes growing darker. “Thallo, keep our children safe.”

Thallo looked at him and the silly look went out of her eyes to be replaced with knowing sorrow.

“I will keep them safe for you Enfys, I will keep all your children safe,” Thallo said. Kaden saw how this affected the Rainbow King, his eyes dancing with tears. He nodded and turned away, his kin calling after him in farewell. Kaden wondered what the Nymph king was planning and so went to follow him.

His foot slipped on some moss and Kaden lost hold of Tir Aesclinn, waking instantly in his bed. It was early still, or at least Kaden guessed since not even Basil was up. It was still dark, the spring having taken some time to take hold yet. Kaden lay in bed thinking over his new sense. He could feel Arke’s thread on him, it had taken him some time to get used to. But after meeting Bailey and Pepper he had begun to sense the threads on them as well. He started to feel threads all over the place sometimes, feeling them brush against his skin which made him reach for them but felt nothing. The threads were threads of luck Kaden knew the threads that Arke manipulated.

He wondered at this new ability, but could make little sense of it as it was. He kept it to himself as well, as was his nature and because he didn’t feel the timing was right just yet. So he lay in bed suppressing the urge to itch at the twinges of luck he was feeling occasionally. The house was warm thanks to the stove and the now many people that lived in his little house. Kaden was surprised so many had come to join him, Bailey and her child, Pepper, Basil, and now Absalom.

Absalom slept close to Kaden since it was the only place with room, having chosen to sleep on a mat on the floor with his dog. He hadn’t seemed to mind the spot, Kaden wondering still that this was the very first High King of the Nine Kingdoms. Kaden rose and dressed and by the time he was done Basil emerged from his nook by the kitchen.

“Morning,” Basil said in his usual cheer, Kaden wondering how he managed to sound so happy in the morning. “You’re up early.”

“I dreamed,” Kaden answered as Basil began making breakfast.  

“Oh?” Basil said as he set the kettle to boil and started pulling out pots and pans. Kaden told him about his dream as Kaden prepared breakfast. “I don’t like the sound of that Kaden,” Basil said grimly as he whisked eggs and herbs to make an omelet.

“Neither do I,” Kaden said grimly. “Enfys makes it sound like he is getting ready to die.”

“Can the Elder Phay die?” Basil asked pouring the eggs into the pan and adding chopped green pepper, onion, and mushrooms.

“Yes they can,” Absalom said and both men turned to see him shuffling over to join them at the kitchen counter. He still drank occasionally, but like most Aldan Absalom didn’t have the burden of a hangover the next morning. “Except when an Elder Phay dies their death is permanent.”

“What do you mean?” Basil asked as he flipped the omelet.

“When we die our bodies die but out spirits continue,” Absalom answered. “They are guided on Fors Wheel between Tir Aesclinn and Miread. But the death of the spirit, the destruction of that energy and essence, is final. There is no gathering that power back once it is torn asunder or piecing it back together if it is broken. The Crippled One is a soul eater; he consumes these energies to fuel his twisted spirit. Consuming those spirits only warps him more.”

“So the Elder Phay are like our spirits?” Basil asked.

“They are in essence the same,” Absalom answered. “The only difference is size, if you want to call it that, and an Elder Phay’s spirit is much more powerful than our own. It would take a lot to destroy one of their spirits.”

“What could cause such a death?” Basil asked.

“Any number of things,” Absalom said. “It looks like that omelet is done.”

Basil hurried to remove the food from the stove and went about fixing plates and setting the table. Absalom helped him in a slow deliberate manor, Kaden lending a hand as well. When they turned to the table they found Bailey and Pepper already sitting there. Matt sat in Bailey’s arms watching dishes places on the table as if it were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. The child was now old enough that Bailey had begun to ween him, close to taking his first steps and saying a few garbled words.

They sat to eat their breakfast, a simple fair of omelets, sausages, porridge, and tea. Bailey fed Matt porridge seeming to enjoy the activity immensely.

“What were ye saying bout the death o a Phay?” Pepper asked as they ate. Kaden repeated his dream and Pepper frowned. “Melanthios says that baint be like Enfys at all.”

“To sacrifice himself?” Kaden asked.

“Ta be so negative,” Pepper answered. “He would never prepare fer a bad outcome.”

“Then why is he now?” Kaden asked.

“I baint ken at all,” Pepper said. “Neither does Melanthios, he says he can’t imagine what made Enfys loose hope.”

“Maybe it is not hope he has lost but faith,” Absalom said.

“Be there a difference?” Bailey asked.

“Hope is for the future, faith is for the past,” Absalom answered. “It sounds like Enfys has learned something that has changed his faith in something or someone.”

Kaden felt a chill, how could the Phay march if their kings and queens were losing faith in one another?

“Well there baint be much we can do bout it right now,” Pepper said putting the matter aside. “There be somewhat more we need ta discuss.”

Pepper turned to Bailey who sighed heavily.

“I be pregnant,” Bailey said wearily. Silence lasted a moment, everyone aware of what this meant and how it would wear on her. Kaden couldn’t say he was surprised, she had started to show despite the many layers she wore to hide her swelling belly.

“Congratulations,” Basil said with a smile. “Really Bailey, I am happy that you will bring another child into this world.”

“Aye well it be another danger,” Bailey said. “The Crippled Un went after me afore ta try n get possession o my first children.”

“He won’t this time,” Absalom said. “You’re safe in Alma, the city has many wards and protections against such things.”

“Good,” Bailey said but she hardly sounded relieved. Kaden noticed Pepper frowning at her sister, but Kaden wasn’t able to read her expression other than she was troubled by something. Maybe she wished their roles had been reversed and Bailey had been paired with Kaden instead. Had she been Bailey would have been the one spared from an unhappy marriage.

“Have you told Ashel yet?” Kaden asked.

“I be doin it taday,” Bailey said wearily. “I be sure he be happy bout it.”

“I’ll go with you to tell him,” Kaden said.

“He goin ta ask me ta move in with him I ken it,” Bailey said.

“And I won’t let him,” Kaden said. “Don’t worry Bailey, I’m here to protect you both.”

Pepper snorted with humor and Kaden looked at her.

“Sorry, I just find it funny a fish bone like ye protectin anything,” Pepper said, but she said it with a smile so Kaden wasn’t offended.

“There are more ways of protecting someone than just physically,” Kaden said. “I at least have a fair amount of political power, more than Ashel. Our grandfathers maybe the heads of two ducal houses, and the Roth-Ai family more powerful and wealthy than mine, but I have more sway with Alora. Ashel knows this, he can try to oppose me but he will lose.”

“What gives you such power over Alora?” Absalom asked with a grin.

“Nothing like that,” Kaden said. “She’s twice my age Absalom, we never had a physical relationship. But I’ve always confided my dreams to her. To her I am the link to the Phay, one of the few left in Alda. She knows that I could choose to turn my back and tell her nothing, then she will be out of the loop. Alora isn’t petty, she knows as queen she needs to know what I learn walking the lines. I have a skill she cannot go without so she has to stay on my good side.”

“Would ye do that?” Pepper asked. “Cut her off from information bout the Phay? Ye ken it’ll mean cuttin off all o Alda then too.”

“I know but I can still threaten it,” Kaden said. “Our talks have brought us closer; I know how to talk to Alora to make her listen. She knows I may love Alda and my kin, but if I see a treat to something more important I am willing to turn my back on my country.”

“That be treason,” Bailey gasped. “Kaden I baint ask ye ta do that fer me.”

“I won’t have to,” Kaden said kindly. “If Ashel goes to Alora, which I think he will, I will threaten to never tell her about the Phay again. I even have a new dream as a bargaining chip. Alora will have to take my side; she’ll pander to Ashel to get him to back off. So don’t worry Bailey, I have this covered.”

Bailey sighed heavily and bent her head towards Matt in her arms. The child looked up at his mother and smiled endearingly at her which seemed to cheer her a bit.

“I’ll go with ye as well,” Pepper said. “Might as well get this o’er with.”

“Aye,” Bailey said. “Basil, will ye n Absalom watch Matt? I baint want him ta be there if there’ll be yellin.”

“Of course,” Absalom said. Bailey handed over her child, Absalom’s descendant. Matt smiled and reached up to tug on Absalom’s beard. They stood and put on their cloaks, leaving the warm house. He Who Bites had given way to the Little Sleeper, the early spring mornings still frosty and ice laden.

Kaden knew the beat of the forest, and while the upper reaches were still barren and cold, the ground was already starting to show signs of life. Only tender green sprouts would be appearing, but it was almost Iris’ Day, the spring equinox was a favorite in Alda. There were traditions of going to the forest floor and marching through the woods, singing songs to welcome the new growth as the Little Sleeper gave way to the Child Who Shines.

Now however their breath could still be seen in the air and the Little Sleeper gave little warmth in her slumber. They walked along the pathways over the trees, passing people along their way. There were many spring chores to do and prepare for planting, so despite the cold there were many up and about in the early morning.

Kaden led the way to Ashel’s home, an easy trek since Ashel lived on the same level as Kaden so they didn’t have to descend or ascend through the trees. Ashel unlike Kaden had a pod home that was still attached to his family’s compound, the Roth-Ai family spent more time in Alma than the Odell family.  

Arriving outside the adjacent house Kaden knocked on the door and waited. It was answered by a servant which he wasn’t surprised about.

“We’re here to talk to the Lord Ashel,” Kaden said. The servant simply nodded and motioned them in. Inside was a living room, well decorated and furnished. The servant hurried off to fetch Ashel, Bailey and Pepper taking a seat on the sofa, but Kaden stood. Ashel came out of the bedroom his hair still messy from bed and straitening the collar of his tunic.

“Go and prepare tea,” Ashel ordered the servant lowly as he turned to his guests and smiled. “Bailey, it is good to see you.”

“We baint be long,” Pepper answered holding her sister’s hand. “Bailey just has somewhat to tell ye.”

“I be pregnant,” Bailey said lowly. Ashel’s face lit and he took a step closer, but stopped at Pepper’s glare.

“Bailey that is wonderful!” Ashel said happily. “Will you be coming to stay here then?”

“Nowt, I’d like ta stay with my sister,” Bailey answered.

“You both can come here, there is plenty of room more than Kaden’s hovel,” Ashel said with a cold glance at Kaden.

“I’d like ta stay with Kaden,” Pepper said. “N so does Bailey.”

“She’ll have to move here eventually,” Ashel said frowning. “She is carrying my child.”

“For now Ashel she wants to stay where she is,” Kaden said lowly and Ashel glared at him.

“This is your doing isn’t it?” Ashel said lowly. “You greedy bastard, you’re trying to steel my wife.”

“She isn’t yours to own Ashel,” Kaden answered just a lowly.

“I’m going to talk to Alora about this,” Ashel said crossly.

“Go ahead and try,” Kaden said. “We both know who she will side with.”

“Get out,” Ashel growled to Kaden.

“Very well,” Kaden said and turned to the two women. Pepper helped Bailey to her feet and Ashel tried to stop them.

“Wait, you can stay,” Ashel said worried. “Please Bailey I’d like to talk.”

“If Kaden goes so do I,” Bailey said.

“Bailey, you’re carrying my child I have the right to some of your time,” Ashel said.

“Nowt, ye have a right only after the babes be born,” Pepper said standing between them. “Now back off.”

“Very well,” Ashel said sounding disappointed. “Bailey you know I’m right.”

Pepper pulled Bailey away to the door, Kaden following them out. They walked away quickly, Pepper supporting her sister.

“Are you alright Bailey?” Kaden asked.

“Let’s just get back home,” Pepper said grimly, her sister’s head bowed. They hurried back to Kaden’s house, finding little had changed since they left. Bailey hurried in and scooped up Matt, holding the child and cuddling him for comfort.

“How did it go?” Basil asked.

“As expected,” Kaden answered feeling tired.

“Maybe I should have a word with this Alora Tira-Dora just to be sure,” Absalom said.

“I doubt Alora would keep your existence a secret as we have Absalom,” Kaden answered. “She is Queen of Alda and we have been awaiting your return since you left. She would see it as an obligation to announce your return.”

“I’d rather not deal with that then,” Absalom said and he looked out the window. “In fact I beginning to think it is time should be taking my leave.”

“Absalom ye be sure?” Bailey said worried. “Ye just got here.”

“I am sure,” Absalom said. “No one can walk the lines physically like I can. Dreams only let our spirits wander the lines for a short time; we need someone to find out more about the Crippled One.”

“What makes ye ken ye can learn anything?” Pepper asked. “Ye were walkin the lines fer centuries afor all this.”

“This time I will be looking,” Absalom answered. “I avoided those places before, this time I will go into those darker paths where the Crippled One lurks.”

“You’ll do us no good if you’re dead Absalom,” Kaden warned.

“I know, I will be careful,” Absalom said. “But I must leave now if I am to reach the Riven Gate by the equinox; it is a good time to enter the lines. The aether will be stirred then so the Crippled One may not sense my presence.”

“We will see ye off,” Pepper said.

“Just out of the city,” Absalom said. “I don’t want to show you where the Riven Gate is.”

“Ye baint trust us?” Pepper asked.

“I don’t trust you not to try and follow me because you think you can protect me,” Absalom answered. “Trust me when I say I can protect myself.”

“Very well,” Pepper said sourly. “Let’s see ye off then.”

“Wait, I’ll pack some food,” Basil said going to the kitchen.

“I don’t need much young man,” Absalom said. “I won’t need food on the lay lines.”

“No but you will to get to the Riven Gate,” Basil said. “And some wine I think.”

“You are wiser than I thought,” Absalom said with a wry grin. Basil soon finished packing a bag of food with several bottles of Aldan wine. They left, Bailey carrying Matt, Basil the supplies, and Tobi at their heels. Walking along the tree paths they made their way to the ground and towards the edge of the city.

The forest floor was budding green with a few hints of color from blooming crocus and narcissus. The spring planting had yet to really start, but preparations were underway meaning there were many people on the ground paths. Absalom led the way over the paths towards the edge of the city; soon they were on a narrow path all alone through the trees. Ferns and moss were the darker evergreens, the new spring leaves of dogwoods, hickory, and cottonwoods just starting to come in.

Absalom stopped at the crossroads where a sign hung pointing the directions of the paths. Absalom turned towards the north western path, towards the Deep Woods.

“Did you know the Phay don’t believe in farewells?” Absalom said turning back to them with a slight smile. “That is where that phrase comes from, hail and farewell. It means greetings and goodbye at the same time, we met and we part, and we will again. So my friends, my children, hail and farewell.”

“Hail n farewell Absalom,” Bailey said bowing to him, Matt waving.

“Hail n farewell,” Pepper said. “Fair winds n green earth ta ye.”

“Until we meet again in this life or the next,” Kaden said.

“Eat well,” Basil said passing the pack over to Absalom. “Be safe.”

Absalom took the pack and nodded to him, turning to the last member of their party. He knelt before Tobi and scratched his ears.

“I saved him from a pup in Lir,” Absalom said. “He had been abandoned out in the rain; he was the only survivor of a litter of six. Take care of him for me.”

Tobi whined and licked Absalom’s hand as he stood. He bowed to them once more turning to his path.

“Absalom,” Kaden said and he paused but did not turn. “Thank you, I am proud to call you my king.”

Absalom nodded and walked on, Kaden noting a tear sliding down his cheek. They stood until he was out of sight and longer, until even the sounds of his footsteps faded into the whispering trees.

“Let’s head back,” Kaden said and the twins took hands. Tobi was the last to turn away, the little dog whining once more before he followed as well. Basil reached down to scratch his ears, Kaden sensing Basil had a new friend as he slipped the little dog a treat which seemed to cheer him up.

“What will we do now?” Basil asked as they walked.

“Continue as we have been,” Kaden answered.

“We be no closer ta findin the song than afor,” Pepper said. “The library here be vast aye but unless the song made its way back ta Alda there baint be a record o it here.”

“Alda was bigger before remember?” Kaden said. “We used to hold Cair Leone and much of the land to the south and east of here. It could be the song passed through those lands and there is record of it. How far are you into the records anyways?”

“Just inta the formin o the kingdoms,” Bailey answered. “Absalom said he saw the song afor his grandma Rena sent it away, where I found record o it in Daun. Since that were still in the Cursed Age, and Absalom never saw it again we’d thought ta look after his reign.”

“We be on Seraiah Alvar, The Wise,” Pepper said. “He be takin a long time, but next be Ioram III.”

“Ioram won’t take you long,” Kaden said. “He had the shortest reign of all the High Kings. He was called the Lost King, because he was gone most of his reign. His brother Itheal had to eventually take the throne after he had been gone for over two years.”

“Where did he go?” Bailey asked. “Walkin the lines?”

“Unfortunately not,” Kaden said laughing a bit. “He was seen several places traveling. He was said to have been the only one of the Kings other than Absalom to have traveled the Nine. He returned home years later, not even caring that his brother had taken the throne from him. He just packed up and left again. He was said to have sired a few Rhodin children as well, though our races don’t mix well. He died in a Rhodin camp and his body was delivered back to Versae to be buried with the other kings.”

“Could he have found the song in his travels?” Bailey asked and Kaden shrugged.

“He could have, he had a journal of his travels,” Kaden said. “It is somewhere in the library here and I imagine it is an interesting read. His journal was never published as I heard, though I’m not sure why.”

“We’ll have ta read it then,” Pepper said interested.

They returned to the city and the twins went off towards the library, Bailey still carrying Matt. Basil headed off on his own, probably to do errands or play around. The spring air gave everyone a spark of life and the people moved with purpose after the sleepy winter. Kaden however dragged his feet heading for the palace. He knew Ashel had already gone to Alora to complain, so he decided to go and face her wrath. Letting Alora stew over it would have only made it harder to calm her down, it was better to face her before she had time to think it over.

Kaden arrived at the palace; he didn’t need a servant to tell him where to find Alora. She was of course in the garden on her knees yanking out weeds from the winter. He stood by as she worked on the bed until she at last stood to face him. Her apron and hands were covered in dirt, and she had a smear of it on her cheek from when she had reached up to her face. Kaden stepped forward and wiped the dirt from her cheek before finally meeting her smoldering eyes.

“She cannot live with that man,” Kaden said forcefully. “It will kill her you know this.”

“What are we to do then?” Alora asked blithely. “He loves her.”

“And she loves the man she lost,” Kaden said. “And I am sure one day she will be reunited with him. What then Alora?”

“How do you know they will be reunited Kaden?” Alora asked. Kaden hesitated, he knew because Arke had her chosen and both Bailey and her lost lover were one of them. She would see they were united again because he knew she had brought them together as well for the same reason: they made each other stronger. But he did not want to reveal his whole hand to Alora, and it pained him to keep things from her. He had never kept secrets from her until now.

“I know because of my powers Alora,” Kaden answered. “That is all I can say. You didn’t answer my question. Whether I am right or not, it is something you would have to consider since you are the one responsible for this mess. You started this Alora and you know it. So what will you do when your great niece is reunited with the lover that you forced her into betraying?”

Alora looked away closing her eyes. Kaden knew one thing about Alora from her youth, she had loved an Aldan lord, but that man had married another because the match had been better to bear children. Kaden also knew that man had been his grandfather.

“She will love the one she is married to,” Alora said at last looking up at him with eyes hard. “It is what we have all done for our children and our country. It is the right thing to do.”

Kaden had hoped she would have been moved to mercy, and he stepped away from her.

“Then I am sorry Alora,” Kaden said. “I cannot stand by you on this. If you do not let Bailey be free of Ashel, let her get a divorce, I will leave Alma and you without the benefit of my abilities.”

Alora stared him down, crossing her arms.

“So be it,” Alora said calling his bluff and Kaden stared at her shocked.

“Alora, you can’t be serious!” Kaden said. “The Phay are about to march you know this. I am the only one with the power to walk the lines and see what may be coming. You cannot take my knowledge away from our people.”

“I am not the one doing it Kaden you are,” Alora said glaring. “And I do not need your powers, not when I have Bailey now at my disposal.”

“She cannot walk the lines like I can,” Kaden said horrified. “She is with child Alora you cannot put her in that position.”

“You are putting her in that position Kaden,” Alora argued. “So you can leave and abandon you duties, but it will not sway me in any way from denying Ashel the family he deserves.”

Kaden stared at her shocked and realized he had miscalculated. He had been sure he could protect Bailey, but now it seemed he was wrong.

“I had another dream Alora,” Kaden said. “It involved one of the Elder Phay and the possibility of his death.”

“Baiting me now?” Alora asked crossly. “I won’t take it Kaden. You forget that I know you well, you are loyal to Alda. You would not betray your kin by keeping information that we needed from us.”

“I would to save the happiness and sanity of the two women I have chosen to protect,” Kaden answered staring her down. Alora was the first to look away with a toss of her head.

“If it were really important you would tell me,” Alora said. “The fact that you won’t means you don’t really think it was important.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Kaden asked. She did need to know this; Enfys was king of the nymphs who were close kin to the Aldan. Many nymphs had sired the Aldan. Alora just turned her back on him.

“You have two days to produce Bailey here or I will send guards to collect her,” Alora said. Kaden nodded dumbly and turned to leave. “And Kaden,” Alora said and he turned to face her glare once more. “Never threaten me again.”

“Yes your majesty,” Kaden said with a purposefully low bow. He glanced up to see her wince at the formality, and they both knew then that they were never going to be the same again.

Kaden left the gardens and the palace, his heart in his belly and feet heavy. What was he going to tell Bailey? He wasn’t sure whose reaction he was fearing more, hers or Pepper’s. When he got back Basil was laying the table for a late lunch. The smell of vegetable soup and spinach pastry were almost enough to lift Kaden’s mood.

“How was Alora?” Pepper asked putting down her spoon as Bailey turned to him. He felt his stomach turn as he sat at the table and put his head in his hands. “Kaden?”

He sighed heavily and as hard as it was he looked up at Bailey.

“I have two days to hand you over to Ashel,” Kaden said.

“What?” Pepper exploded. “Ye said ye could handle Alora!”

“I thought I could,” Kaden said unable to meet Pepper’s glare or Bailey’s building tears.

“Well then I’ll go talk ta her n giver h a piece o my mind,” Pepper growled.

“A piece of your mind or a taste of Melanthios?” Kaden asked finally looking up at her to see Pepper balk. “Do you really think you can strong arm the Queen of Alda Pepper?”

“I can try unlike ye,” Pepper said crossly.

“Enough,” Bailey said shakily. “It be fine Pepper, I’ll go.”

“Nowt!” Pepper shouted and Kaden could see this breaking her.

“May I suggest something?” Basil said hesitantly and they all turned to him. “Why not leave?”

“Leave?” Pepper asked. “N go where?”

“Odell,” Basil answered. “He Who Bites is passed; we can travel the forest roads now.”

“But we need the library here,” Bailey argued. “Ta find the song.”

“We don’t know we will find anything,” Basil said shaking his head. “And we can always take some books with us; those that we think might lead us to what we need. Odell has its own records as well. Maybe we should even try just searching the forest for the song; it would be likely that the song found its way back here.”

“Like the song just be hidden under some bush somewhere,” Pepper said crossly.

“What do you expect?” Basil asked. “It be hidden in some grand temple?”

Pepper opened her mouth then closed it, seeming taken aback.

“But what bout Ashel?” Bailey asked. “I’d be stealin his child.”

“He can come see the child in Odell,” Kaden said. “Or we could just give him the child.”

Bailey looked down at Matt in her arms, seeming to think about the possibility of giving up her child.

“We don’t have to think about this now,” Basil said kindly. “We can cross that road when the child is born. Right now it would be best to get to a place where we have the power so you aren’t taken anywhere against your will.”

Bailey and Pepper exchanged a look, a silent communication between twins where they could read each other’s thoughts by the tiniest look. Kaden supposed they could do this because they had the same face, they could read each other because they knew the other’s face like they knew their own.

“Aye,” Bailey said at last. “We’ll go.”

“Pepper?” Kaden asked turning to her.

“I hate runnin,” Pepper muttered. “But ta protect Bailey I’ll go. But first we need ta go ta the library n gather a few o the books there.”

“Go now, me and Basil will prepare everything else,” Kaden said. “We’ll leave after nightfall.”

Pepper nodded as she and Bailey stood and left.

“I’ll start packing,” Basil said.

“Basil, I want you to stay here,” Kaden said and Basil looked at him surprised. “Just for two days, I need you here to keep Alora off the trail so we have time to get away.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I went and you stayed?” Basil asked. “I can lead them north to Odell just as easily as you can. You can keep Alora occupied better than I can.”

“I took an oath Basil,” Kaden answered. “I swore to protect those two.”

“No you swore to Pepper she could have her freedom,” Basil argued.

“I swore to myself then,” Kaden said. “Please Basil I need to go with them. You can follow in two days.”

“What if Alora stops me?” Basil said.

“Then tell her to let you come after us to convince us to come back,” Kaden said. “You are a cousin of the Odell house; she can’t harm you or detain you without our grandfather having to retaliate. And I assure you, Alora will not be able to withstand that.”

Basil nodded, he knew as well Alora’s past feelings for their grandfather.

“I’ll pack then,” Basil said.

“And I’ll see to the horses,” Kaden said as he stood.

After going down to the ground and booking a few horses he started over to the library to give Bailey and Pepper a hand. He was surprised then to find a few young people talking to Bailey and Pepper outside of the library. He recognized one as a noble, Kaelynn Myers the Countess of Ford’s Woods. The others however he did not know, though Pepper seemed familiar with them. Bailey and Pepper handed over their satchels of books to the men and then saw Kaden. She waved him over and he walked up puzzled.

“Kaden, this be Kaelynn, Dacre, Fulk, n Jude,” Pepper said. “We were just tellin em o our plans.”

“We’d like to help,” Kaelynn said. “Guards would be a good idea through the woods.”

“Thought it’s not like you’ll encounter anything,” Fulk muttered.

“If you don’t want to come then don’t,” Dacre answered and Fulk glared at him.

“Extra hands would help,” Kaden said. “I already booked three horses though.”

“Three?” Bailey asked. “What bout Basil?”

“He’ll follow after us,” Kaden answered. “I want him here keeping Alora at bay to give us some time to get away. Can you four be ready by nightfall?”

“Sure can,” Kaelynn said. “I’ve over stayed my welcome in Alda in the first place. I can see to our horses as well.”

“Good,” Kaden said and told her the location of the stable he had already visited. “Go there and get horses of your own.”

“I’ll do better than that,” Kaelynn said. “We’ll get them and meet you at the edge of the city at nightfall.”

“Thank you,” Kaden said, Kaelynn telling him where they could meet. “We’ll see you there, be careful.”

“You too,” Kaelynn said bowing to him. Kaden responded and led Bailey and Pepper back leaving the books with the others.

They returned to Kaden’s house to find not only had Basil finished packing their bags, but he had lain out their travel clothes as well. He had also prepared a meal of chicken soup and salad with some bread as well. Tobi bound around the house seeming excited by all the activity.

“Eat first so you have time to digest,” Basil said looking out the window. “You should have plenty of time before you have to go. Did you get the horses?”

“And more,” Kaden said and related their meeting with Kaelynn. Basil only nodded as they sat to eat, Bailey nursing Matt who quickly fell asleep when he finished.

“Will he be alright?” Kaden asked.

“Aye, Melanthios can keep him asleep so he’ll be quiet,” Bailey said.

“He can?” Kaden said puzzled.

“It is an old Phay trick,” Pepper said, her cadence changing telling Kaden the black dragon was speaking through her. “From times when we used to sneak around the houses of men to cause trouble. To prevent dogs from barking and children from waking we could muffle their spirits into sleep. It only seems to work on children and animals though.”

“Probably because an adult’s spirit is too strong to be held,” Kaden answered and Pepper nodded. They finished eating and went to dress. Kaden dressed in set of loose trousers, a tunic, high leather boots, and a stiff buff coat made of leather, before throwing on his traveling cloak. All were the pale greens and blues of early spring, the Aldan liked to match their colors with the season.

Kaden turned to see Pepper dressed much like him, though her coat was cut to a woman’s frame. Bailey wore a woman’s riding habit over her pants and tunic, the trailing skirt slit for riding. She had dressed Matt in a warm sweater and hoes, he was too big now to swaddle but not so big that she couldn’t wrap him in a blanket and carry him in a basket on her back.

“Maybe I should carry him,” Pepper said.

“Nowt, at least fer now I’ll carry him,” Bailey answered and Pepper nodded. Kaden turned to see Basil standing by their packs looking worried. Tobi stood with him with his fluffy tail wagging.

“We’ll meet in Odell or sooner if you manage to catch up,” Kaden said as he went to his cousin and shook his hand. “If Alora comes to visit or Ashel tell them that Bailey just needs the time to adjust. Leave before they grow suspicious.”

“Of course,” Basil said. “I’ll try to give you more time than just two days.”

“No, don’t push it Basil,” Kaden warned. “Just keep them at bay if you need to, go about your day as normal and leave the day after tomorrow, preferably at night like we are or early morning. I told the stable master to hold a horse for you.”

“Thank you,” Basil said after Kaden relayed where the stable was. “I won’t let you down.”

“You never have Basil,” Kaden said.

“Kaden what bout your paintins?” Pepper said looking to his work space.

“I packed them,” Basil said holding up a round leather case. “At least those that I could.”

“Thank you,” Kaden said grinning at him. “I have material I left at home I can use.”

“I packed a few of your sketchbooks too,” Basil said. “And some pastels and everything.”

“I sometimes think you know me better than I know myself,” Kaden said smiling to him. “Thank you Basil, I’ll see you in Odell.”

“You as well Kaden,” Basil said. They gathered their things and left the house, by that time it was twilight. The city lamps had yet to be lit, yet the sky was already a dusty rose and falling purple. It made the trees darker shadows and the forest eerily silent.

“We should step sideways,” Pepper said. “Ye ken how ta do that Kaden?”

“No but I imagine you can help me,” Kaden said. “Or Melanthios.”

“Just hold mine hand,” Pepper said holding her hand out. Kaden took it, Pepper’s hand warm and calloused. He felt her use the Elder Magic, his ears popping at the pressure of her will on the aether. She pulled him to the side, Kaden stepping to the left with her. He felt the aether on his skin like dew, but otherwise felt nothing else. He looked and could still see Pepper, but Bailey had vanished. Tobi sniffed around at them, seeming to be able to sense them and unbothered by this strangeness.

Pepper led the way still holding his hand through the city. She took several turns before Kaden had to take the lead to guide them to the meeting place. They arrived just after the last glow of He Who Burns left the sky. Kaelynn stood in a clearing by a lesser forest path, seven horses waiting with her. Fulk, Dacre, and Jude stood next to her; all were armed with either a sword, bow, or staff. Pepper pulled him out of the aether and Kaelynn gave a start at their sudden appearance.

“You’re full of tricks miss witch,” Kaelynn said with a grin. Kaden saw Bailey next to them, glad they hadn’t left her behind. Tobi was there as well, unshakable.

“We should go,” Kaden said.

“Aye,” Pepper answered letting go of his hand. She started for the horses when movement around them made her stop. Kaden turned to see twenty armed guards appear out of the bushes and ferns around them, camouflaged with the colors of the forest. They closed in, bows drawn or sword out. One man stepped forward and pulled down his cowl and hood to show Ashel.

“Ashel!” Pepper shouted angrily, her hand going to her sword, but Kaden quickly stopped her. She looked at Kaelynn, but the countess seemed just as surprised as her.

“The Countess had nothing to do with this Lady Pepper,” Kaden said mildly. “Alora already predicted that you would run so decided to head you off. She had Kaden followed and we learned of your escape.”

“You have no right to stop us from going where we please,” Kaden countered. “Lock us up if you will but my grandfather will eventually hear of this.”

“Alora has no interest in stopping you or your wife from leaving Alma Kaden,” Ashel answered. “In fact she demands it.”

He held out a scroll and Kaden snatched it away. He looked at the seal and saw it bore the seal of the royal house, a unicorn. He broke the seal and unrolled the scroll, reading quickly. He felt his heart constrict in his chest.

“What does it say?” Pepper asked worried.

“I and my wife are hereby banished from Alma for treason,” Kaden said numbly. In retrospect it was a light punishment for treason, they were banished only from the capital not from all of Alda. Yet it had the weight of Alora’s disapproval like a slap in the face.

“Not for life,” Ashel said. “Alora has decided to be merciful and stated that she will rescind the order in time, when she feels your lesson has been learned. She still expects a child from you two, you are husband and wife. Now come along Bailey, I’ve prepared a room just for you in my family’s mansion.”

“Nowt!” Pepper said angrily, Melanthios half way out of the scabbard. Bailey acted before Kaden could, grabbing Pepper’s arm.

“Stop Pepper,” Bailey said. “We lost, ye have ta let go.”

“Nowt, nowt again,” Pepper said through clenched teeth, glaring at Ashel. “I baint let this happen ta ye again.”

“I ken Pepper,” Bailey said. “But please ye ken our duty; I’ll continue the search here. Ye search in Odell with Kaden. I’ll be fine.”

“Nowt ye won’t be Bailey,” Pepper said tears running down her cheeks. “I need ye n ye need me.”

“Pepper,” Kaden said softly and she turned to him. “I will be there for you; I know you can be strong.”

“But Bailey…”

“Threads are coming together,” Kaden said and Pepper stared at him, Bailey looking as well. “We just have to be patient.”

“Ye ken this?” Bailey asked softly.

“I do, I sense the threads moving,” Kaden answered. “I know it will be hard for you Bailey, but I know you can face it. Pepper may not be at your side for it, but we are all here for you in spirit. I will be there for you to walk in your dreams.”

Kaden saw Bailey absorb his words and the alternate meanings; he meant he would watch over her from the lines. He was also trying to hint at his sense that Bailey would be reunited with her previous lover.

“Thank ye,” Bailey said softly. She reached out to him and Kaden embraced her, kissing her on the forehead. Bailey turned then to her sister, tears of her own now on her cheeks.

“Seems taday were a day for farewells,” Bailey said with a wane smile. “Until again Pepper, my sister.”

“Until again,” Pepper murmured before embracing Bailey tightly. The two stood embraced for a good few moments, no one having the heart to part them. At last with heart wrenching slowness they parted, Bailey stepping away towards Ashel. Pepper turned away and woodenly mounted her horse, Kaden mounting his own. He was relieved to see Kaelynn and the others mount as well, glad they had chosen to stay with them. Tobi however joined Bailey, looking solemn.

“Bailey,” Kaden said turning back to her. “Tell Basil I will see him later than we thought, he is now Odell’s representative here in Alma; if that is alright with Alora?”

“She already thought of that,” Ashel answered. “Inform the Duke of this change when you meet him. Safe travels Kaden.”

Kaden didn’t answer, rudely turning his back on Ashel.

“Luck carry ye!” Bailey called after them. Kaden waved back over his shoulder but did not turn; it was ill luck to turn back. Still his back burned with Bailey’s gaze even after they were out of sight of the city. Kaden rode away from Alma the City in the Pines sick at heart and spirit.