#but also we live at the bottom of a steep hill do you know how hard it is to go 10 mph downhill?

[queer-reader-07]

i don't think anything is more Old Man Yells at Cloud than my next door neighbor telling me i can't drive 20 mph in front of his house because it's private property

[metaphoricalmusings]

tmb day 1+2

a deeply wonderful experience that I have not documented but want to do so before the vividness of the memories fade!!!

day 1:

our family is hustling (not really AM people) and due to a kerfuffle at the front desk of the hotel checking our suitcase in for the week, we end up leaving late. we have to sprint towards the meeting point at the base of the lifts.

everyone else is already gathered there. they're with jean louie, a weathered looking french guy who is to be our guide. there's two sets of french couples- old and young. we will soon get to know them quite well ...

lunch is handed out to us, it's a baguette sandwich, an apple. we take the lift to the top and immediately get to it. there's like zero fanfare lol we just start hiking. it's not too steep of a climb, just a slight incline as we kind of wrap along the side of the mountain. we are really walking for a long time. after about 2 hours, we arrive at a ski lodge at the top of the mountain for a restroom break and quick snack break. the views are spectacular the whole way, just unbelievable sights of mont blanc. clear and perfect weather.

we carry on walking. maybe around 1pm (we've been walking probably 4 hours), we break for lunch. jean louie leads us down a super steep ravine totally off the path - this was high key treacherous and dad toppled down headfirst at one point. we end up at this little stream at the bottom and jean louie fills his waterbottle, everyone sits to eat.

then begins a long descent. although descending is much faster than climbing, it is far more painful. my knees were not prepared for the assault they were about to endure. it's really hard going and I find the downhill to be seriously uncomfortable. it feels like it may not end...

we take short breaks. at one point, we're hydrating by a cool stream and jean louie peeks under the bridge and finds a couple cool cans of sugary drinks. jackpot! someone has stashed them there and forgotten them perhaps. we drink- they have been chilled by the stream and it tastes oh so good.

around 3:30pm we finally finish the descent into a small town north of chamonix called argentiere. this isn't where we are staying though, we still need to hike about 30-40 min further to our refuge - le moulin. it's our first refuge night.

ju and i collapse in the living area couch. so tired. i'm writing this retrospective nearly 6 months later and the pain of that first day has totally faded from my body but my brain reminds me that I was really exhausted...

there's a girl that arrives at the hostel in really poor condition. we're not super sure but it sounds like she has heatstroke - guides are checking on her (she is an american from the sounds of it) and they end up having to call an ambulance for her to go back to chamonix. we get word later that she's doing fine.

we shower, prep our beds (a tiny dorm room for all 8 of us, bunk style). dinner is family style in the dining room on red checkered picnic tables. it's some kind pancetta pork chunks in stewed lentils. there's also a carrot salad that's pretty tasty. of course, plenty of bread and butter.

then after that, it's pretty much straight to bed. the french are playing cards, but honestly im just not feeling social.

at night, dad snores a ton lol. good thing I brought earbuds!!! it's hard to get comfortable but I sleep ok.

day 2

we wake up and have breakfast. I honestly don't remember what it is, probably eggs (how was it prepared..?), croissants, bread, butter, and jam. there's a hot tea and coffee station where you can get hot water for oatmeal too, I think. I remember the layout but not much more.

we eat, we pack, and we grab our picnic lunches to go. 7am, hiking begins immediately. we've probably walked quite a ways up the hill when I realize i've forgotten my podium bottle. it's definitely not worth it to go back but i'm still a bit bummed. means that i'll have to rely on the nalgene only for the rest of the way (and we've only just begun!)

we climb in the shadow of the mountain so it's nice and cool even though we're exerting ourselves. mostly following the fire path (for cars) up the side of the ski slopes. we can see the lift in operation, it makes us hem and haw about why we're even doing this when a lift can take us up in less than 10 min. on foot, it's 2 hours of work. we get to the top of the first lift and have a bathroom break.

then onwards. this next stretch is one of my favorites in my memory. the wildflowers were so gorgeous, it made me think of monet and van gogh and how they all were struck by the fields and fields of wildflowers in france. the weather again, sunny and divine. we are snaking our way through the hills and the incline is steady and hard. at 10:30 am we get to the highest point of our day, which is also the border between france and switzerland. we stop for a water and snack break, photos, and bathroom.

jean louie points out the town of trient nestled in the valley below- it's where we're staying tonight. this turns out to be the biggest bait and switch of our lives. from the hut looking down, trient doesn't look too far at all. little did we know that the descent to get there is going to wind around the whole side of the mountains—so far that we lose sight of trient for most of the afternoon.

descending is hard and long today. the path is really narrow and also on the side of a steep hill. so if you misstep, you might just take a rocky tumble down. at around 1pm we break for lunch at a small shack on the path. they have a "bathroom" which is more like an outhouse. it's a porty potty looking struture with a long little path to get to it a ways from the main seating area. and then when you go in, there's basically a plank of wood with a hole cut out of it that you shit into. when you open the door to the porta potty, there's a sign taped on the inside that says "leave the door open while you're using the outhouse so that you indicate it's occupied!!" - this means you get to squat and shit and stare at the incredibly beautiful glacier. definitely a nice pooping experience, except I didn't poop.

lunch was really hearty and I enjoyed it - perhaps too much - which became my downfall. I think I inhaled too much food and gave myself indigestion. plus the immediate return to hiking (bruh!), my stomach started to feel Really Bad. I am actually in pain going down lol. I do my best to keep it together and I guess at a certain point it just gets better? honestly insane.

we finally end up at the bottom of the waterfall (from the glacier) and have some time to rest. still, the town of trient is an hour a way by foot, although it's flatter. my feet are really hurting. day 2 was so much worse than day 1. we arrive in trient around 3:30pm and I could not be happier. we take hot showers and lay horizontal in our bunk beds. this place gives more of a youth hostel vibe and is generally well kept. lots of asian groups in this one.

dinner is pasta and soup, nothing fancy. we have a group meeting where we decide to have rosti at bovine (an alpine restaurant) tomorrow.

[tbc]

[tetsunormous]

Skateboards and ice cream trucks

pairing: Connie Springer x gn!reader

genre: crack? fluff? SFW

warning: mentions of edibles.

A/N: this is for @odmlevis's Summer Solstice event. Honestly, this was really fun to write cause it doesn't really make any sense but I think it's funky fresh and fun so that's what matters. Also, who wouldn't wanna do this with Connie on a hot summer day, yk?

The sun shines onto the heated driveway where you and Connie lay. Both of your legs sprawled out as you watch him roll his skateboard towards you again. The plan was to teach you some new tricks since he bought you your own board, but the heat is actively sucking the energy out of you both. It’s honestly kind of pathetic that after practicing for two weeks straight, the only trick you know is an ollie. Luckily, Connie is a very patient man when it comes to you, and each time you show him how fast you can go in a straight line, he hollers like Gwen Stefani. But now you’re both laying down, feeling how the pavement is basically cooking the back of your thighs.

Connie looks over at you and pouts a little, his eyes squinting even behind his sunglasses, “why’s it so hot?”

With a confused scowl, you reach over and kick his shin, “The earth is flat, you idiot. The sun is directly facing us.”

Replying with a “tch,” he sits up to take his muscle tank off, looping it through his belt loop before tying it securely. Turning his head towards you, he smirks and reaches over to tug at your crop top, “I think it’ll help if you take your top off too. You know, it’s less restricting.”

“Stupid,” you mumble with another kick to his leg.

Before Connie can reply, you both freeze when you hear a familiar tune. The ice cream truck in your area is slightly different from most because they don’t just sell ice cream. They also sell edibles. A weird combo that Erwin, the blond stonk that owns the truck, believes is the best way to make money when a bunch of young adults live in a neighbourhood together. One might say Erwin is really smart for this, but at the same time, Connie has been coming to the truck every week, and every week he convinces Erwin to give him his signature brownie sundae for free. He’s playing Doja Cat through the speakers, and the two of you look at each other before getting up and hopping on your boards to find him.

Connie is exponentially better than you at skating, so he yanks your arm towards him before lacing your fingers together. With a kiss on the knuckles, he speeds off down the hill with you screaming in his ear about going too fast. Frankly, he doesn’t care right now because he’s about to scam Erwin for another free sundae.

As you two zip through the residential streets, you spot the truck at the bottom of the hill, but it’s a steep hill that’s probably even too steep for Connie to skate, but of course, he doesn’t care. Right as you’re about to get dragged down this extremely dangerous hill, Erwin’s voice booms through the speaker. “You’re not getting free food today, Connie. You’ve been putting it on my tab, but I don’t wanna pay for you anymore,” he says in an apologetic tone.

Your boyfriend was not having any of this. He turns back to you and scoffs, “this guy, who does he think he is? We’re getting fucking zooted off his triple chocolate, chunky mama, rich boy, gooey, artery-blocking, brownie.”

Looking down at the truck, you see it transform into a monster truck as it speeds off, this time driving much faster than before. Was it even legal to have a transforming truck like that drive-through street with a speed limit of 40 km/hr?

It didn’t matter to Conman cause he takes his phone out and presses a few buttons before his skateboard grows two engines, and yours turns into a desk chair with a seatbelt for safety. You slowly turn to him, and he’s giving you a pointed look, “we got a truck to chase, babe, strap in.”

Wearily sitting down and buckling the seatbelt, you feel Connie grab the chair before his engines rev up. Your whole life flashes before your eyes when you two start rolling down the hill, his board now travelling double the speed limit. The wind in your face starts to make your eyes water, but your boyfriend is determined to chase after the truck cause he starts yelling.

“GET BACK HERE! HOW DO YOU KNOW I DON’T PLAN ON PAYING TODAY? I’M TRYNA GET MY BABY TO TRY YOUR SHIT, YOU STONKER!”

The truck is in sight, but it’s serving someone right now and Connie screams, watching him hand his brownie off to someone else. Feeling you two slow down, you notice his engines are gone, but you’re still in your chair. He looks down at you and whispers something before gaining more speed.

Connie yells, and as the two of you zip through the area, he pushes your chair between the truck and the person who had just bought the brownie. You and your greedy raccoon hands snatch that bitch from them and ride off. The two of you laugh and ride towards the sunset, ready to enjoy your brownie sundae that just so happened to be free of charge.

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© tetsunormous 2021

[tpwkjerii]

as you wish | 3

your one true love was lost in a pirate accident five years ago, and now you’re engaged to a cruel prince. with all your misfortune, you didn’t expect three unconventional thugs and a painfully familiar pirate to save you from a dreadful future. (inspired by The Princess Bride)

pairing: pirate!seokjin x princess!reader

warnings: fluff and angst (!!), reader is forced into engagement and becoming a princess, mentions of death, kidnapping, murder threats, mentions of monsters and fire, kissing, attempted murder, cursing

genre: fairy tale/pirate au, semi established relationship au

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: two more parts left eek (this is also kinda unedited; my apologies for any grammar mistakes :[ )

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“Looks like your darling Prince has caught up to us,” the masked man stated dryly, his arms crossed in obvious displeasure.

You furrowed your brows. “You’re not working for him?” you asked quickly.

He scoffed in response. “Why would I work for him,” he spat.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, concern growing in your mind. You still had no idea who this man was, so going with him was a 50/50 chance of life or death, and you definitely knew that Prince Donghae would not be pleased if he got to you. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of your first night at the castle — it wasn’t unlikely that he would go further either.

However, you didn’t have much time to decide on or say something as the masked man harshly grabbed your arms and pulled you away. You sputtered as he practically dragged your body down the hill.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice and body tired. “If it’s ransom, I promise that you can get it, no matter the amount.”

The man in black scoffed again. “And how much do you think you’re worth, your Highness? What are your words worth, the mere promise of a Princess?”

You sighed, your irritation growing with his stubbornness. “I was giving you a chance… It doesn’t matter where you take me, Prince Donghae is the greatest hunter in this kingdom. He will find you, and I can’t guarantee your fate for when he does.”

He laughed scornfully. “You think your dearest love, the Prince, will save you?” he questioned.

Your face screwed at his suggestion. “I never said that he was my dearest love and yes, he will save me, that I know.”

“You admit to me that you do not love your fiance?” the man asked you, shock evident in his tone.

“He knows I don’t love him,” you responded simply.

“Are not capable of love is what you mean,” he remarked snarkily.

His words stung and, outraged, you planted your feet on the ground above you and ripped yourself out of his grip. You looked at the masked man directly in the eyes, pain in your voice as you told him, “I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream.”

This man may have several physical similarities to Seokjin, but his words and attitude clearly showed otherwise. Perhaps your first impression based on his revealing attire was correct after all.

He was silent as you continued. “I know exactly who you are. Your cruelty revealed it all.” He remained silent as he simply looked at you.

“You’re the dread Pirate Joohyun; admit it!” you exclaimed, anger towards the man who killed the only man you ever truly loved overtaking you.

A mischievous smirk spread across the man’s face. “With pride,” he responded, causing you to breathe out in anger. “What can I do for you?” he asked teasingly.

“You can die slowly — burn and be fed to the sharks for all I care!” you answered, angry tears spilling down your face from his words.

He winced in faux pain. “Those words hurt, your Highness. What have I done to deserve such a cruel fate?”

You stepped closer to him, now staring him dead in the eyes. “You killed my love,” you said, your voice threateningly low.

The man faltered, and for a brief second you almost thought that he had remorse for you. “That’s possible. I’ve killed a lot of people,” he replied bluntly before immediately grabbing you again.

You scoffed, struggling against his strong arms as he dragged you further away.

“Who was this love of yours? Another prince? Was he ugly and rich like this one?” he remarked, contempt clear in his voice. You briefly wondered what exactly this man had against you and your fiance (who you don’t even like) before you responded.

“No,” you started, keeping your voice as level as possible as you reminisced about Seokjin. “A poor farm boy. Poor but perfect, with eyes like chocolate and the kindest soul I’ve ever met.” You stepped closer to the masked man, tears now slowly rolling down your face. “Your ship attacked, and we all know that you, dread Pirate Joohyun, don’t take any prisoners.”

He was slow to reply. “I can’t afford to make any exceptions. Once word goes out that a pirate’s gone soft, people start to take risks and disobey you. Then it’s nothing but work and fighting from there,” he explained like a teacher would.

You breathed out in disbelief at his outward lack of contrition. “You mock my pain,” you spat.

“Life is pain, your Highness.” His grip on your arm tightened and his pace quickened. “Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before he continued, “I think I remember your farm boy. That would have been what, two years ago?”

You remained silent, the past two days and sudden onslaught of this man’s harsh words and memories of Seokjin bringing tears to your eyes.

“Does that bother you to hear? To think about once again?” he persisted.

You ripped yourself out of his grip again and pushed his chest, sending him a few feet back. “Nothing you say now can upset me any more than you already have. My heart is used to harshness and disinterest.”

The masked man ignored your words and continued sharply, “He died well, that should please you. No bribe attempts or useless blubbering. He only said ‘Please. Please, I need to live.’ That’s what caught my memory. I asked him what was so important on this earth that he deserved to live for, and he said true love.” He paused to laugh bitterly. “Then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume he meant you. You should thank me for killing him before he found out who you truly are.”

“And who am I?” you countered, stepping closer to him in anger.

“Faithfulness, my lady. He mentioned your unwavering faithfulness,” he responded bitterly. “Now tell me, when you found out he died, did you get engaged to your prince that hour, or did you at least wait a week, out of respect for the dead?”

Your hands balled up by your sides. “Don’t mock me anymore! I died that day! You speak as if it was my choice!”

“Was it no-”

The masked man paused, and both of your heads turned towards the fields which he rushed you away from. There, Prince Donghae and his small army were making their way in your current direction.

Your eyes moved from the royal soldiers towards Seokjin towards the ravine that was lying below the hills on your right side; and with only a moment of thought, your hands moved up towards Seokjin’s chest.

“You too can die for all I care,” you said darkly before you pushed him down the hill.

You watched as he tumbled down the grassy hill, no emotions running through your tired body. It wasn’t until three words, three words which used to bring you great comfort and happiness, rang out, the voice behind them growing further and further away by the second.

“...As…you…wish…”

Your hand instantly flew to your mouth in horror. You were wrong - extremely wrong. “Oh my god, what have I done? My sweet Seokjin,” you whispered, your mind reeling at the sudden turn of events.

Without a second thought or consideration of the dangers ahead of you, you ran down the steep hill into the ravine. You barely made it a few meters before your foot got caught on a rock, sending you tumbling down the hill and into the ravine behind Seokjin.

You winced as you landed on the dirt, your body sore from the heavy impact.

“Can you move at all?” you heard Seokjin groan from a few feet away.

“Can I move?” you started, lifting your head up to look at him. His mask was off his face now, allowing you to perfectly see his beautiful face and know that it really was him.  “Seokjin, you’re alive. I could fly if you asked me too.”

“Fly then.”

“You know I meant that figuratively, Jinnie,” you said with a sigh, a wave of relief crashing through you as you realized his sense of humor never changed even after all this time. “Oh, Seokjin,” you murmured, closing your eyes and laying your head down on the ground again.

The leaves and stones crunched beneath him as he stood up and walked towards you. “I told you that I would always come back to you,” he said, leaning down to gently caress your face before lifting you to your feet. You opened your eyes and looked up to meet his eyes, your hand instinctively reaching for his. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked softly.

You felt a knot in your chest as you answered. “You were dead. And I had no choice in following Prince Donghae’s orders of becoming his Princess if I wanted to live.”

He let go of your hand, much to your initial dismay, and moved it up to gently cup your cheek. “You should have had more faith in me. Death can’t stop true love, it can delay it at most,” he spoke earnestly.

You nodded, eyes glazing over as you said, “I’ll never doubt again.”

“You will never need to doubt,” Seokjin replied before he leaned down and closed the distance between your lips. His plump lips were slightly chapped yet still maintained their soft quality. You melted in the familiarity of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip and the way he pulled away only for a few seconds just to kiss you again. His large hands rested gently on your face before moving to your lower back and the back of your head as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away. Breathless, you both took a few seconds to catch your breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the past two years,” Seokjin admitted with a laugh as he massaged your hands lovingly.

“If you’d taken that mask off earlier we could’ve done that at least 20 hours ago.” You laughed.

Seokjin opened his mouth, ready to reply before an echo of a horse’s whine rang through the gorge. You and Seokjin looked up and saw the man whose appearance you’d been dreading this past journey. Prince Donghae had dismounted from his horse and was looking down into the gorge, an unrecognizable expression on his face.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Do you think… he can see us?” you whispered to Seokjin.

He shook his head. “Unlikely. Even if he does, he’s too late. There’s no way they can get around this gorge in less than at least three days.”

Seokjin’s confidence reassured you, although a small feeling of reassurance still gnawed at your stomach. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and gave you a kind smile. “I’m positive, my love. Even if he did, I would not let him take you from me again — I would rather die than let that happen.”

You sighed and shook your head. “Still dramatic, aren’t you?” you asked with a teasing smile.

He scoffed in offense. “It’s true! I really would!”

“I’ll take your word for it, Jin,” you said lightly.

He grinned and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek. A blush spread across your face as he grabbed your hand and gently tugged you forward. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“How do you know where to go?” you asked curiously, examining the dense forest ahead of you.

“Do you think I’ve just been lazing around the past two years?” He reached his arm towards his back and unsheathed his sword, the silver barely shining in the low light that barely peeked into the gorge. “I’m not the same farm boy that I once was.”

“And what happened these past two years, Seokjin?” you asked as you followed him while he skillfully led you through the thick trees.

He sliced through a natural wall of tiny branches, a sharp slicing noise filling your ears. “Would you like the short story or the long story?”

You took his hand as you hopped over the pile of dead branches and leaves. “Well, I’m assuming that we have at least two or three to go through whatever this place is, so I suppose that you have time to tell the long story?”

“You’re absolutely correct,” he said cheekily, using his sword to cut through a wall of vines that hung from the trees. “Before I start, I would like to hear about you.”

You jumped as you heard a loud chirp from within the forest, instinctively moving closer to Seokjin, who moved his hand so he could wrap his arm securely around you. “What about me?” you asked, your voice still shaky in mild fear from the unexpected noise.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.” He took a deep breath as you sliced through another wall of built up branches. “How did you end up as Princess, engaged and to be married to Prince Donghae? What happened?”

“Not too long after you left us, father died—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you, a sorrowful look on his face.

“It’s ok, I’ve already made my peace with his death.” You smiled at him gently before you continued. “Not too long after, news spread of the King’s deteriorating health and the subsequent search for a Princess since Prince Donghae was yet to court anyone. Prince Donghae began searching throughout the Kingdom for any princess he deemed suitable, and honestly I expected the search to end in the inner Kingdom with a wealthy daughter of the court.

But I guess none of them satisfied him, and one day he was in our village. All potential ladies were gathered together in the Church - trust me I wouldn’t have been there if I wasn’t forced - and subject to his scruitany. Prince Donghae examined each lady, sparing some only a quick glance and other a brief exchange in words,” you paused to laugh bitterly, old feelings of resentment awakening. “I suppose that’s how I sealed my poor fate.”

“Something about me must have caught his attention, and he tried to start a conversation with me. Like a fool, I thought I could get away with ignoring him.” You paused to breathe in deeply, the memory of that day bringing in a familiar feeling of deep regret. “And showing him I wasn’t interested. Evidently, my silence spurned his curiosity, and as of that evening, the search for the to-be Princess ended.”

“I’m sorry for assuming you left me on your own will,” Seokjin apologized with a pitiful expression. By now your walking pace had decreased to a leisurely stroll as he guided you through the dense trees. “I hope that life as a Princess has at least treated you well.”

“Treated me well?” You laughed indignantly. “While I may have not had to worry about finances and a sudan surplus of materialistic items, life in the palace has been everything but welcoming,” you began to rant. Seokjin, while trying to contain his anger, listened thoughtfully as you continued. “I don’t belong. They never fail to remind me of that very fact every single day.”

“Who’s they?”

“The royal court, the administrators — hell even Prince Donghae sometimes! I hear the whispers whenever I enter a room: the mutters of ‘why is the poor village girl still here?’ and ‘how could such a lowly maiden be the Princess?’ and more. It takes all my willpower to not scream at them and tell them that I didn’t want to be there in the first place. Prince Donghae chose me but I never chose him or this life.

Every moment of the day I’m surrounded by people and guards who monitor my every action. They wait by my chamber rooms, by the drawing room, by the garden, and by every single room I could ever be in. Anything suspicious or out-of-line is reported to the Queen, who hates that I wasn’t born into wealth or royalty. But out of everyone, Prince Donghae is the worst,” you muttered darkly, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you averted your gaze to the dirt floor.

“Why? What has he done to you?” Seokjin rushed, red hot anger spreading across his body.

You laughed bitterly. “All the sentiments that everyone in the Palace shares about me, he hears and feels them. He knows how I’m constantly ridiculed by the court and his own mother, yet he says nothing to them or of them. He uses me like a toy; he forces jewels and fine dresses onto me as his partner at formal events but throws me to the side when I’m not needed. There is not an ounce of love or affection between us. And heaven forbid I ever talk back or defend myself, because if I do… I’ll regret it.” Your hand unconsciously reached up to your neck, fingers touching the same spots Donghae’s were.

Seokjin seemed to understand what your sudden change in hand placement meant and his grip on his sword tightened. “That bastard touched you? He hurt you?”

You nodded. “But all physical injuries pale in comparison to the emotional blows I’ve faced. Like all things, though, I’ve grown uncaring. Their words won’t stop, that much I know, and for a long time I felt hopeless and knew that there was little - or nothing at all - I could do to change my fate. For many months, I just relished in the fact that I wasn’t dead.”

“If I had known that he was hurting you, I would’ve done everything I could to come back sooner.”

You looked up at him, and Seokjin’s heart ached at the vulnerability of your body language. You kept your voice soft as you asked, “What were you doing the past two years, Seokjin? How did you survive the attack?”

He sighed and slightly increased your walking pace as you entered a clearer path. “I first ought to explain that the dread Pirate Joohyun isn’t really Joohyun,” he paused to chuckle at your bewildered expression before continuing. “The real Pirate Joohyun has been retired twenty years now after securing enough gold and jewels to last his family three lifetimes. The rest of us have been under the mere illusion of a name… When my ship was attacked that night, I pleaded just like I told you did. The then-Joohyun, named Sihyuk, pitied me and welcomed me onto his ship.

I was a simple crewmate for a few weeks. It wasn’t seamless, of course. Every night, Sihyuk would tell me that he might kill me the next morning, but he never did. Before I realized it, he started training me in all skills a pirate should have: sword fighting, strength, balance, combat, everything. After a short few months, he told me everything about his true identity and the others before him and his plans to hand the title of ‘Pirate Joohyun’ to me.

I accepted, obviously, and the next day, we stopped at a port in Europe and got a new crew. When we set sail again, I was the Captain and Sihyuk called me ‘Joohyun’ until everyone believed that I was truly Joohyun. Then Sihyuk retired from pirating forever, and during the months between then and now, I fulfilled my duties as the Pirate Joohyun.”

You nodded, absorbing his story. It seemed like both of you had a rather unconventional past two years. “Did you ever go back? Back to our village?” you wondered aloud.

He nodded sadly. “I did once a few months ago. I left disappointed when the bakery lady told me that you had moved to the castle as the new Princess.”

“I’m so -”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he stated firmly. “You did not deserve what you’ve been through, and my words were unwarranted. I did not know your side of the story and I thought harshly of you because of that.”

“It’s ok, Seokjin. I understand the pain you must have felt,” you whispered, your heart twinging at the thought of Seokjin leaving your tiny village, undoubtedly heartbroken and furious, under the impression that you no longer loved him and moved on with a rich Prince.

He paused in his steps and turned so you were directly facing him. His arms wrapped around you gently and you followed his movements. “I promise you, Y/N. You will never have to see Donghae or step foot into that castle again,” he whispered as he clutched you to his chest. You breathed in his familiar scent and tightened your arms around him. Seokjin’s hugs were just as comforting as before - if not more - and you basked in the way one of his hands rubbed circles in your lower back while the other slowly inched its way up to the back of your head.

You lifted your head up and met his eyes before you leaned in to press your lips against his. Your lips molded together perfectly, and you both rejoiced in the perfect feeling of electricity coursing through your veins and heat spreading across your chest as your mouths moved, magnificently in sync.

After your kiss, you and Seokjin continued through the forest. Seokjin, just as he mentioned, led you through expertly. You watched in amazement as he weaved you through every trap and navigated the unclear forest paths. Even when faced with unexpected monsters, Seokjin maintained his cool and swiftly killed them as if it was second nature.

(Although, he did complain about getting blood on his brand new top and singing the bottom of his pants when he nearly missed a fire trap).

The next few hours passed wonderfully with Seokjin and his comedic commentary, and you imagine that the journey would have been miserable with anyone else. When he announced that you were almost at the end of the gorge’s forest, you felt a ray of hope shine within you. Perhaps this would be the moment you’d dreamt of for the past two years. Maybe this was your second chance at life with Jin. Your excitement grew as you walked towards the visible clearing ahead, eager to leave the gorge with Jin at your side.

But of course, the prospect of being able to flee with Seokjin was too good to be true. You were right in your words before after all — Prince Donghae had found you.

[tealin]

Observation Hill

To see the post in its original format, please visit twirlynoodle.com/blog

There is no mistaking Observation Hill when you arrive at McMurdo, if you know anything about it.  It is a distinct cone, right at the end of the peninsula – even if you've never seen a picture of it, its name alone tells you it's a prime lookout, and sticking out into McMurdo sound as it does, it has clear views in every direction.

I had seen pictures of it, but I was still surprised how it loomed over the station.  Unlike the vastly larger Mt Erebus, it is visible from everywhere; whether you're eating in the Galley or crawling back to bed from the Crary lab in the wee hours, it's always looking over your shoulder.

Though not apparent in the above photo, it is clearly visible in person that there is a large cross mounted nearly at the peak of the hill.  Visitors especially from the States might assume it is just another expression of religious devotion – Christ died on a cross on a hill, so hilltop crosses are not unusual in a country which puts great stock in expressions of Christianity – but this is not another one of those things, in fact it isn't even American.  This cross was erected in January 1913 by the surviving men of the Terra Nova Expedition, as a memorial to Captain Scott and the other members of his party who died out on the Ross Ice Shelf on their way home from the South Pole.

Before the ship arrived it was decided among us to urge the erection of a cross on Observation Hill to the memory of the Polar Party.  On the arrival of the ship the carpenter immediately set to work to make a great cross of jarrah wood [an Australian hardwood].  There was some discussion as to the inscription, it being urged that there should be some quotation from the Bible because "the women think a lot of these things."  But I was glad to see the concluding line of Tennyson's "Ulysses" adopted: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."  

... Observation Hill was clearly the place for it, it knew them all so well. Three of them were Discovery men who lived three years under its shadow: they had seen it time after time as they came back from hard journeys on the Barrier: Observation Hill and Castle Rock were the two which had always welcomed them in.  It commanded McMurdo Sound on one side, where they had lived: and the Barrier on the other, where they had died.  No more fitting pedestal, a pedestal which in itself is nearly 1000 feet high, could have been found. 

(Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, pp.565-7)

The establishment of the cross took two days: the first, to hack a hole in the volcanic rock in which to mount it, and the second to carry up the pieces and erect them.  

It stands nine feet out of the rocks, and many feet into the ground, and I do not believe it will ever move.  When it was up, facing out over the Barrier, we gave three cheers and one more.   (ibid., p.567)

106 years later, there is a hiking trail up Observation Hill.  I had intended to make a pilgrimage since the moment I arrived, but with everything else going on, and the ongoing challenge to get enough sleep, it wasn't until quite late in my visit that I finally made it.

My first attempt was on a relatively fine day, when I thought I could get some good views. The trailhead was clearly marked on the station map, but when I got there I couldn't find a way to reach it without crossing a fuel pipeline, and I had a dim recollection from orientation that this was a big no-no.  I wandered about looking for access until I started getting a headache from the fumes, and gave up.

The next opportunity came a few days later, after I'd found out from a veteran that it was OK just to step over the pipeline there.  It was a thickly cloudy day, and hazy by Antarctic standards, so I wouldn't get as good a view, but that did mean I could look forward to having the hill to myself.  So I stepped over the pipeline and started up.

It looks like a terribly steep climb from the bottom, but once on the slope it's not so bad, and is far less slippery than the gravel slope of Arrival Heights.  Partway up I passed a mountain rescue class, but beyond that the trail was entirely mine.

Like the rest of Ross Island, Observation Hill is volcanic in origin – in fact it was once a small volcano of its own.  Unlike the subglacial volcano that is now Castle Rock, which grew cylindrically through a hole it melted in the ice, Observation Hill must have been uncovered in its later years  at least, because it has the classic cone shape made by molten rock running down the outside.  It is a lighter colour than much of the rest of the exposed rock in the area, and in places, it gives a really good impression of being sedimentary rather than igneous.

While the climb was not as physically intense as I had feared, it did still make me very warm, and I had two pauses, not to catch my breath but to cool down.  One was to watch the rescue class, the other was when, somewhere near the top, I lost the trail, and examined the terrain for a while to guess which side would be least fall-off-able.  I chose the wrong one, it turns out – I didn't fall off, but I did have to pick my way over some bare rock and came out above the cross, which is mounted in a pocket of rubble just off the peak.

It's hard to tell from the photo but it is in fact quite large – I am an average sized female and I  stood well under the crossbar.  The inscription is still there, but over a century of blizzards have battered it, and some parts are just barely decipherable.

The names – above of the worst of the blowing grit – are still legible.  This gave me one of those moments which always seems to come by surprise.  I have lived most of my life, and certainly all of my career, in close proximity with fictional characters, who demand to be believed in, either out of escapist necessity or professional duty.  Most of the time I am off in my own little world, and the fact that that little world is now a historical moment in Antarctica does not, necessarily, make it more real, in relation to my literal present reality, than any movie I've worked on.  I know these guys were real, I have seen film footage of them, and read their handwriting, and, some of them, even met members of their families!  But when I'm up to my elbows in the work, it's easy to give it the part of my brain that suspends disbelief on a production.  Suddenly something will come along that jolts me back to their reality: in this case, a name carved on a physical object by someone who knew them personally.

At the same time, this physical object impressed upon me again just how much time separates their reality and mine.  Originally the cross was painted white, with the incised letters filled in black.  Only a little of the white paint remains in the deepest recesses of what are quite shallow letters, now.  In 1960, when Silas Wright returned and was photographed up here, the wood had already been scoured clean.  His visit was 47 years after the cross was put in place, and 49 years before mine.  The same imagination that conflates historical realities with fictional ones can make those years evaporate, but that is still a lot of years, and erosion, unlike imagination, doesn't lie.

Cherry may have believed that the cross would never move, but it has in fact blown down twice, once in the winter of 1974 and again in 1993.  Its restoration in 1994 was a significant effort: a new concrete "boot" was made for it at Scott Base and delivered to the site by helicopter, and the cross itself was relayed up the hill by teams of helpers.  (You can see photos of the event here, p.44)  I cannot say how moving it is to see such an outlay of resources and enthusiasm by people who never met the Polar Party, to perpetuate their memory.

The cross isn't the only thing to see at the top of Observation Hill, of course – there is everything else.  It turned out to be the perfect way to end my tour of Terra Nova landmarks, not only because it was the last bit of home territory the Terra Nova men themselves visited, but because I could see nearly everywhere I'd been from up here.

As you can see, it was not the greatest day for landscape photography, what with the matte light and the taller mountains being covered with cloud.  But I had not come up here to take pictures.  The sombre atmosphere befitted what I had come to do, which was to remember these men and thank The Powers That Be for the blessings that had been showered upon me in the last few weeks.

The cross faces south, towards their last camp, and the Pole.  This is, of course, a thoughtful and fitting aspect of the memorial.  It also gives the impression of a beacon, a light in a window, a lighthouse on a headland, guiding them home. The men who erected it knew the men were dead.  They are still dead.  We all know this.  But they are still out there somewhere, and it is not impossible to imagine some small irrational part of the human psyche wanting, in some small way, to show them the way back, and call them back by name.

Minna Bluff was covered in cloud, so I couldn't use it as a bellwether, but the wind started to pick up and was colder than before, so I thought I should start heading down again.  The correct trail was obvious from this end, and I poked along it for a little way before everything caught up with me and I sat down to have a little cry.

The cross is a historical artefact, and while it is not as plum or as complex as the huts, it still requires conservation.  Alarmed by the degree of erosion on the lettering, the Antarctic Heritage Trust has devised a shell to protect it from the worst of the winter winds.  That will do something, but it has already lost a lot.  When I was up there, I wondered why it hadn't ever been repainted, as the paint would go a long way to protecting it, and when the paint wore off it could just get repainted instead of eating further and further into the wood.  The raw timber is more harmonious with the environment, and I like it better aesthetically that way, as do many others I'm sure – the white cross with black letters in Debenham's photo from 1913 is very stark and artificial in such a magnificent landscape.  But it would last a lot longer.

On the other hand, generations of Antarcticans now have the cross as a touchstone, not only as their link to the history (not everyone gets to visit Cape Evans)  but as a landmark in their own experience of Antarctica.  It was personally important to the men who painted it white and put it up, but it is also personally important to hundreds, if not thousands, of people since then, who have never seen it white and don't know that's how it started, and might see the repainting as a travesty.  If it were to be conserved, to what extent would that go?  Would the letters be re-carved deeper, obliterating what remains of Davies' original work?  At what point does conservation end and adulteration begin?

The alternative is to take down the original and keep it somewhere out of the weather – Scott Base perhaps – and replace it with a replica.  Jarrah is still available, the letters could be carved afresh, it could be the bare wood everyone has known and loved for the last fifty years at least, and the original could be saved from the effects of weather once and for all.  But doesn't this defeat the intent of the original in some way, and make it – dare I say – a Disneyland version?  Do we owe more to history to keep it as it is and let the elements wear it down, or to preserve it as long as possible and do whatever might be necessary to extend the experience and historical understanding of a place, if not its authenticity?

These are all questions that curators and conservators have been grappling with for years, so I leave it to them to make the decisions.  I am grateful to have seen the original, and to have a moment to myself up there to reflect on these things, and more.  I hope, whatever happens with it in the future, Observation Hill is not de-crossed entirely.  How else will they find the way home?

[wellsjahasghost]

the monster in my head

A/N: VILLAIN BELLAMY, TASTY. sooo this bellarke ficlet was born because i thought, what if bellamy went all void stiles on us in the final season after being captured?? like obviously, not gonna happen but it’s such a juicy concept. 

disclaimer: my knowledge of season 5-7 is so sparse it is laughable. i just wanted to write a mind-wiped!bellamy drabble basically, so please excuse my lack of detail in literally every other aspect of this. also all the typos, i wrote this really fast lol.

Clarke wakes up tied to a chair and her first thought is, I can’t believe he tricked me.

Except he’d gotten her guard down. One second she’d been walking away from the others, looking for something to eat on this godforsaken planet they’d landed on, and the next-- he’d appeared.

Right in front of her. The sight of him disarmed her so much, she’d only been halfway through saying his name when he hit her, and she’d been knocked out.

Now here he is again.

Bellamy, sitting in a chair opposite to her-- but he’s not the Bellamy she knows.

Except he is, she realizes with a start. He’s the Bellamy of before Praimfaya, his hair curly and unruly over his forehead, his jaw clean-shaven. His familiar, handsome face would settle her if it weren’t for the cold look in his eye. 

“Bellamy?” she says slowly, drowsily. Am I talking to Bellamy?

“Clarke,” he says pleasantly, and she realizing he’s twiddling a pocket knife in his fingers. Even the way he says her name is cold, and she didn’t realize how warmly he used to say it until just right now. 

The way he tilts his head to consider her is entirely foreign. Not in the way of people who were controlled by ALIE, where their movements were robotic, un-humanlike. No, this comes entirely from him, just... a different version of him. He’s wearing different clothes, too. All black. Black jacket too. His clothes and his skin and his hair are all clean, and pristine, like he’s been well cared for while he was gone.

Clarke, at this point, has grown used to the impossible happening. She just accepts in this moment that this Bellamy is not her Bellamy, and focuses on other things, like getting out of here and living another day to find out what happened to him.

They’re in a tiny, one-room cabin. Tools all over the place. Her hands are tied behind her. She stretches her wrists experimentally. No slack at all.

“What are you doing?” she asks Bellamy, who’s just been watching her take in her surroundings.

“We’ve been looking for you,” he says, still fiddling with his knife.

“Who’s been looking for me?” No answer. “Bellamy, what-- what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in--”

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” Bellamy says, bored. He tilts his head suddenly and stands. “Time to go. They’re waiting for us.”

“What do you mean it’s time to--” she cuts herself off as he strides towards her. She stays entirely still as he pulls the gun from his thigh holster and presses it to her temple.

“You try anything, and we see what your brain looks like decorating the wall.”

His voice is casual. Her heart beats faster.

“That’s a lie,” she guesses. “You’re bringing me to someone, and they want me alive. They wouldn’t be happy if you killed me.”

He laughs, lowly. "You willing to bet your life on that?”

He leans over her and cuts her free from the chair.

“Walk to the door,” he says against her ear, and she obediently stands.

“Do you remember me?” she asks, as he nudges her forward with the gun to her temple. He’s still got that knife in his other hand. It would be perfect to cut through the ropes around her wrists. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know who you are, Clarke. I just don’t care.” He presses the gun against her temple harder. 

“Someone’s controlling you,” she guesses. From his silence, she guesses she’s right. “Are you still Bellamy?” 

“That’s right.”

“Bellamy would never do this. He wouldn’t threaten to blow my brains out.”

“Well, I just did,” Bellamy replies. “So I guess you don’t know me very well.”

They keep walking forward. Towards the open door, revealing a grassy clearing beyond. “That’s okay,” Clarke replies. “I know it’s not you I’m talking to right now. I forgive you, Bellamy. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you.”

He falters. That’s when Clarke makes her move.

She ducks from under his gun. He fires-- he fires!-- into the empty space where her head was. She tackles him around the middle, making them both tumble into the ground. 

Bellamy’s caught off guard-- his movements slow, clumsy for a second, and she presses her advantage. She’s on top of him. He’s still got a tight grip on his knife, and she wraps her wrists around it, tearing through the rope binding her hands together with one strong pull.

He seems to wake up from whatever confusion he was in when she scrambles off him, his knife in her hand. She’s only made it two steps before he grabs her ankle and tries to yank her down again. Before she can fall, she grabs onto the chair he’d been sitting on for leverage. It crashes down with them.

Bellamy tries to pull her towards him. She grabs the chair leg and swings it over-- the chair is surprisingly light--bashing whatever part of his body she can reach behind him.

He grunts and releases her. She staggers up and sprints out of the cabin.

She’s in the middle of a clearing, in a forest she doesn’t recognize, with a sky up above that she doesn’t recognize either. She has no fucking clue where she is.

Right down to what planet she is on.

“Not so fast, Clarke...”

His voice is a sing-song from behind her. She whips her head around, and there he is, wiping blood from his face, but not looking angry at all. He’s walking towards her leisurely, and tucking the gun back into his thigh holster. He actually looks on the verge of a smile. Like he’s enjoying this.

“What now, princess? Where you gonna go?” he says softly, and the words are familiar and horrible in their new context. A chill races up her spine. She turns back around and sprints into the forest.

She’s running blindly for a few seconds, completely terrified out of her mind. She trips over a root, and then she’s tumbling down a steep bank, sand spraying around her as she falls. Pain explodes through her shoulder, and then the back of her head, and her back, and she just keeps falling and falling, and she doesn’t know which way is up or down, just that everything hurts.

She finally gets to the bottom of the hill, rolling into freezing cold water. She’s fallen into a stream. It takes her several moments to gather herself, and in that time she distantly hears footsteps coming down the bank. No. No. 

Gasping, she rolls off her back, onto her hands and knees. Looks up only to see a hand coming down at her.

Bellamy yanks at her hair. Hard. She cries out, and he kneels beside her, prying the knife from her hands and tossing it far down the stream.

“You tried to shoot me in the head,” she gasps, unable to grasp that concept. It just makes no sense. The people he’s bringing her to must want her alive. “The people in control of you-- they wouldn’t have wanted me dead-- so why--”

He dunks her head underwater. She fights, struggles against him, throws her elbows, but he’s firm. He pulls her out after just a second. She’s gasping for air, wet hair stuck to her cheeks, the cold drenching her shirt and making her shiver. He leans in close, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear.

“The thing the people in control of me don’t know,” he says softly, “is that they don’t have very good control of me at all.”

She turns her head to stare at him, the dark eyes she can see her own terrified reflection in, his freckled cheekbones she knows so well, the curls hanging over his eyes. If it weren’t for the things he was doing, the things he was saying, she would say he looks in this moment exactly like the Bellamy who stood beside her and ordered her to write her name down on a list.

Except right now there is a monster lurking under his skin, and she’s starting to think the people who unleashed it didn’t know what they were doing.

“What did they do to you, Bellamy?” she asks, her voice tender, and his grip on her hair loosens slightly. “What did they do to make you like this?”

But then he gets a better grip, and dunks her back in the water again.

He keeps her there for so long her lungs scream for air. She makes herself go limp, but right when she does, he pulls her out again, and easily blocks her attempts to hit him. Backhands her instead, stunning her with pain.

He knows her game. He knows her too damn well for playing dead to work.

Clarke gulps breath into her lungs. She can’t understand what happened to him to make him like this. She only knows it must have been horrible, worse than Mount Weather, worse than anything she could imagine. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them from hurting you,” she says, again as soft as butter, and his eyes narrow. He dunks her back in.

When he pulls her back out, she manages to gasp, “I will kill the people who did this to you,” and he dunks her back in again. This time he holds her under for so long she actually blacks out for a second.

She comes to a moment later, leaning against his shoulder. He’s looking down at her with a storm in his eyes. She gazes up at him. He seems to be waiting for her to say something.

She says, “I’m going to do everything I can to bring you back--”

“Stop,” he says, and his voice sounds pained. “Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

He lets go of her, and his hands sink into his own hair, his expression hard and enraged and emotions flickering over his face a mile a minute. Clarke manages to clamber back on her hands and knees, shakily. She reaches to touch him.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, shoving her away, and she lets him, but then she puts her hands back on his face, gently. She traces her fingers over his jaw, brushes her thumb against the corner of his lip.

She’s sure she doesn’t imagine when he leans into it.

Suddenly Bellamy laughs, and the sound is bitter and disbelieving.

“I am trying to kill you,” he informs her. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s the one who’s been held underwater.

She smiles, gently again. “I know.”

Because she gets it, suddenly. His motivation to end her life is not because he actually wants her dead. The monster inside him is trying to kill whatever’s left of Bellamy, by killing her.

But he still can’t do it, and that’s how she knows there’s hope. That’s how she knows Bellamy is somewhere in there, fighting, maybe even at this very moment.

Bellamy reaches for her throat then, as if he might strangle her, but then it comes up and he brushes her wet hair out of her eyes, tucks the strand behind her ear. Like he can’t help himself. Then his hand tightens on the back of her neck again. His eyes harden, expression becoming blank. The monster has taken over completely again.

She leans in and kisses him.

He freezes. Her mouth is numb from the freezing water, but his is warm, and soft, and for half a second, he kisses her back.

She doesn’t know if she’s kissing the monster, or Bellamy, or the monstrous part of Bellamy. She doesn’t give herself time to find out.

She reaches behind her for the biggest rock she can get her hands on in the stream, then swings it at his temple.

The thunking sound is horrible. He topples over on his side. The splash his body makes as he falls over in the stream is small, nearly inaudible over the loud rush of water.

She staggers to her feet, gets her hands under his arms and drags him out of the water. She deposits him in the mud and stares down at him. His head lolls to the side. His eyes are closed, his expression open and innocent. He might be sleeping, if it weren’t for the gash on his head, half-obscured by dark curls, where she hit him with the rock. He’s bleeding. She’ll have to clean it.

She runs her hand over her mouth, still breathing raggedly. 

Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.

She hefts him up from under his arms again and starts to drag him back up the bank, her heels slipping in the wet ground. But she’s determined. They’re not far from that cabin. She’ll tie him up in the same chair he had her in.

And then? She has no clue. There’s only one thing she knows.

She pauses to catch her breath, and leans in close to his ear to make a vow to him, a vow she has always made to him ever since they landed on Earth. 

“I am not giving up on you.”

[snarkwrites]

ssw | embry call; he looks down. she looks up.

NOTES:

I preface with the following.. I am not a medical professional. I have never had any kind of amnesia, temporary or otherwise. So.. yeah. Anyway.. the tldr here is this idea came to me and it’s weird and i didn’t know what to think of it at first but honestly, having written it out now I kind of like it? And I think it’s gonna be a short series... kinda? Allow me to elaborate.. normally, for the ssw prompts I use like 3 or four six word sentences as ideas / parts of the oneshot, etc but with this one, I think I’m going to use one for each part because I did that with this one and I like the way it came out?  Since I had four other equally good prompts chosen for the doc I started with him, I’m just gonna use the rest of those to kinda continue this? To an extent?

Anyway, enough rambling. 

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ]. 

Inspiration / prompt used here was He looks down. She looks up.

FANDOM/CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OC, Merisa.

WARNING:

Amnesia tw. Injuries mentioned very vaguely. Beyond that, I guess mutual pining / a kinda slow burn and mentions of a jerk soon to be ex boyfriend.. Embry and this original character are both adults, approx 23-24 years in age just in case anyone’s wondering...

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​​

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The last thing I remember is hitting a water pocket. My head bouncing off the steering wheel. The sound of metal groaning and glass shattering before everything went totally black. 

And now, upon awakening, everything is foggy... At first,I can’t remember my name, where I was going or where I came from. I can’t even remember what day or year it is.

When I really started to come to, everything hurt. From the roots of my hair all the way to the tips of my toes. I grimaced as I pulled myself up in bed. My stomach was growling. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room and the scent of bacon frying only worsened the pronounced hunger I was feeling.

“Where am I?” I muttered to myself as I gingerly made an attempt to slip out of bed. But the second my bare feet connected with aged and cold wooden floorboards, the mild pain I’d been feeling only intensified. When the door to the room creaked open quietly, I was just getting back into bed.

The man standing in the doorway didn’t spark a shred of recognition. God do I wish he did because I like to think that if I even have a type, he has to be it. He kind of looks like a man you’d find gracing the cover of the cheap erotica I read.

At the realization that I’d just remembered something, even if it was something insignificant, I was laughing softly at myself and shaking my head about it. I took a deep breath.

“Uh.. hi.” I muttered finally, just to break the silence and the sudden thickening of the air around us.

He hadn’t broken his gaze or made a step into the room. When I spoke up, he jumped a little as if I’d startled him. My brow raised and I tried again. “Do I know you?”

“Not likely. Not well, I mean...” the guy answered after a second or two of hesitation.

I blew at a strand of hair fallen down in my eye. Dragged my fingers through my hair as I mulled it over. “Okay, let’s try this… How did I get here?”

“How much do you remember?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me. Avoiding the question I’d asked. I swallowed hard and really tried to think. Trying to grasp at anything, any shred of a memory.

I remembered the sound of metal groaning. Glass shattering. The icy chill of water as it lapped at my feet. Feeling like I was about to die at any second. My brows knit in frustration and the guy was at my side in seconds. Sitting hesitantly on the bed near me. Close but not close enough for my liking somehow.

I pouted about it for a second or two and pushed it to the side, taking a deep breath. “I was in a wreck, wasn’t I?”

“Mhm. You almost died, actually.”

“I thought so. Okay, now it’s your turn.. Where am I?”

“You’re in La Push.”

The words stirred little bits. Fragments of memory. An older woman with a kind but aging face. The smell of bourbon and a man with long black hair shouting at another woman. Stepping forward like he was going to shove her at any second. A little girl crouched out of sight behind furniture until the older woman picked her up and carried her out. And I knew without knowing somehow that the little girl was me.

I grimaced. Both in confusion and irritation that I couldn’t remember more. Because whatever I’d just recalled felt like it happened a lifetime ago and not recently.

How old was I?

“You remembered something, huh?” he asked, studying me quietly. A look of concern on his face.

“I think… But it doesn’t answer anything I’m wondering at the moment.” I sighed and took a deep breath. Asked another question after a few seconds that seemed to drag on forever. “What’s your name?”

“Embry.”

Another random trivial memory surfaced. The woman  was there again. Introducing me to a group of boys who were all dirty from playing in the mud. I strained to focus. Honing in on the fact that she introduced me to the group as her granddaughter. My name was Merisa.

I cheered a little in triumph, forgetting for just the briefest of moments that I was literally a breathing ball of pain at the moment when I shot up off the bed to pump my fist in the air. Embry’s hand caught on my hips and he managed to keep me from crashing to the floor.

He smiled. A smile so bright that it seemed to bring light to the dullness of the room we were in. A smile, I found myself thinking, I’d give anything to see again.

“Easy. Whoa. The doctor said you’ve got some pretty gnarly injuries.” Embry scolded as he looked down at me in concern.

I nodded. Excited when I opened my mouth and started to babble about remembering my name. Remembering my grandmother and possibly growing up here in town. And on the heels of the happy came the sad.

A casket. A graveside service with gray clouds overhead and a fine mist of rain. Feeling numb and empty. Angry for some reason. This had me frowning. Shaking my head sadly.

“She’s dead.” I muttered the words. Deflated. Numb all over again.

Embry watched me like I was a landmine waiting to be triggered, his brow raising as if something I’d remembered was wrong but he didn’t dare tell me so. Sitting up like he was on high alert. Like he wanted to move closer. To attempt to offer comfort. But he didn’t dare.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I raised my hand and stopped it midway. Taking a few shaky breaths. The night of the accident came flooding back, the gaps filling themselves in as it did. I’d been crying when I left my mom’s funeral. Trying to call my grandmother. But I remembered that she was at a tribal meeting and she didn’t keep her phone turned on during tribal meetings. I must have taken my eyes off the road for a second, tops. The car hit a water pocket and went off the road. Hitting trees and flipping over a time or two before settling at the bottom of a steep hill. Next to water. Someone was pulling me out of my car. I recognized in an instant that Embry had been the one to pull me out. I remembered that he volunteered with fire and rescue.

I went quiet as I finished telling him what I was remembering. Wiping at my eyes.

And then it hit me. I didn’t really know Embry well but I did know of him aside from the fact that he pretty much saved my life the night of my accident... He was also the quiet kid down the street. One of the boys my grandma introduced me to that day.

“I do know you, actually.” I smiled at him softly, wiping at my eyes. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t mention that I knew he saved my life. 

“Yeah, but not well. Kind of why I figured you’d have a meltdown when your grandma asked me to sit with you while she was out.” Embry muttered quietly. Leaning in just a little. His hand raised. A thumb rolling over my cheek as he wiped away another tear. Our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat.

“So we’re at my grandma’s. My old room.” I looked around at the room again and it felt right. From the books piled on my desk, an erotic novel turned face up and open where I’d left off reading to the posters tacked up on the wall. A contrast to my apartment I realized as soon as I started to remember the fact that I lived in Seattle.

I racked my brain trying to remember whether anyone there would be worried or missing me. I felt like there was someone waiting back there, but at the same time, I felt like maybe being here was better than being there.

Like whoever it was that might be waiting was someone I wanted to get away from.

“Greg called.” Embry spoke up after a second or two. He dragged his hand through long black hair as he held my gaze. A slightly irritated look on his face at even mentioning the guys name. “He wanted me to make sure I didn’t forget to tell you.” Embry chuckled at this, going quiet again.

When he said the name Greg, the mental image flooded my mind and my previous thought about someone waiting in Seattle proved correct. Greg was my boyfriend and honestly, he was a bit of an asshole. Uptight and moody. A bit on the controlling side under the guise of ‘this is for your own good’. I immediately started to remember a huge fight we had because apparently, he wasn’t happy about me coming back to the reservation for my mom’s funeral. Leaving him. But he refused to come along with me because to quote him “It’s not my type of thing.” and “I’m not good at emotional stuff, Mer.”

 I grumbled and shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to talk to that bag of dicks.” I muttered, brushing it off. More concerned with my own current situation than I was with calling Greg to check in. It wasn’t as if he’d magically care enough to come anyway, he hadn’t come back with me for my mom’s funeral. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth because I remembered several instances in a rush. All of them were me, giving up something I wanted because Greg insisted on it.

,, Christ, why am I even with this mega asshole? I mean.. My grandma lives next to the literal embodiment of sex...” the thought had me perplexed because I didn’t remember enough to really pinpoint a good reason. Something told me that may or may not be a blessing in disguise. From the little I was able to recall about Embry, I found myself wondering why I wasn’t with him or someone like him instead.

Seattle must have changed me a lot. And apparently, not for the better. Why had I even left La Push to begin with?

And then I remembered.. My mom met another guy and we wound up moving to a military base in Seattle. And we moved around so much that I never really got to spend much time with my grandma because we were too far away to make the trip back and too broke to afford it. So leaving La Push hadn’t ever been my choice.

“Yeah, he seemed like an asshole.” Embry muttered, his gaze settling on his legs. The tension between us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe. My breath actually caught in my throat for a second or two and desperately, I tried to come up with something to say. Anything.

“I smelled food…” I muttered quietly. Looking down just as he looked up after I’d said it. He chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to mentioning you’re hungry. Your stomach’s been growling for a while now.”

My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip, nodding. Embry stood and eyed me for a few seconds. “Do you think you can make it?”

“I don’t know..” just the thought of even trying to stand again given my amount of pain had me tensing a little. Quickly and gracefully, Embry grabbed hold of me, scooping me into strong arms. Carrying me down the hallway and into the dining room. He sat me down in a chair and made his way into the kitchen.

He came back out a few minutes later with a plate full of food. I eyed it hungrily and he sat down, taking a sip from a glass of orange juice. I dug into my food and more than a few times, I felt the weight of his stare. At one point, it prompted me to look up and meet his gaze, both of us laughing.

“What?” I asked, swallowing the bite I’d just taken.

“You act like you haven’t eaten in years.” Embry replied, giving me a teasing smirk as he spoke.

“I haven’t eaten anything this tasty.” I replied, wiping at my mouth because I felt syrup on the corner. “Sorry, this is good. So good.” I groaned through another big bite. Promptly almost choking.

With a chuckle, Embry reached over, patting me between the shoulders until I stopped coughing and when our eyes met again, he teased quietly, “Can you stop trying to die on me?”

I gulped. Getting lost in his eyes and almost not managing the nod I gave in response. “Yeah.” I muttered quietly. That tension I felt before only grew thicker. Mostly to ease it and try to keep a conversation going, I took a slice of bacon and held it out to him. “C’mon. Eat a little. I feel bad, sitting here pigging out and you’re not eating.”

He eyed me and took the bacon. Biting into it as he answered, “I ate earlier.” and shrugged it off. 

The door to the house opened and my grandmother stepped inside. Dropping everything to rush over and give me a tight hug. I hugged back just as tight. “Ouch yikes.. Grandma…” I muttered. She laughed sheepishly, pulling away. Looking at me and wincing as if she felt my pain.

“At least you’re alive.” she mused. “You can stay here while you heal. I’d rather you stay here while you heal.”

I nodded, happy to agree to it. If I were to go back to Seattle, I didn’t see Greg being much help at all. Besides, I thought to myself, La Push is home. I never wanted to leave to start with.

Embry was silently making his way towards the door and my grandmother stopped him. “Thank you for sticking around today, Embry.”

“It’s not a problem. If you need me, I’m right down the road.” he answered, giving my grandmother a smile. As he said it, we locked eyes all over again. I shuffled my feet. But I didn’t look down or away. I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

Almost as soon as the door was closed behind him, my grandmother turned her attention to me. Lecturing me about my choice in men. Filling me in on the fact that apparently my ‘lover’ couldn’t be bothered to come and see that I was safe or even alive but damned if he wasn’t calling every ten minutes demanding me to call him back. Irritated because my grandmother apparently told him at one point if he wanted to talk to me so badly, he knew where I could be found. “He’s a bum.”

I sighed and nodded. Dropping my gaze to the glass of orange juice in front of me. “I know. I wish I could remember what the hell made me choose him…”

My grandmother eyed me in concern. After going through a long list of questions, noting the ones I had trouble recalling easily for my follow up with the hospital, she sighed. “At least you remember enough. And you’re still with me. If I lost you that night…” she paused.

I got the feeling that she wasn’t good at emotional things either. But unlike Greg, she did manage to show she cared in her own way. 

“But you didn’t. I’m going to be alright.” I reassured her and she nodded. When the phone rang, we shared a look at let it keep ringing.

“If you want to talk to him, Merisa..”

“I think I’d rather focus on myself and healing for a change. Getting my whole memory back. I get the feeling if I talk to him, it’s only going to stress me out.” I admitted after a long pause.

The phone went silent.

My grandma cleared away the dishes and found the crutches that the doctor had given me to use in the aid of getting around. Then she went over all the things the doctor told her about my injuries and the healing process.

“What about my memory?” I asked, curious. Anxious to know what I might be up against. Grateful that I remembered the most basic things about myself that I kind of needed to know.

“The doctor thought you might have some memory loss. I believe he said it would be short term because of the side of your brain the injury occurred in? With a little time and patience you’ll be fine.” my grandmother slipped an arm around me and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “Maybe the parts you don’t remember clearly are a blessing, yeah?”

I eyed her, considering what she said. She might not be entirely wrong…

“Embry’s always been a kind young man. Quiet. Respectful.” my grandmother mused after a few seconds of quiet. I gave a soft laugh and muttered, “Yeah. He seemed like a good guy.”

I won’t bother lying.. I hope I see more of Embry while I’m staying here at my grandmother’s… Something tells me I definitely will...

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.

[brelione]

Field Trip With A Rich Bitch ll (Rafe Cameron X Reader)

Warnings:Ward Cameron,Mentions of Arsenic Poisoning,Mentions of heavy drugs,mentions of bipolar disorder,mentions of death,Rafe being too tall for every day life

He raised his eyebrows. “Where?”He asked.You rolled your eyes,wishing you had a bottle of wine to take a swig from in that moment. “What?You scared you’re gonna get mud on your shoes?”You asked.He sighed,scratching the back of his neck. “How far away is it?”He asked. “Nevermind,rich bitch,clearly you don't want to know the truth about your father.”You went to turn around but his hand grabbed your wrist quickly. “No,no it's not like that...I just wanna know where we’re going.”He mumbled.You pulled your hand from his grasp,staring down at him. “Come on,then.”You told him,beginning your walk outside the garage.His bike was nearly done,scratches holes and dents gone.The last thing to fix was the seat which wouldn't take long at all.He grabbed his phone,sliding it in his pocket.

He followed you out of the garage,waiting with his hands in his pockets as you pulled the garage door shut,bending over to place a lock on it.You could feel him staring at you. “Stop being a perv.”You grumbled,clicking the lock shut and stood back up.You could see the red blush on his cheek,spreading down his neck and ears.He was so easy to fluster.It was hilarious.Rafe had beat the living hell out of multiple teenagers,made some children cry with a glance and came from one of the most powerful families.But here you were,bossing him around,making him blush and causing him to stutter out apologies.You had that power over most people.Some kooks called you a demon and you embraced it.Most people didn't know it but you had the word tattooed on your thigh with two devil horns hovering over it.You were manipulative,assertive and strong.

You had the charm and the looks to get people to like you without knowing you and you had the glare that made the hair on the back of people’s necks stick up straight.You hadnt always been like that,only becoming this emotionless ball of rage after Ward Cameron had destroyed everything that made your life worth living.The beautiful thing was you had Ward Cameron’s one and only son wrapped around your finger and there was nothing he could do about it.Rafe was deprived of attention.Not only was Ward a terrible person but a terrible father as well.Rafe was desperate for attention now and if you gave him the attention he wanted he was all yours.You knew that and deep down he knew it too. “We’ll take the woods,I can't risk being seen with you.”You walked around the back of the garage.It was a steep hill full of rocks and some poison ivy.You knew where not to step and Rafe did his best to step the same places you did.You were pretty far ahead of him,around ten feet.Down the hill was a narrow pavement trail,cracks and holes all over it. “Anyone ever told you that you walk slow for a tall person?”You asked.

He grinned to himself,trying not to fall while also trying not to hit his head on any branches. “How long do you think we’ll be out for?”He asked.You shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”You replied,walking along the narrow pavement.Rafe wasn't used to being in the woods,at least not this deep in the woods,he was jumping at every noise. “Do you think that was a wolf?” “No.” “Did you hear that?” “No.” “Oh my god-what if there's a dead body out here?” “Rafe.We’re going to a cemetery,if there are no dead bodies then that would be a problem.” “I hate cemeteries.” “Well that sucks for you.” As you were coming to the end of the narrow pavement into the grass Rafe jumped from the crunch of a twig,grabbing onto you and pulling you to his chest.You stood stiff,his arms tightening around your waist as he listened for more sounds. “Are you going to let go of me or will I have to drag you?”You asked.He let go of you with a huff. “Do you think we should head back?”He asked.You sighed.

This was what you got from bringing a kook into the woods. “You're such a pussy.”You sighed,continuing your walk.He kept kicking the back of your heel by accident because he was so close behind you.You two walked onto the grass,looking across the field at the gravestones,benches and statues.He had come here a few times for late night drug deals and drinking with Kelce and Topper.It was a creepy old place that always made him shiver.Beer cans and red solo cups littered the ground from his previous trips here.You sighed as you looked across the graveyard to one corner,the one furthest away.He watched as you began your walk across the field.Most of the graves were covered in pollen and dirt splotches,the grass almost as tall as the stones themselves.It was gross and unkept and smelled like weed and cheap beer from gas stations.His feet were sinking into the mud,causing him to grumble something about how annoying it would be to clean them.He dragged his feet as he followed you to one large stone with vines growing up the sides.There were muddy streaks across the names like someone had tried to wipe it clean with a dirty hand.

 “Rafe,meet my parents.Mom,Dad meet the rich bitch.”You sighed,standing in front of the grave.Rafe’s eyes widened,his chest tightening.You grinned at his reaction. “What?”You asked.He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.What was he even supposed to say?Sorry your parents are dead and ended up in this shitty cemetery.Sorry I dealt cocaine by your parents grave.Sorry half those beer cans are mine. “Close your mouth Rafe,you look like a trout.”You smirked.He closed his mouth,gulping and tapping his leg nervously. “I bet you’re wondering what your dad has to do with this.”You spoke,observing his expression.He nodded,looking at the date on the grave.They had both died on the same day of 2004 which meant you were only two years old at the time. “You ever wonder how your father got all that money in the first place?Cause I can tell you it's definitely not whatever bull shit story he’s been telling everyone.”You used the sleeve of your yellow shirt to wipe the dirt off your parents’ names.He bit the inside of his cheek,waiting for you to continue. 

“Your dad was a dealer.He was my parents dealer.Im not talking about weed either,I mean the heavy shit.Heroin,crack,xanax.What kind of asshole deals xanax?Anyways,he sold to my parents and when they tried to get off the stuff he convinced them to keep buying from him.When they found my ma’s body they found that same heavy shit in her system.But here’s where the story gets really interesting.Not only did they find the heroin but guess what they found.Guess.”You ordered him.He blinked,glancing between you and the grave. “I-I dont know.”He mumbled.You nodded. “Arsenic.Your shitty father poisoned the drugs he gave my parents.WHo does that?”You sighed,flicking a bug off of the grave stone.He bit his lip as he took in this new information. “And he didnt get arrested or charged or anything?”He asked.

You laughed. “What do you think?You think Sarah Cameron would exist?You think you’d live in that big house with all of that nice stuff and your fancy ass gold plated spoons?No.None of that would be possible if your father got what he deserved.You know what your father got?A nice house,millions of dollars,a handsome son and multiple yachts.Thats what he got after killing my parents.You know what I had to grow up with?A one bedroom house with three cousins and a bipolar aunt.Thats what I got.”You ranted,tears stinging in your eyes as you got louder and louder.He didn't say anything,scared that only squeaks would come out.You bit your lip to hold back to the tears,the water leaking from your eyes and down your cheeks as you laughed. “And now my aunt and my baby cousin are dead too!”You gestured to the grave next to you. “And you know what else?I've had to work for 12 years of my life and you know where I live?In a shitty house thats falling apart and all I do is work on cars and bikes every single day and I cant even feel my hands anymore and I have fucking broken toes from kneeling all day and I cant even afford to go to a fucking hospital.And the only person that I can blame is your dad.”You wiped the tears from your face with your sleeves,smearing dirt across your cheekbone.

His bottom lip quivered,fingertips going numb as he listened to you.Something compelled him to step forward,grabbing your waist gently and pulling you into a hug.You did not fight him.If it were under any other circumstances then telling him that his father had been a drug lord,killed your parents,ruined your life and caused you to work every day of your life then maybe you wouldn't have accepted the hug.You never thought you’d be hugging Rafe Cameron,or any kook for that matter. “I can um...I can bring you to the hospital to get your toes fixed.”He offered.You laughed into his chest,getting tears on his shirt. “Wow,thanks.”You whispered,laughing again.He gulped,resting his chin on your head.It seemed that you had both needed a hug.You were holding onto him so tightly,holding fistfulls of his shirt in your hands.He hadnt hugged anyone in years and it seemed that you hadnt either. “Do yourself a favor and don't turn into your father.And if you keep going down the path you’re going down now then you’ll end up just like my parents.”You sighed.He frowned.

You sounded like one of those commercials of people staring at the camera with crocodile tears running down their faces as they talked about some loved one who had died and how drugs weren't the answer.You probably didn't know though,it wasn't like you could afford cable.He just nodded,knowing you did not need his attitude right now. “(Y/N).”He mumbled.You hummed,closing your eyes.You didnt cry often and never in front of people but when you did cry it stung like hell.You couldn't exactly rub your eyes with your fingers either because they had traces of oil and chemicals. “What if we piss my father off and get him to confess to the murders?”He asked.You sniffled,looking up at him with puffy eyes. “How?”You asked.

Part Three will be up this weekend!

@gabbismith​

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Of Gods and Men

Masterlist:  

Title: Of Gods and Men

Fandom: Supernatural / Vikings

Pairing: Destiel and Sabriel

Rating: Lemon

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, smut, angst, still some fluff

Summary: A Vikings inspired Destiel fic.

     Dean, Barbarian King of the lands, must make a crucial decision in the survival of his people. Leave the one and only land and life they have ever known, leave their home, or make the possibly dangerous journey across the seas to a potentially better life. Who knows what will await him across the waters, hope, future, maybe even destiny.

AO3 Link 

Masterlist

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Chapter one

     The sun was beginning to rise over the fields of Nazareth. The sky painted orange and pink over the sea, casting deep shadows over their boats that were docked there, making them look like haunted silhouettes in the early dawn light. Sam lifted his head to peer out over the sea, then turned to gaze upon their fields. He sighed and leaned on his shovel as he was faced with mostly emptiness. 

     Beside him Dean continued to work in the early morning. Sam watched as over and over again Dean pounded his hoe into the ground with every inch of desperation he had. Sweat was dripping off his face, trailing down his chin and nose, soaking into the useless soil beneath them. He paused a moment and took a deep, heaving breath, before leaning down to sift a hand through the dirt. Nothing. Not even a dead root to prove seed had even been planted there. 

     "It is of no use, Brother," Sam shifted off his hoe and stepped beside Dean with a frown, "the fields are dead, and those fields we have left that are hanging on still, are not far behind. The soil just cannot produce for us any longer."

     "I know this, Sam, but what more can we do but continue to try," he stood straight and waved a hand over the barren fields, "maybe more fertilizer, or perhaps another sacrifice-"

     "Dean," Sam sighed and shook his head, "we have made sacrifice after sacrifice, and nothing has changed. I do not think the Gods are our problem here."

     "Then what? What else?"

     "This could be a sign," he looked up and took another step towards Dean, "a sign that it is time to move on, seek out other options.".

     "You speak of leaving home! Leaving Nazareth!" He exclaimed, eyes wide and unbelieving, "Sam, we know nothing else."

     "What other choice do we have here, Brother?" He shook his head, "The fields produce not but the most withered of crops, if any, all half rotten before they are birthed from the ground. Most of the fields do not even give us as much, they breathe no life, not even a worm to turn the soil. We've killed most of our animals for food where the fields have not supplied, and what little livestock we do have left will be gone by spring. We will be lucky to make it through the winter with what we have left, and come spring we will no longer be able to feed our people. Starvation will set in and disease shortly after. Many of the elders and young ones are already having troubled times, they will not survive if we run out of food. We need to find another way."

     "And what exactly do you suggest I do?!" Dean shouted as he tossed his hoe across the field then turned back to Sam, "The lands around us are all spoken for, ruled by Earls and Lords, so we cannot take them in hopes of better land for crops. And even if we wanted to try and take those lands for ourselves, it is as you say, our people are weak from our already depleted stocks. We couldn't fight a war even if we had to, fighting for land and territory is completely out of the question. So tell me, dear brother, what else?"

     Sam nodded, he knew his brother was right. There was no extra land around them to be used, no men strong enough to fight for them, but then a thought came and he nearly shouted it at Dean, "The seas!"

     "Sam-" He began with a sigh. 

     "Listen first," he moved to stand directly in front of Dean, placing his hands on his shoulders with a light shake, "I have seen it in a dream, Brother. Across the seas, a four days float towards the rising sun, there will come a land far more plentiful than any we have ever seen. The soils there are ripe with crops for years to come, pregnable where ours are not, our people will flourish in these lands long after we are dead and gone. Once we are settled there will be no starvation, no disease, no hurt, no heartache, Dean. And you!"

     "Me?" He questions, "What about me?"

     "You, my brother, Barbarian King of the lands, married and blessed with child. No," he stops and turns away from Dean for a moment, eyes closed as if willing his mind back to the dream, "not child, children! And you running carefree through our crops, a smile on your face and your babes in your arms and on your legs, all of you laughing and happy. For once in your life I watch you living without the burdens of all our people on your shoulders."

     "Sam, it is not the question of my happiness that will make this decision," he sighed and walked forwards to join his brother, looking out over the endless sea together, the sun now fully above the horizon, "in the end I must do what is best for our people, even if that means I should be forever the vision of misery. But perhaps I should visit the Gods and seek their counsel, ask them for guidance on the matter."

     Sam turned to his brother cupping his cheeks with both hands, “Yes! Yes, Brother! Speak to the Gods, for they dote upon you. They will tell you the best path to take for the good of our people.”

     “I will then, tomorrow at dawn I shall ride to their house.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Dean stood at the entrance to Nazareth, dawn was chasing him from behind, creeping over the sea as he readied his horse for the ride to the house of the Gods. He ran a gentle hand down Elskans broad neck and the beautiful black stallion pushed back against him. He nuzzled into Dean as he continued to pet him, whispering softly to him, “You will get me safely to the house of the Gods, yes Elskan?” The horse seemed to almost nod in answer and Dean smiled, “I knew I could trust you to take care of me.”

     “I've known no better companion than your Elskan, it is true.” Dean turned from his horse to the newcomers now approaching him with more saddle bags. Sam also gave the horse a gentle pat before turning to his brother. “For how long do you ride?”

     Dean turned back to look at the sun still rising, but quickly approaching them as they stood, “If I leave now I should arrive around midday, as long as Elskan rides true.”

     “You better get going then, Brother, no need to leave this wait any longer,” he then lifted the bags in his hands and began turning towards the horse as he spoke over his shoulder, “we brought you more food for the journey, the Gods are tricky sometimes. You may be there a while before they decide to grant you answers to your questions, though I do hope they give you an answer quickly. I shall put these on your saddle so you may be on your way.”

     He nodded in thanks to his brother, then turned and took the few steps to the other man who had come to see him off. He held up a smaller wrapped package to Dean placing it in his hands with a smile. “Some treats for the journey.”

     Dean smiled back as he took the package, “Thank you, Gabriel, though you should have kept these for yourself. Food is scarce these days and I have plenty for the way.”

     He waved him off with a playful scoff, “I need them not. And besides, if I continue eating all the treats I make, and get any chubbier than I already am, your brother will never come around to me.”

     Dean looked back to where Sam was strapping the last of the saddle bags to Elskan, then back to say softly to Gabriel so his brother would not hear, “You will look after my brother while I am gone, won't you?”

     “Of course.”

     “I will be back as soon as I can,” he placed a hand on Gabriels shoulder with a squeeze, “hopefully the Gods answer me quickly so I may return and we can decide on our next move.”

     Gabriel reached over and grabbed Deans shoulder too, “May the Gods be with you, Dean, stay safe.”

     “And may they be with you, Gabriel.”

     Dean leaned forwards and touched his forehead to Gabriels before turning back to Sam who was now behind him. In the same gesture he pulled Sams forehead to his and whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid while I am gone.”

     Sam laughed, “Worry not about me, Brother, for I know you have already solicited the aid of a spy.”

     Sam eyed Gabriel over Dean's shoulder. “He is not a spy, Sam, but at least I know with him looking after you it's less likely that you will do anything stupid.” Sam continued to eye Gabriel, then Dean brought his face back to his with a hand on his cheek. “Why do you push him away? He dotes after you.”

     “You mean follows me around like a pup that's lost its mother.”

     Dean gave his brother a look, “Sammy, I would give anything to have someone want for my attention as much as he does for yours. Give him a chance.”

     He looked once more over at Gabriel who gave him a fond smile, then back at Dean, “We shall see. Once the Gods help you make your decision, I shall make mine.” Sam then lifted his head to look at the sun now clear over the edge of the sea. “You should go, Brother, else you will be riding till nightfall.”

     Dean nodded and tapped his head once more against Sams, “Gods be with you, Sammy.”

     “Gods be with you, Brother.”

     He walked with Dean over to his horse, watched as he mounted, then gave him one last nod as he watched him ride into the forest out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     His ride for the most part was quiet, and he was thankful for that as he pulled Elskan to a stop at the bottom of a steep hill in the forest. Midday was now upon them, the ride had taken just as long as he had expected, and now the final part of his journey was upon him. 

     He dismounted Elskan and moved to run a hand down his nose. "You wait here for me, Elskan, I know not how long I will be so do not leave without me."

     The horse shook its head in response and Dean smiled. He gave Elskan one last pat then turned and began his trek up the steep hill. 

     It was late afternoon before he finally reached the top, stopping only for a moment to awe in the splendor of the house of the Gods. A grand temple stood before him, said to have been built by Odin and his sons, come down to earth to gift them with this breathtaking magnificence.  

     Slowly he made his way to the gold steps of the temple, and up to the majestically carved wooden doors that stood nearly as tall as the trees they were made from. Every time Dean came to visit the Gods he was overtaken by the sheer beauty of this place, of the craftsmanship of the Gods, it could never compare to that of the human hand. He gently ran his hands down the intricate carvings on the doors, the stories of the Gods themselves laid out before him, and after a moment he pushed with both hands and entered the temple. 

     He was instantly washed over with a calm in the house of the Gods, something he had not felt in years. The woes of his people had taken a great toll on Dean, and he could only hope and pray that the Gods would give him the help he so desperately craved. This was his last chance, his people's last chance for survival. If the Gods had nothing to give him then all of Nazareth would surely die. 

     At the thought he took a deep breath, soaking in the calm of the temple, and made his way to the center of the room. There stood a tree, taller even then the temple itself and older then even the Gods. The tree stretched it's limbs out towards the sky, reaching for the Gods above, nearly tall enough to touch them. This is why Odin had chosen this tree and built their temple around it, the one connection between man and Gods. And on either side of the tree stood great statues of the Gods, of Odin and Thor and Loki, kneeling and reaching for the tree. 

     Dean stopped before the tree, eyes never leaving it as he too knelt before it, much in the same manner as the Gods though never as close. At his knees, a river flowed through the temple from side to side, winding through the roots of the tree of the Gods. The river sparkled crystal clear before Dean even in the dim light of the temple. The Gods never ceased to amaze him in all that they were capable of. 

     He sat for a few minutes, breathing and taking it all in, before he slowly raised his arms out to his side's and tilted his head back. "My Gods, Odin, Thor, Loki, I beg of you to answer my call," he whispered to the skies, eyes closed tight in desperation, "I ask you to show me the way. My people are dying, starving in our dying lands, with no hope of a future if we stay. Please, show me how to lead my people away from death and toward a brighter future, please show me."

     He slowly bent over moving his arms towards the river. He touched his hands to the flowing stream, the cool water running steady between his fingers, before cupping his hands and gathering the water. 

     With the water settled in the nest of his hands he sat back on his heels again, tilted his head, and held the water above his face. He whispered once more, hoping as hard as he could that the Gods would hear him, "Show me the way," and let the water trickle out between his hands and land on his face. 

     Dean was only able to place his hands by his sides before his prayers were answered and the Gods took him over. His eyes shot open, rolled backwards, and he sucked in a deep breath as the last thing he felt was his body falling to the side but never hitting the floor as darkness took his vision. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     He woke in a land he knew not of. Rolling hills covered the horizon beyond beautiful, full fields, the crops as tall as a young child. The rising sun came this time from beyond the hills, the sea behind him, he had crossed the sea with his people. The Gods had listened, had heard his prayers, and were showing him the life they would have if he took the path Sam had seen in his dream.

     He turned away from the sea to look back over their new lands. Paddocks filled with healthy, strong livestock, his people happy, children playing, laughing. For the first time since he took the rule of Nazareth from his father he found himself smiling, actually feeling joyous and happy, relieved. It was a blessing from the Gods themselves. 

     He tilted his head back to take in the warmth of the sun on his skin, to listen to the sounds of his thriving people around him, and then a child. The young boy ran towards him, arms out for Dean. He lifted the boy above his head and twirled him once before holding the boy close to his chest, blowing a playful kiss on his cheek as the boy's laughter filled Dean's heart. He continued giggling as Dean tickled his side's, squirming in his arms as he wrapped his little arms around Dean's neck, "Daddy!"

     "Daddy…" Dean thought as he watched another child, and another child, and another, all running towards him, same as the first young boy. Jumping at him as they all laughed. He threw each of them in the air one by one, kissing each of them as he did, listening to their laughter mingle with his own. A sound he felt he hadn't heard in a very long time. 

     Then the first young boy turned from Dean and ran towards someone else. He looked up and followed the boy as he ran, holding his arms out to someone, and laughing as he was once again lifted into the air and held against another's chest. He was given another kiss on the cheek, then he wrapped his arms around the kisser's neck in as tight an embrace as his little body could give and said, "Papa!"

     “Papa?” Dean furrowed his brows and brought his eyes to finally rest on the face of the one holding the young boy. A man. A very beautiful man. Dark hair framed a sharp face, holding a smile so bright the Gods themselves would worship it. 

     The beautiful man looked down at his son in his arms… at their son. Then he lifted his gaze to look at Dean with piercing blue eyes, as captivating as the seas that Dean knew so well, seas that called to him as much as those blue eyes were, and the man smiled with all the brightness of the sun as his eyes landed on him. 

     "Dean," the man spoke in a voice as smooth as the winds around them. It pulled Dean in even further, his body reacting to this man in ways he never thought possible. The husk in his voice sent lightning through his veins, the lust and desire in his eyes as he looked at Dean had him frozen in place. 

     "Dean," he spoke again, one hand now reaching out towards him, "wake up, come to me."

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Dean woke with a shattering start on the temple floor. His body was covered in a cold sweat, his breathing ragged as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He sucked in shattered breaths and rolled to lean to one side as he tried to catch his breath and thought of what he had seen. What a vision the Gods had shown him, it was definitely a brighter future for his people, but was he really willing to uproot everyone? To take everyone away from everything they've ever known in Nazareth and plant them in a new and uncertain land? But if the Gods had shown him, then how could it go wrong?

     After a while of sitting on the floor and having finally caught his breath, he pushed himself up to his feet, but as he did a strange feeling on his left arm caught his attention. It wasn't pain, but rather a warmth wrapped around his upper arm, a feeling that had not been there before he arrived. 

     Curious, he slowly rolled his sleeve back and his breath hitched when he saw what now lay there. A scar, but not just any scar, it was a perfectly shaped hand print. There had been no injury, nor anyone else with him in the temple, not to mention it was completely healed. The only explanation Dean could think of was that it was a gift from the Gods, though why they had given it to him he did not know. 

     He remained in his place on the floor of the temple for a while longer, contemplating not only his new scar but all that the Gods had been so gracious as to show him. Maybe his brother was right, maybe their new lives did await them across the seas. Fertile fields filled with plentiful crops, thriving livestock, happiness, and that man. Never had he seen a more beautiful creature, never had he been so drawn in by anything more then the sea, but now blue eyes called his name even louder then the crashing waves ever had. 

     He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. The Gods had given him much to think about, and he could not make his decision based purely on the happiness that the Gods think this man could give him, and so his decision could not yet be made. He knew that he had one more thing to do, he must make the half days ride back to Nazareth and seek out the Seer. Once he had conversed with them and gained their own wisdom on the matter, only then would he make his final choice.”

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this! Let me know what you think, I adore reading your comments <3Also, fun fact. I actually did some research and Elskan, the name of Dean's horse is the Viking way of saying 'my love' or my darling' which was the closest to baby I could get. Since the horse is supposed to be the impala XD

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If any of you want to be tagged for future posts, let me know <3

[benditlikepress]

@parischangedher said

“yes hi so you know all those painful times when they’re like wE’rE NOt a COUplE i think i need to write the first time they actually say YES YES WE ARE THIS IS MY WIFE/HUSBAND”

to which I said

////

“I’ll catch up.”

Tony jogged back to the car as Ziva and Tali began to walk down the big hill that led down to the beach. They’d got 20 feet from the car before Tali had said she was cold in spite of her insistence she wouldn’t need a jacket, and as usual all it took was one smile at Tony for him to go and fetch her one.

The hill was fairly steep and in the wintry weather it was windy; Ziva found herself watching Tali’s steps as she climbed down though she seemed much more preoccupied with the ocean waiting for them at the bottom.

There was an old man stood with a small dog facing the water. Not exactly a surprise; the fact it was a dog-friendly beach was half the reason they came here, with dogs being Tali’s most recent and passionate interest.

It also shouldn’t have been a surprise, then, when Tali began to run down the hill and across the small stretch of sand towards the dog.

“Tali, come here. What did I tell you?”

“It’s OK, he’s friendly.”

Ziva turned at the voice to find an older woman sitting on a bench at the base of the hill, waving Tali on as she came to a screeching halt in front of the dog and bent down at the man’s feet.

“I’m sorry. We tell her again and again she has to ask before stroking a dog, it is as though she has no control over her hands.”

“It’s quite alright, we were all young once.”

Before Ziva could reply there was a shout from behind her, and she moved out of the way just in time for Tony to come careering down the hill past her.

“Idiot.” The word, tinged with affection as it was, earned her a grin over his shoulder as he continued running past her and towards Tali. She felt the old woman’s eyes on her as she smiled after him.

“That your husband?”

She found herself smiling further as she watched him scoop up Tali from behind without warning, lifting her in the air before putting her back down and rubbing his back in a way she was sure wasn’t for show.

“Yes.”

Ziva felt a strange pride as she gave confirmation. It was the first time someone had asked since they got married – when they worked together they would get the question all the time, and a part of her had been waiting for the first time she could tell someone. She supposed people assumed their relationship now rather than asking. After years of objecting to the question, she wished she heard it more often.

Feet planted back on the floor, Tali’s attention was back on the dog, and Ziva watched as it lay on its side for attention as Tony and the woman’s husband began a conversation.

“We have had dog questions non-stop for months. She is very insistent about getting one. We recently moved, and so I think now we will have no choice.”

“I heard your accent. Are you new to the States?”

“I am not from here originally, but we used to live here. My husband is American.”

There it was again, the funny feeling in her stomach at the acknowledgement. She wasn’t sure she’d ever said it before.

Ziva sat down on the bench, drawing her jacket tighter around her. Her eyes flickered back to him as they often did, now chasing Tali across the wet sand. His shoe got caught and he just about saved himself from falling flat on his face, hopping backwards to retrieve it as their daughter ran away laughing with her head thrown back.

“Newly married?”

“Yes, actually. How did you know?”

“You have the glow. Honeymoon period.”

“Oh, I am not sure about that. We have known each other for a very long time.”

“You love him very much, then. I used to look at Walter like that when we first met.”

“How long have you been married?”

“52 years this Spring.”

“You must have been very young.”

“That’s very flattering, dear, really. We weren’t so young, but when you know, you know.”

“That is very true.”

Ziva couldn’t help but think back to how young she was when she and Tony first met. How long they could’ve already been married by now, if things hadn’t turned out the way they did.

“Are you going to ask the secret? That’s what people usually do.”

“Is there one?”

“I think if you’re in love you don’t need any secrets. The two of you will be just fine.”

Ziva smiled as she felt the warmth in her stomach spread further, not sure what had inspired her to open up to a complete stranger sat on a bench in such a way.

When she directed her attention back to Tony and Tali she caught his eye, and she saw him signal something to Tali who immediately made a beeline for her.

“Did you say thank you?”

“Yes.” Tali stomped through the sand upon approach, holding a seashell in her hand that she presented Ziva with. It was light pink and cracked in one corner, lines of age and wear running down it.

“Thank you, sweetheart. It’s beautiful.”

“Daddy said we can get a dog just like Benjy.”

“He did, did he?”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.”

Tony came up behind her and Ziva couldn’t help but reach out a hand to pull him towards her. There was a happy little frown between his eyebrows as she pulled him down to kiss him, though his hands quickly came out to rest on her legs as though he was expecting something more than the peck he received.

“You ready to go?”

“Yes, let’s go. It was nice to meet you.” Ziva addressed the woman as she stood up, who was looking between the three of them and her husband and dog out towards the ocean.

“You too. Congratulations.”

Tony took her hand as they began to walk away and Ziva couldn’t help but flick her eyes back to the woman, watching them with contentment as they disappeared across the sand.

[myrandomfandomramblings]

Madarcher fanfic

Over 2 years ago I decided to write a fic to explain all the apparent inconsistences in 7x10, especially in regard to the stage of Madarcher’s relationship. It didn’t really work and I’m not a great writer but I did end up with a pretty cute (and longer than intended – 4776 wds) fic detailing my version of how Madarcher (mostly Robin) spent the ~24 hrs before the curse. Complete with skinny dipping, proposal planning, some fun ideas of past adventures and a flashback to their first kiss. So I hope you enjoy!

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The Sun was just setting in the Enchanted Forest 2.0 turning the sky brilliant hues of pink and orange as Robin and Alice emerged from a crack in the trunk of a giant redcedar.

“See I told you Ancient Amy’s wardrobe would take us back to our realm,” Alice said gesturing to the woods around them.

“Aha, but what you failed to mention was that ancient Amy was a 20 ft long purple dragon that lived in a volcanic crater.” Robin retorted “And that to get there we would have to walk across lava fields for 6 hrs in 100 oF weather” she added, absentmindedly touching her sunburnt cheeks.

“Did I?” Alice replied shrugging her shoulders, before both girls burst into laughter.

They both knew Robin wasn’t actually mad, she was just tired. They both were and after 6 months of crazy adventures throughout the realms they were both happy to be home.

“Well the good news is now all we have to do is follow the river then turn left at the bridge and we’ll be home in 20 minutes,” Alice said grabbing her girlfriend’s hand and pulling her through the trees towards the sound of rushing water.

As they walked the sound became louder and in no time they were standing at the edge of a small gorge. About 40 feet below a river snaked its way along the gorge’s base and steam rose off small rock pools beside it. A little further upstream a beautiful three-tier waterfall ended in a large pool.

“Race you to the bottom!” Alice exclaimed as she let go of Robin’s hand and began traversing the steep slope. Robin was right behind her, sliding between trees and rocks until her cloak got snagged on a rogue root. By the time she had untangled herself and got to the bottom of the gorge Alice was already swimming in the pool at the base of the waterfall and her clothes and bag were hung on a nearby willow tree. Robin’s eyes traced the lines of Alice’s body taking in the scrapes, bruises, and scars that were like a map to all of Alice’s adventures many of which Robin accompanied her on. Although they had known each other for almost 7 years and had been dating for 5, though dating seemed too insignificant a word to accurately describe there relationship, Robin was still amazed by how lucky she was to love and be loved by such a beautiful women, both inside and out.

“Are you going to join me or just stand there and stare?” Alice teased splashing some water in Robin’s direction and pulling her out of her reverie. Robin quickly discarded her clothes, hanging them beside Alice’s then joined her love in the pool. The water was cold but it felt good on Robin’s hot skin and sore muscles. As Robin swam around she watched as dirt and grim flaked off her body and diffused into the water around her. Alice swam over to her and uncorked what looked like a wine bottle “Some Greener Cleaner?” Alice asked tipping it towards Robin.

“Yes please” Robin replied cupping her hands in front of her. A bright green liquid trickled from the bottle as Alice poured it into Robin’s outstretched hands. “Thanks,” Robin said as she began lathering her hair with the colourful liquid. Alice meanwhile had poured some for herself and began doing the same. The Greener Cleaner had been a Christmas present from Zelena, a homemade potion that served as soap, shampoo, conditioner and lotion. It could be used in water or when you were completely dry and would vanish after being applied, leaving you sparkling clean and moisturized while having no impact on the environment. Once both girls’ had washed their hair they began rubbing the greener cleaner down their arms and legs and over the rest of their bodies, relishing the feeling of nearly a week of accumulated dirt being removed from their skin.

“Want some help?” Alice asked laughing at Robin who twisted and turned trying to reach her back.

“That would be great, Thanks Al,” Robin replied as she turned her back towards the blonde.

“My pleasure,” Alice answered playfully as she ran her hands over her girlfriend’s back and down to her butt. “How’s that” she whispered into Robin’s neck Robin let out a short moan as she leaned back into the shorter girl. “Now there’s just one more place you missed,” Alice said mischievously before collecting a finger full of green foam from Robin’s arm and depositing it on the tip of her nose.Robin spun around as Alice jumped back giggling.

“Oh I’ll get you for that,” Robin teased collecting two handfuls of green suds and holding them high for Alice to see

“Not if I get you first,” Alice countered lobbing another glob of green at Robin. And then the pool filled with flying green foam and infectious laughter that echoed off the walls of the gorge. When the foam suddenly disappeared water became the weapon of choice. The young lovers splashed each other and attempted to drag or tackle the other under the water even though they were already completely soaked. The battle only ended when both sides were completely out of breath and their sides too sore from laughing to continue.

By this time the sun had disappeared behind a hill and the sky had turned to grey effectively dropping the temperature several degrees. The water once refreshing now just felt like ice, to Robin, seeping into her veins and bones. And when she looked at Alice she noticed her teeth were chattering and her lips were starting to turn blue. “Should we warm up a bit?” Robin asked pointing slightly downstream to the steam curling off the surface of a series of small pools beside the river.Alice just nodded locking hands with Robin as they made there way out of the pool and past the willow tree their clothes were hung on.

“I’m just going to put the greener cleaner away and grab something from my bag,” Alice said shivering, “I’ll meet you there,” she added pointing to the hot pool.

“OK,” Robin replied begrudgingly untangling their hands. Robin slowly made her way to the hot pool, clambering over rocks and making sure not to trip. By the time she got there she was shivering violently but that subsided quickly once she submerged herself in the warm water. This pool was much smaller than the first, about the size of a large bathtub. Robin laid down, leaning against the wall of the small pool, and closed her eyes letting the warm water caress her tired, achy body. She only opened her eyes when she heard Alice coming towards her. Robin could only make out her silhouette as the light was quickly fading but it looked like she was carrying something in front of her.

As she got closer Robin could make out a tray that was topped with grapes, apples, a baguette, a block of cheese, a stick of cured meat and a jar of marmalade ,as well as, some plates and cutlery. She also noticed that their canteens were draped over Alice’s shoulder. “Dinner is served,” Alice said as she placed the tray and canteens by Robin’s head “I didn’t have time to cut anything though,” she added shyly.

“It’s perfect!” Robin beamed reaching up a hand to help Alice into the pool. Once Alice was comfortably seated in the hot spring beside Robin they started on the food. The crazy adventures of the day had pushed food out of Robin’s mind but now that it was right in front of her she realized just how hungry she was and it didn’t take long until all the food was gone.

“Well that was delicious, thanks Towergirl” Robin said as she sunk deeper into the pool.

“You’re welcome, Nobin,” Alice replied sinking down beside Robin and leaning her head on the archer’s shoulder, “and thanks for a great adventure, It was definitely one of my craziest, I mean we almost died 13 ½ times, assuming you count that thing with the panflute, but it was a lot of fun with you by my side,” Alice finished, a large smile spreading across her face as she closed her eyes and nestled in closer to Robin.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else,” Robin replied kissing her girlfriend’s forehead. And after that adventure she was surer than ever that she wanted to be by Alice’s side for the rest of her life.

Robin had been intrigued by the ‘girl in the tower’ since Nook first started telling her stories about his special daughter. When she first met Alice she was amazed by her beauty, tenacity and optimism and by the end of that first day, Robin knew Alice was someone special that she wanted to be part of her life. And as they got to know each other Robin’s feelings for Alice just continued to grow.  She had hidden them for a long time, using the delivery of Nook’s letters and anything else she could think of as an excuse to see Alice rather than admit the real reason she visited so often and risk loosing her best friend. Eventually, they had begun hanging out, just to enjoy each other’s company, no excuses necessary, but only in the context of best friends albeit with quite a lot of less than subtle flirting. Robin had debated telling Alice about how she felt at this point but between Alice’s frequent trips to other realms to run errands for Rumple or try to find a cure for her father and Robin’s own endeavours which regularly took her away from home she had decided the time apart would put to much strain on a new relationship. However, it was in these times apart that Robin realized just how much Alice meant to her. How much she missed her, longed for her and loved her. 

Looking back now Robin was pretty sure she had been in love with Alice since the day they met but just hadn’t realized it until then and realizing just how strong her feelings were had made Robin determined to tell Alice when she returned from her travels. Alice must have been thinking along similar lines because a couple weeks later, that day came. It was Alice’s birthday, exactly two years since the day they met. Alice having just returned from her latest trip had knocked on the door of Emerald Acres Farm then waited, nervously pacing in circles, ringing her hands and rehearsing a speech under her breath: “Robin, two years ago I met you, you turned a bad day into a good day, and when you told me to make a wish I wished to spend more days with you… No… No…” Alice mumbled shaking her head “I’ve been on a lot of amazing adventures but the best has been getting to know you or they’re always better with you?” she shook her head again clearly still not happy with her words, “… and the thing is… I guess what I’m trying to say… I just want to tell you… I love you,” Alice sighed and stilled, her wheels turning, trying to find the right words, she was so focused on her thoughts she had completely forgotten where she was. 

“I love you too,” came Robin’s voice from the doorway. Alice looked up in surprise. She was completely caught off guard having not heard the door open but when her gaze fell on Robin she immediately relaxed, a smile spreading across her face. The archer’s eyes were shining and a blush had covered her cheeks. 

“I missed you, Nobin,” Alice teased as she stepped closer to the woman she loved. “I missed you too, TowerGirl,” Robin said laughing as a tear slid down her cheek. Alice took another step closer reaching up to wipe away the tear and then they were in each other’s arms and they were kissing and everything else melted away.

They had begun dating after that, within 6 months Robin was spending most nights at Alice’s unless they were on an adventure, which they nearly always went on together. In another 6 months they had moved Robin’s last few belongings still at Emerald Green Acres to their little cabin in the woods making their co-habitation official. By that time Robin had known that Alice was her forever but she had just always figured that they would make it official when they were ready to settle down, when they were no longer jumping between realms every other day, when they had time to plan a wedding, when they were ready to raise a family. But perhaps most importantly when they found a cure for Nook’s cursed heart so he could walk Alice down the aisle. However, this last adventure had made Robin re-evaluate these assumptions. In those moments where it seemed they were about to die, before they narrowly escaped, she was reminded that tomorrow is never guaranteed so she decided she didn’t want to wait any longer to make their love and life together official and ask Alice to marry her.

“There was certainly something extra special about this adventure, some of the scariest and happiest moments of my life” Robin added reflecting on her musings.

“I definitely wouldn’t have been able to get all of the stuff for Rumple without you. I was thinking we should probably bring it all to him tomorrow morning, then we can go see my Papa in the afternoon and have dinner with your Mom. I’m sure they’ll both be very happy to see us,” Alice said, tilting her head up slightly to look at her girlfriend.

“That sounds nice” Robin replied. But she was already starting to formulate a plan of her own. There were three things Robin needed to do before she could propose to Alice. 1) Ask Nook for his blessing. This seemed pretty old fashioned to Robin. Alice was a grown, independent woman who was more than capable of making her own decisions with or without her father’s approval, but Robin knew how much Alice’s Papa meant to her and how much he treasured her happiness and wished he could be more involved in her life. So, she figured they would probably both appreciate her sharing the plan with him first. Plus, he was hundreds of years old, or at least the Hook in Storybrooke where she grew up was. She wasn’t actually sure if the same was true of Alice’s Papa, but if it was he would likely favour the more traditional route. 2) Tell her mom. Robin knew that Zelena would be less than impressed if she heard such exciting news second hand and she was also hoping her mom might act as a sounding board to help her brainstorm some ideas and workout the logistics. 3) Get a ring (obviously). And most importantly, to maintain the surprise, Robin had to do all this without Alice finding out.

Robin had got so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed that night had completely engulfed them. The sky above them was full of twinkling stars and a nearly full moon reflected off the nearby pool and provided enough light to softly illuminate their surroundings. The chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs filled the air accompanied by the occasional hoot from an owl somewhere deeper in the forest. The only other sounds Robin could hear were the running river and Alice’s slow, regular breathing as she slept soundly on Robin’s shoulder. Alice looked so peaceful and Robin hated to wake her, but she too was starting to nod off and was eager to get back to their cabin and sleep in their own bed. So, gently she nudged Alice awake and together they climbed out of the pool, collected the remnants of their dinner and retrieved their belongings from the willow. They each wrapped their cloaks around themselves like towels and crammed the rest of their belongings into Alice’s magical bag which had been gifted to her by Rumple and enchanted to fit anything without getting bigger or heavier. Then they walked in silence enjoying the smell of fresh forest air, the sound of nocturnal songs and the feeling of their hands intertwined together back to their little cabin where they swiftly threw on night gowns then climbed into bed and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Robin awoke the next morning to birds singing, just as the sun was beginning to rise. Beside her Alice was still fast asleep. As Robin watched her love’s chest steadily rise and fall, she began to plan her day. She wanted to get engaged as soon as possible. She didn’t want to wait any longer to commit to this amazing woman, to cement just how much Alice means to her. And she defiantly didn’t want to get whisked away on another dangerous adventure before she got the opportunity. Therefore, she had made up her mind. Today was the day to get all the logistics worked out so she could give Alice the super special proposal she deserved. The only problem was she had to come up with an excuse to be away from Alice, for the whole day.

Alice and Robin were rarely apart. When they were it was usually for no more than a few hours at a time. Their parents often joked about how they must be sick of each other, but they never were. Therefore, not only was it going to be hard to come up with a believable excuse but as Robin sat there watching Alice sleep the idea of being away from her all day was becoming less and less appealing. She knew that as soon as her girlfriend woke up and looked at her with those big blue eyes and grinned that dazzling smile Robin’s will power to leave would be all but vanished. So, determined to not be swayed Robin reached into the drawer of her bedside table to retrieve paper and a pen and began to compose a letter.

           To my love, Alice,

           I am sorry to leave you with only a note, but you looked so peaceful and after our last few months of adventure you definitely needed your rest, so I didn’t want to wake you. I had such a great time traveling the realms with you and I always enjoy spending time together, but I think after 6 months of being together 24/7 it would be good for both of us to have a little time to ourselves. Just one whole WHOLE day of not seeing each other. So, I’ve left to visit my mom then I will spend the rest of the day hunting and collecting food for us. You can take the items to Rumple and see your Papa or just enjoy your day. And I will meet you back here tomorrow at sunrise.

Robin reread the letter and it didn’t even convince herself. So, she continued to write.

I know this seems quite drastic, but I think it will be really good for us. So, please, please please, don’t try to find me. Under any circumstances. I will see you tomorrow at sunrise. NO SOONER, NO LATER.

All my love,

Robin

Robin reread it again. She didn’t like it. It was bossy and she worried even rude. And the explanation was lousy at best. However, she was at least convinced that it was persuasive and therefore it would ensure Alice heeded her directions and thus would provide her with the time and secrecy she needed. She was also certain she couldn’t come up with anything better. So, determinedly she got out of bed, got ready and headed to her Mom’s leaving Alice with a kiss on the forehead and the letter waiting for her on the table.

As Robin walked through the woods to her mother’s farm she began brainstorming ideas for her proposal. She could put the ring in a cupcake and surprise Alice on her Birthday: the anniversary of the day they met and two years later the day they started dating. But what if Alice swallowed the ring? Maybe not the best plan. She thought about trying to recreate the day they first met but being trapped in cages, chased by an angry mob of villagers and ultimately having to turn your first friend to stone didn’t seem very romantic. She considered planning something that involved their loved ones since family was so important to both girls but ultimately decided that between Nook’s cursed heart and Zelena’s flair for the dramatic that was just asking for disaster. She was just starting to think about something more lowkey like breakfast in bed (eating), followed by a hike (walking) to a nice picnic (more eating).  Afterall, Robin was a big fan of food. When she realized she could see Emerald Acres in the clearing ahead. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even realized how far she had come.

As Robin approached, she noticed her Mom was on the front porch, glaring at an object as she turned it over in her hands. Hearing Robin, Zelena looked up, a smile spread across her face and the item was quickly discarded into her pocket as she ran out the gate to hug her daughter. “I missed you too Mom,” Robin sighed as Zelena squished her in a bear hug. “How long have I been gone?”

As time moved differently in each realm this was always an important question to ask. One-time Alice and Robin had left right after breakfast, spent 5 weeks in Wonderland emptying Robin’s grandmother’s, the Queen of Heart’s, vault and returning all the hearts to their rightful owners, and were home in time for dinner the same day they left. While another time, they took a quick weekend trip to Oz to visit Ruby and Dorothy and when they returned, they had missed Christmas and both their parents’ birthdays.

“About 6 months,” Zelena replied, releasing Robin from her death grip.

“That’s about how long it was for us too.”

“Speaking of you two, is everything all right, where’s Alice,” Zelena questioned

“Everything’s fine Mom. Actually more than fine. That’s why I’m here alone, actually. I wanted to tell you that I’m going to ask Alice to marry me!”

“That’s fantastic” Zelena exclaimed as she smothered Robin into another hug. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy and I can see that Alice makes you happy.”

“She sure does,” Robin exhaled as she hugged her mom back.

“But for the record you don’t need an agenda to visit. You can come anytime simply to see the outstanding woman that birthed and raised you,” Zelena said releasing her daughter and stepping back to strike a pose.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Robin replied rolling her eyes, “But for know I could really use your help planning the proposal… ye of endless wisdom.”

“Of course. Where should we begin?” Zelena asked as she opened the front door and led Robin into the house.

Several hours of conversation covered the following. Summaries of what they had each been up to in the last 6 months. A number of overly extravagant proposal ideas from Zelena. Robin ultimately deciding to go with her more low-key idea from earlier and Zelena helping her pick the details to make it extra-special and coincidentally a lot less low-key. She decided on marmalade toast and tea for breakfast, Alice’s favourite. The hike idea got converted to a scavenger hunt to collect clues in the form of mementos and pictures from their time together. Each clue would have a letter on the back and when they are put in order would spell ‘Will you marry me?’ After all, Alice loves adventure and puzzles. Plus, this way their loved ones could be involved by each having a clue to give Alice. Robin wanted to spend the day with Alice and see all her reactions, so she was going to accompany her. She was going to present it as an anniversary/birthday present, early or belated. That was the thing about frequently being in different realms where time moved differently, you could pretty much celebrate anything whenever you wanted. The final clue would lead them to a picnic in a clearing where a board would be set up for Alice to organize the clues and reveal the hidden message and then they could star-gaze as a newly engaged couple. Once that plan was settled Robin casually mentioned needing to find a ring. Zelena responded to this by casually going outside and using her magic to pull up the biggest diamond Robin had ever seen, directly from Earth’s mantle. She then magicked it into a ring setting that she continued to change based on Robin’s feedback until Robin had the perfect ring for Alice. One last burst of green magic created a ring box which robin placed the ring inside before slipping it into her pocket. Years later in another realm Robin would find this box, ring still inside in the basement of Roni’s bar just in time for the curse to be broken.

Having completed tasks 2 and 3 on her list Robin set off to Nook’s but when she arrived, nobody was home. Although she had wanted to have everything ready for the proposal by the end of the day, during her conversation with her mom, she had realized her vision would take a little more time and planning. Therefore, she knew she would have another opportunity to talk to Nook. In fact, Robin was sure Alice would have a letter for her to take to Nook detailing their latest adventure in the next few days. 

It was routine that when they returned home from an adventure, the first day back Alice and Robin would visit Nook. Alice would stand several meters away from Nook behind a tree and yell an approximately 3-minute summary of their adventure. Any longer or closer and Nook’s life would become endangered by his poisoned heart so they would say their I love yous and good-byes and a few days later Robin would return with a letter from Alice to her Papa about their latest adventure in glorious detail. So confident in her plan, Robin returned to her mother’s.

As she approached emerald acres farm a figure outside the gate triggered her nerves which were still frayed from 6 months of dangerous adventuring. This resulted in Robin firing a warning shot at the perpetrator who Robin was relieved to realize was her aunt Regina. Regina was quick to play the how old are you now game, their way of dealing with the inter-realm time differences. Sometimes Regina guessed close like today, 23 when Robin was 25 and sometimes, she just chose outrageous numbers. Robin and Alice spent so much time in different realms and missed so many birthdays she would actually be surprised if Regina was able to guess right if she tried. Robin was less happy to hear Regina’s news, which immediately made her worry about Alice. Zelena and Regina still loved to tease not only her and Alice but also Henry and Ella about their ‘young love’. ‘A love so pure and powerful it consumes all your thoughts and prevents you from thinking about anything else, or rationally at all,’ they liked to say. Whenever Robin was daydreaming and not listening to her mom and aunt or talking exclusively about Alice, they would say she had a case of young love. Robin ignored their teasing. She was pretty sure Alice would be at Rumple’s and wanted to immediately run there. However, Regina assured her Nook was on his way to warn Rumple of the impending curse, so Robin agreed to stay and help stop it. This changed when Nook arrived with a letter for Robin from Alice detailing all of her visions for their future together. She had given everyone hugs goodbye and ran out the door as green magic braided her hair and her mother yelled, “You want to look your best for your girlfriend if it’s going to be the last time she sees you!” Robin continued to run as fast as she could all the way to Rumple’s and into Alice’s arms to see the love of her life one last time. Turns out it wasn’t the last time and she got to fall in love with the girl of her dreams all over again and this time she didn’t wait to pop the question.

--------------------------------------- The End ---------------------------------------

Note: Hook telling Robin stories about Alice before they met, a proposal involving a picnic and stargazing and Zelena using magic to braid Robin’s hair before she left to find Alice all came from different fanfics I read like 2 years ago and now can’t find again to credit. So if you wrote these thank-you for the inspiration. 

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [6]

Masterlistt

A/N: really quickly I just wanted to thank you all for the love and support on this fic. I’m so overwhelmed with all of the attention it got so far and I can’t tell you all how happy your likes and comments and reblogs have made me. I’ve just had the worst three months of my life and I haven’t been this happy in such a long time, so I just wanted to say thank you all so so so much for giving this dumb fic your time and affection it really means the world and more to me ❤️ I also just wanted to say that I’m not being ignorant or rude with not replying to people in the comments, this is a side blog of mine and thus tumblr won’t let me comment on this account - only as my main. Please know all of your comments have left huge smiles on my face time and time again and everyone who has requested to be on the taglist is on there. There’s a few accounts that won’t let me tag, so I am sorry to those individuals, I have tried my hardest to rectify the issue and I’ll continue to do so until it works.

Enough of my blabbering, let’s continue with your’s and Dracula’s journey❤️

~^*^~

You looked past Dracula’s face for a second, eyes locking with Zoe’s as she frowned. Her back was pressed against the wall, standing close to a man armed with a gun and the usual (stake and cross). Again, you found yourself in the glass box, sitting at the large desk with the vampire sitting opposite you. Today, he had been granted one wine glass of blood, which was sitting beside him. A gentleman and a wine glass went hand in hand, and you didn’t really mind the fluid that filled the glass.

“Must we proceed with such formalities?” Dracula sighed.

“Yes, Drac.” You rolled your eyes, focusing back on him.

“And why is that?”

“Because this is my job.” You crossed your legs as you sat, trying to get comfortable under the heat of his gaze, “now, today we’re going to talk.”

“As opposed to the sumo wrestling we did last time?”

“Funny.” You sneered, rolling your eyes, “I just want to know a little about you.”

“Ask me anything, darling, I’ll spill all my secrets to you.” He tenderly took the glass between his fingers and took a sip. He gasped, like he had been deprived of air and he was finally getting oxygen back into his system.

“I want to know, specifically, about blood. The last time we spoke here, we talked about the Demeter, remember?”

“How could I forget? It was in those moments you captivated me, [First].”

“Enough flirting, I’m trying to earn a living here.” You scolded.

“My bad, go on.” He licked his lips, deciding he wanted to create a little eye contact with you. His mind wandered back a week, to the second night he was ever allowed entrance to your humble abode. It was the most interesting affair.

~^*^~

You sat curled up on the sofa, as you did most evenings, watching the usual soaps when your door knocked. Instead of getting up to answer, you allowed it to open itself and a low “only me” rumbled to your ears. When your living room door opened, you peered over to see the familiar face of your vampire acquaintance. He took no time in strolling in and settling down into the plushness of your La Z Boy. Clearly he favoured that seat above all others in your home.

About ten minutes passed as he allowed you to watch the end of your soap, and when the credits began to roll, you stretched out on the sofa. Dracula eyed you, much to your obliviousness, and then spoke up.

“I’m glad to see you got my message. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Yes, I was meaning to ask about that. When did you get a phone?”

“Oh, it was a gift from my lawyer.” He told you nonchalantly.

“Your lawyer?” You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I helped start the law firm back before I even met Jonny, you see, so he told me he feels indebted to me. Bought me the phone to help me settle in and adjust to the new world.” He explained.

“Right. Well, should we go for a quick walk?”

“A walk-...” he cut himself off, “seems good...” his attention on you had all but disappeared as he watched the next show begin to start. A food show, showcasing all sorts of delicacies, “gracious, and to think back when I was a mere mortal all we had was over-boiled starches...”

“Yes, culinary has come far, hasn’t it?”

“Is that chocolate?” He ignored your question, “but it’s so expensive!”

“Actually, it’s extremely cheap now. Besides, why are you of all people worried about the fate of chocolate? You don’t even eat it.”

“Humans are always so greedy for the delicacies of life. I suppose such things as pineapples are common as well.”

“We can literally grow them here now.”

“Let’s walk.” He chirped, clearly irked at how society had decided to treat such magnificent things.

“Honeslty, though,” you spoke, “I’d kill for some melted chocolate and strawberries.” You threw the words over your shoulder as you walked to the door.

A soft “oh” came from your lips when you swung open your front door to find a heavy drizzle greeting you. You felt Dracula’s hand slide over your back and then the sound of material as he opened up your umbrella. He stepped out, nicely sheltered with nylon. He held his hand out for you to join him. Not thinking twice, you took his hand and found yourself pleasantly surprised when he linked his arm with yours.

You allowed him to lead you where he wanted, first nearing the river before deciding to walk parallel to it. Walking in silence, you listened to the gurgle of the river and the sweet birdsong up in the thick canopy of trees. It was nice to know that the birds were enjoying their break from the hot weather.

Dracula took you up the steep hill that lead towards the viaduct, and once at the beginning of the ginormous structure, turned left, away from it and further away from Whitby town. The cindertrack this way was not lit at all and you found yourself relying on sheer instinct and the man beside you. Your heart began to race a little, wondering why on Earth he was leading you down this dark path.

Below your feet was an odd mixture. The firmness and sharpness of small rocks and pebbles, and the sinking feeling of the drowned cindertrack that clung to the underside of your shoes. On more than one occasion, you found yourself slipping and had to cling on to the vampire for dear life.

How ironic.

A good chunk way down the track, where a holiday park was a little in front of you and positioned to the left of the track, Dracula stopped and turned to face you, keeping the umbrella perched high above you to prevent you from getting wet. Now your heart really began to run.

“No need to panic, I just want to talk.” He explained gently.

“What is it? Why did it have to be here of all places?” You grumbled.

“I’ve brought you here because it occurred to me that your neighbours liked to listen in. To save you any trouble, I thought we’d talk here where no one would hear. Well, I’ve brought you close to where there’s other humans, so that if you needed to scream, they’d hear and come running.” He spoke in a tone of seriousness, but once finished, broke out into a toothy and boyish grin

“You’re not funny. It’s dark and wet. What did you want to talk about?” You folded your arms.

“Your proposal last night. Your life, for someone else’s? Will you gift me with the information of this so called meal you wish to bestow on me as a token of your gratitude?”

You froze. In your delirium, you had promised Dracula another’s life for your own. Although you genuinely hated that person from the bottom of your heart, could you ever send such a cruel doom to them? How could you live the rest of your life knowing that you, and solely you, had caused their death? All over some teenage heartbreak? Their behaviour had lead to your drastic move, your enrolment in such a dangerous occupation, your distrust of anyone and everyone. Did that justify you sending a vampire to feast on them?

Then again, if you didn’t deliver, what would Dracula do to you? You would have lied to him and he had already spared you once before with a warning. Do not cross him again. Did you dare to defy him? Did you dare to retract your proposal? Even if you sent him to that person, there was never a guarantee that he’d let you be. He could always strike out. Were you willing to risk that?

“Yes... there’s somebody down south, in London to be exact. I... I think she’d suit your tastes very well...”

“I hope you’re not just sending me as a revenge plot [First]. I would hate to have completely misread you.” He continued to grin.

“Not... entirely...”

“Not entirely? You bad girl. And I thought you were afraid of me? Now you’re using me as a weapon? How cold of you, [First]... How very...” he grinned at you, a wretched grin that seemed to highlight the exact type of evil he was. It may have stayed on his face for a second, if that, but it was enough, “delightful.”

“Don’t get too excited, toothy. I don’t know exactly where she is.”

“Give me her name, darling. I will be able to find her. Hopefully she can live up to your promise.”

“You’ll really go?” You asked, genuinely surprised at his willingness.

“You trusted me with entrance to your home, as well as being utterly alone with you. I’d like to return the favour and believe your words, as well.”

“I see... well before I tell you, you must promise to come to the Foundation a week today. I promised Dr. Van Helsing I’d continue my study on you.”

“You have my word.” He bowed his head a little in sincerity.

“In that case, the person in London you’re looking for is Lucy Westenra.”

~^*^~

Dracula eyed you as you glared at him. Had he done something wrong? It took all but six seconds for him to realise just how badly he had zoned out. He wondered how long you had been speaking, how much of your words he had missed thinking about that evening.

“You didn’t hear a word of what I said, did you?” You inquired, tone laced with annoyance.

“Now, that’s not true, I heard that sentence.” He smirked with a familiar boyish charm.

“I asked you about blood. You told me that when you drink a person’s blood, you build your skills. Care to elaborate for me?”

“Of course. You see, I believe you call it DNA nowadays, but when it is consumed, due to my... superhuman abilities, I am able to absorb in sorts, the very DNA. I can acquire desirable attributes all by drinking blood.”

“And that’s why you chose your victims carefully aboard the Demeter?”

“Indeed. My goodness, you are a smart little lady once you get that brain working, aren’t you?” He leaned forwards, gaze boring into your eyes. He liked the way they sparkled with life, glistened with mortality. He wondered what you saw in his eyes.

“You’re the one telling me, I’m just piecing together things that I already know with the new information you’re giving me.” You shrugged.

You continued to talk to Dracula, writing down important notes on him as he spoke to you. His voice carried easily and as you were already too aware, was very pleasing to the ear. For a long time, you bantered back and forth as he gave you answers to the questions that you needed. He seemed very at ease with you. Every now and then, one of you would glance over at Zoe, who kept a strange look of discontent on her face.

You looked over at Zoe once more, who tapped her wrist to signal that your time was up. You alerted Dracula of this, and also informed him that he would need to stay in the Foundation until sundown.

“I do have one last question for you, though,” you whispered. Zoe did not need to hear this, “where have you been for the past week? Did you find... it.”

“Indeed I did.” He smirked.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but you ignored it and stalked out of the cell, leaving him alone. Zoe informed you as you left that she wished to speak with Dracula, and you were free to go. When you left that room, you collided into another familiar person.

Jack.

“Sorry, [First], I saw you coming but I guess I couldn’t stop in time.” He flushed a little.

“That’s alright.”

“Were you just in there with Count Dracula?” He inquired lowly. It was as if he was worried about the vampire hearing his words.

“I was getting information. Why?”

“Well... Dr. Van Helsing and myself... we’re a little worried about how close you’re getting to him...”

“Jack, it’s my job.” You glared lightly at him.

“I know that, but-“

“But nothing. If he wanted to kill me, rest assured I’d already be undead by now.”

“[First]-“ he began with an annoyed sigh, however you pushed past him and stalked away.

You decided not to go home, and instead found yourself sitting on a lonesome bench overlooking the harbour. Your eyes continued to wander towards the sight of the Abbey stood proudly on top of the cliffs. It was a very attractive town, Whitby. You could see why Dracula would want to become acquainted with it. It was picturesque and oozed with an old-fashioned aura only a small seaside town such as this could ever wish to. It was perfect in every way.

Sitting looking at the sight, you couldn’t help but think about Dracula’s visit to London. You wondered if he would return after today. He seemed to have forgotten you a little. He would occasionally send you a text (something that still made you laugh with the ridiculousness of it) but for the most part, he seemed very much preoccupied with London.

Had he already taken her life?

Had he really found her or was he bluffing to save face?

That night at around 11pm, when Dracula had still not come to visit you, you let your curiosity get the better of you. You only wished to know if she was still living. Maybe he hadn’t found her after all, and had travelled south again to continue searching for her. After all, London was a very big city.

Facebook was the obvious choice as you typed in her name. It came up straight away with the amount of mutual friends you shared. Her face was still as beautiful and youthful. Still as deceiving as her outward personality. She had begun to see an American boy, you noted, maybe a month or two ago, however, his own account seemed to be missing from her page. You knew why. Even if some men did know she was taken, they’d still happily bed her. You supposed she just liked the secrecy of this permanent man in her life. You scrolled down a little, looking through shared games and memories when one post struck you as odd.

‘Lucy Westenra is feeling... naughty 😈

[not usually into older guys, but.... ;)]’

So he had found her... and the fact that he had kept her alive made something odd stir in your stomach.

Two months passed without hearing a word from Dracula. You had begun work with Zoe and Jack - a secret project looking into the undead with the information Dracula had given you, along with ancient accounts found from the nunery Sister Agatha had been a part of. Although no undeads had been reported for a few decades, it was still worth a look into given the complexity of Dracula and the possibility of more dangerous creatures like him lurking out there.

Zoe was more than a little concerned at his disappearance. You chose to neglect to tell her that you had sent him to London to murder an old friend. She didn’t need to know that. And neither did Jack, considering his crush on Lucy had seemingly tripled in the time you had not spoken. You had to question his choices, in all honesty, considering how kind-hearted and tender Jack was and how... well, promiscuous and without inhibition Lucy was. They could not be more mismatched and you wondered if Jack knew this at all.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of his feelings towards her. It was more that you were disappointed. You would never confess that to him, though.

Whilst Dracula was gone, you were able to live your life somewhat normally again. You occasionally found yourself wondering over where he could be but other than that, your life returned to normal. You could sleep in peace, knowing that he was hours away from harming you. It was a nice break from the whirlwind friendship you had formed with him. Was it a friendship? Did you have any right to call him a friend? The thought made you feel ridiculous. What kind of person befriends a vampire?

You honeslty had no clue, but the way things had turned out, it seemed you hadn’t befriended him at all. He had disappeared. It made you a little disappointed - the realisation that he maybe wouldn’t come back. But it was most likely more unhealthy to loiter around a vampire than it was to not.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 7 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker

[maddywritesalot]

The Amusement Park

The Amusement Park

My sister and I slide into the parking spot in the middle of the lot for “’Muzement Pier.” We’ve been driving for seven hours. Just to spend an afternoon at the closest amusement park to our house. I can’t even remember the last time we visited one. It’s been close to a decade. 

“It felt like we were in that car forever.” My sister said as we got out of the two-door sedan.

“I blame the nonstop country music you forced me to listen to,” I stretched my back and legs while shutting the car door. 

“I said you could choose a song,” she said. 

“Yeah, one song. The entire seven hours we were in this cramped car, you let me choose only one song. Then it was country this, yeehaw that, howdy this, hold my beer, my dog ran away.” I rolled my eyes as I walked to the front of the car. I double-checked my ID, debit card, and my phone was in my pockets and stood next to her. 

“We need to take a picture for mom and dad.” She said and flipped us around so the rollercoasters were behind us. 

We showed our teeth and I held up a peace sign. She snapped the shot and sent it to our mom who responded with a thumbs up.

“Ok, what’s our first stop?” I ask walking toward the entrance.

“Probably the SooperDooperLooper, so we don’t have to do it later after we eat.” She said. 

“What makes you think we’ll have time to eat?” I gasp and look at her.

“It’s an amusement park. It’s fair food. We have to eat something or I will die.” She said, dramatic as always.

“I guess you have a point. Ok, the SooperDooperLooper, and then the Millennium Force.” I say.

“Sounds like a plan, and then funnel cake.” We nod our heads in agreement.

We make it through the ticket line, a nerdy teenager with a plain face mask, fogged-up glasses, and bad acne looks us up and down before he scans the tickets on our phones. 

We look at the vast courtyard in front of us. It’s a large patch of grass in the very middle of all the rollercoasters and games. There are people in their masks lounging and sunbathing to take a break from the adrenaline and money loss. There is shrubbery encasing the grassy patch with random florals plotted at symmetrical intervals. And two entrances and exits. It looks fairly serene. 

To our left is a section of thematic rollercoasters and carnival games. To our front is a large section of food trucks and a pavilion to eat under. To our right is another section of rollercoasters and carnival games, a different theme from the opposite side of the park. 

There are trees throughout the park. The largest being in the center of the green patch in front of the park entrance. The trees make the park look abandoned from the sky and the highway that it’s near. But it still gets a ton of business. It also looks very clean for being near the woods. 

My sister leads the way to the SooperDooperLooper and I follow. We stand in a line of ten people and chat about our next semester of college. I’m starting my junior year while she’s starting grad school to be a philosophy professor. 

We make it to the front of the line and watch the other passengers get on and take off at rocket speeds. The next car returns and no one is on it. 

“That’s weird. Do they drop off the other passengers at another platform?” I ask my sister.

“I guess we’ll find out.” She says as the gates open allowing us to get on.

We take a seat in the front row, my sister to my left. We secure the seatbelts and the shoulder bar comes down. The rules are read out aloud the speakers as other teen park workers check everyone’s belts and bars. They give the thumbs up and WHOOSH. We’re out. 

It starts by going super fast up a steep hill. And slows down. There’s only a couple of groups on the coaster behind us. But I can already hear the screams of excitement. We make it to the top and stay there for one… two… three… 

four… 

now it’s weird… 

five… 

six… 

seven… 

anytime now… 

eight… 

DROP

We’re sent to the decline, spinning spinning spinning spinning, I’m lightheaded, my stomach is in knots. 

We flatten out and then shoot up another, smaller, hill, and then fall again, sharper, my body is lifted off the seat. The anxiety of falling out of the rollercoaster comes full force until we’re jerked to our right and left and down again, spinning

Spinning

Spinning

And then my body slams against the shoulder bars as we screech to a stop. 

It is a different platform than where we began. It looks like we stopped at a completely different section of the park. I didn’t know that this would end here. 

Another teen worker comes around and undoes everyone’s safety latches and we’re free to exit to the left. 

I stumble as I try and gain my bearings again. My stomach is swirling and my head feels like it’s going to explode.

“That was exhilarating,” my sister says and heaves into the nearest trash can. I laugh but I can’t blame her, I feel like I’m about to hurl myself. 

“I don’t remember that rollercoaster doing that or ending somewhere completely different,” I say, still holding my stomach. 

“Yeah, me neither.” She admits. We walk around a twisted path formed by tall hedges that lead from the rollercoaster and back to the park. 

After what feels like 15 minutes we break out of the hedges and into the main part of the park. With the green patch directly in front of us. It’s like we just entered the park again. 

“Deja Vu?” My sister says and walks toward a large sign that says which coaster is where and then starts walk to the Millenium Force.  

We walk past a row of carnival games, some with superheroes stuffed toys as prizes and others had live fish for prizes. There was a family playing for fish, four children holding different colored plastic rings, and two adults throwing their own plastic rings. The smallest of the group held a fish that was won. 

As I walked by her, she looked up at me and smiled a big toothless grin and held the bag up at me, lightly shaking it. I smiled back and waved and then she dropped the bag and it popped on the pavement of the walkway. The girl screamed and grabbed for the small goldfish, accidentally squishing it with her hands. She screamed even louder. My smile dropped and I didn’t know what to do. I stared in horror at the little girl and the now-dead fish. 

My sister doesn’t look back, she’s been babbling about her boyfriend for the better half of our walk now and reaches behind her to grab my hand. She tugs me along and continues her story about how she went to a beach and her boyfriend and a few of his friends played a prank on her and her girlfriends. She didn’t witness what just happened. 

“You really didn’t see that little girl just now?” I ask her as I caught up to her.

“What little girl?” She asks and looks around. 

“The one screaming?” I look behind me and the family was gone, I guess they stopped having fun. “Nevermind,” I say and let her continue her story. 

We make it to the Millenium Force and stand in a seven-person line. My sister and I grew silent. I was still thinking about the little girl and the dead fish, that was so eerie. She was looking around, people watching. Easily her favorite past time. I noticed a younger couple in the front of the line, they were holding hands and talking very close together. They seemed sweet. Not in a disgusting way, but a “we’re young and in love” kind of way.

The next six people get in line, the lovers in the first seat. The take off at a snails pace, getting ready for the buildup of the ride.

We’re near the front, behind one large man dressed in dark clothing, he doesn’t turn around to look at us and make small talk. He just stands there quietly. Which is fine. I’m not too into talking to strangers. 

The ride is over before I knew it and the group of six get up, the lovers in the front looked angry with one another, the woman looks crestfallen, like she just found out her childhood dog died or maybe her heart was broken? The man doesn’t look any better. She reaches for his hand and he flinches back. Looking scared. The group exits the platform and the gates open for us to get on. The teen worker guides the first man into the left side of the first car and directs my sister to sit next to him. 

“I was hoping to sit by her?” I ask the worker and he said that two people have to sit in the front. I look behind me to see if anyone can trade her seats but there was no one else in line. Odd.

The man wasn’t very welcoming when my sister asked for him to trade seats with me. He ignored her and strapped himself in.

“Oh well.” I shrug my shoulders and get in the seat behind them. The worker directs me to sit in the seat behind the man, ‘the left side has to be the side that’s filled’ he said. Ok, that’s also odd, but I’m not a rollercoaster engineer. 

We get strapped in and wait a minute to see if there are any last-minute passengers. Nothing. He holds up his thumb and the rumble of the rollercoaster begins. The slow chug of car making it up the steep incline caused my anxiety to spike. But that’s the joy of riding rollercoasters. 

We make it to the top. And wait. 

We teeter on the edge, the wind is blowing our hair around like crazy, I should’ve braided it earlier. 

It seems like we’re stuck on the top of the rollercoaster. The man starts shifting in his seat. Squirming as if he’s uncomfortable. And then he lurches forward. Trying to make the coaster go. Nothing happens. He lurches again, more forcefully. 

“Come on!” he yells and lurches a final time. I hear a crack and then the coaster begins to shift forward and starts down the hill going super fast. We hit the bottom and go up a smaller hill reaching a corkscrew section. 

Around

Around

Around

Around

Stomach drops again

Around

Then we shoot up and down again, slamming to our left and into another tight corkscrew

Around

Around

Around

My head is spinning

Around

Around

The man puts his hands up, yelling ‘woohoos!’ and then we make a sharp turn to the right and drop down again and slow down until we’re chugging back up another steep incline. 

We make it to the top, the temperature dropped 10 degrees it seems. I collect goosebumps along the skin of my arms and legs. My sister looks back at me, wide-eyed. She’s scared too. 

We stalled on the top of the rollercoaster again. The man immediately starts lurching forward. 

I hear another crack and try not to think about what that could be from. He lurches again and there’s a pop and then the coaster slides backward where we came from. 

“I don’t think this is supposed to happen!” I yell toward my sister. She looks back again and grabs my hand. We scream, from adrenaline mixed with newfound fear. 

The man continues yelling his ‘woohoos!’ as if this is supposed to happen. We go backward through a corkscrew. 

Around

Around

I let go of my sister’s hand to hold my mouth closed 

Around

I’m going to vomit

Around

Around

I swallow the bile that’s collecting in my throat and tears prick my eyes, I close them tight. 

And then we stop. I open my eyes and we’re back on the original platform. I look around and there are about twenty people in line to get on. 

“What happened?” I asked my sister. 

“I have no clue. But we made it.” The seats release and we stand. My legs are numb and my throat burns. We stagger off of the ride and new people get on. 

“Do we say something? Was all of that supposed to happen?” I ask her. 

“I have no clue, but I’m not too sure I’m a fan of this ride.” She grabs my hand and steers me to the exit of the platform. 

We walk another windy path of tall hedges. The man is walking a couple feet in front of us. 

“Sir, did you find anything weird about that back there?” I ask him. He stops and slowly turns his upper body, his head is covered in thick dark hair. He makes eye contact with me and a mischievous smile creeps onto his face. He winks and starts stalking back down the path. 

“What was his deal?” My sister whispers to me. 

“I have no clue. Can we get something to eat now?” I ask. 

“Duh, it’s time.” We make it to the end of the path and it leads to the front of the park again. Just like how we entered. The green patch with the large tree in front. 

We walk around the green patch and straight toward the food truck. There’s 10 give or take one or two. We go to one that has funnel cakes and fried Oreos and then another with soft pretzels. My sister and I grab our food and head under the big green pavilion. There aren’t as many people here as I was expecting so we easily find a picnic table and start chowing down. 

My sister and I talk about college again, what we hope this year will bring us, and what we want to do with our futures. We also discuss her getting engaged, which ‘should be any day now.’ She and her boyfriend have been together since high school. Her boyfriend followed her to her college and got a business degree and is working for his father while she finishes grad school. They are the ultimate couple. 

We pack up our trash and throw it out. We head to the other section of rollercoasters and walk past more carnival games. As we walk I see a family playing a game. 

Four kids are holding different colored plastic rings, waiting their turn to play while two adults throw their own plastic rings. The smallest of the group is holding a fish in a bag. She looks so happy. Why does this seem familiar? I walk past the girl and she holds the bag up, shaking it lightly and beaming with all of her heart. The bag falls to the ground and it pops with a wet “sploosh” the girl falls to her knees and cries, picking up the fish and squeezing a bit too hard. She cries harder, screaming bloody murder as she drops the now-dead fish on the pavement. I look on in horror as an older boy consoles her. 

My sister grabs my arm and continues her story about what she wishes her engagement to be. 

“You seriously didn’t see that?” I ask her, pulling my arm from her hand.

“See what?” She asks and looks around.

“The kid, again. The kid dropped the fish and killed it. How could you miss that. There’s no one else here?” I ask, hysteria making a small cameo in my voice.

“Sis, I don’t see anyone at all. Not a little girl in sight.” I look behind us again and I don’t see the family. Again. They just disappeared. There isn’t even a worker manning the game booth. 

“What..” I stop walking and look around some more. There’s no one else in sight. 

No one is manning any games, I don’t hear any walking, talking, laughing. It’s just me and my sister. 

I get closer to a booth and look at the toys. They all have malevolent faces on them. Angry. Violent. There’s even what looks to be blood on some of them. 

I walk to a different one and there’s broken glass on the inside of the booth. The toys look shredded. I walk across the way and stop. The booths look destroyed. There’s broken glass everywhere. 

I turn and call for my sister but she doesn’t answer. She’s laying a few feet in front of me. Facedown. Her clothes are dirty with splotches of red on them. 

I walk toward her, I call her name again. No answer.

I turn again and a wave of nausea passes over me, I get lightheaded and fall down on my hands and knees and heave. Nothing comes up but broken glass and blood. My stomach turns again. I collapse onto the pavement and close my eyes. 

When I open them again I’m back in my sister’s car. Except the world is upside down. I look to my left and see her, her arms are sticking above her, toward the roof of the car. The seatbelt keeping her in her seat. 

I call her name again, but nothing comes out except slow viscous streams of blood. 

Tears prick my eyes again. I start to panic, I can’t breathe around the blood in my mouth, so I try to breathe through my nose and look down to where my seatbelt latch is. My door is caved in on my right side. It’s pinching my leg. I can’t feel it. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. 

I try and undo my seatbelt. It’s not budging because of the weight. 

I use my left leg and my arms to push myself up and then I undo the belt. I fall onto the roof of the car. I can feel my right leg now. I feel warm. My fingertips are freezing though and my stomach and chest feel bruised. 

I sit up and reach for my sister. Her eyes are open when I push her hair back. There’s a large crack in her forehead near her hairline and a steady stream of blood leaking from it. I gagged and try to leave through the broken windshield but my leg is caught. 

I pull and pull and hear something tear and feel something pop. It doesn’t hurt enough to stop. So I pull again and I’m free. My shorts were ripped by the door and my leg feels funny but I can move it. I crawl through the glass and out into the open. 

There are multiple cars in a haphazard pile and disarray across the five lanes of the highway. I see ambulances and police cars blocking other cars. I start to make my way toward them. I pass a motorcycle laying sideways, the supposed rider was laying a couple of feet from it, lying on his back. He had dark clothes on, even darker patches of what I’m assuming is blood spotted his attired. He had long dark hair. He looked familiar. 

I stumble past a semi on its side, I can’t see the driver. I continue on, trying to breathe evenly so I don’t go into shock. There’s a flipped over minivan on my right, I fall into the drivers’ side front wheel and catch my breath. I see an arm of a little kid sticking out from the backseat window. I try not to gag as I look at a single goldfish lying dead inches from the hands grasp. 

I stumble ahead and hear some commotion now, people yelling to get back. That’s when I smell it. I look around and see a wet trail on the road I’m walking on. I follow it toward another car and then I see the spark. And then searing heat and my vision goes white.

[my-gear-expert]

Finding the Right Pair of Hunting Boots for the Perfect Hunt

The right pair of hunting boots is a must for any avid hunter. It should be something that provides comfort, stability, and durability while maintaining a stylish look. It must ensure utmost safety when you need to walk in all sorts of conditions. However, if you're new to this hunter lifestyle, there can be some confusion when buying your first set. Which style should you choose? What are some tips on finding a good fit? We have answers.  

How To Pick The Right Pair Of Hunting Boots?  

Make sure they fit properly

Hunting boots are designed to be tight around the ankle because it provides more stability while walking in difficult terrain. If they're too loose or too tight, then they won't work well for what you need them for. You want a boot that will keep your feet warm and dry. It should come with good traction for slippery surfaces. It needs to be comfortable enough to wear all day long. 

Durability 

You want a durable boot that will last through all the weather conditions, so it's important to know what materials are used in the construction. There are three main types of materials - leather, synthetic, or fabric - and each has its pros and cons.

Leather boots have been around for centuries because they're tough as nails but also breathable and lightweight. They'll stand up to rain or shine without getting soaked through like fabric boots would be. Synthetic boots are great if you need something waterproof but don't want to deal with leather's natural smell over time. Fabric is suitable for those who might not wear their hunting boots every day since they can get wet from sweat or rain without being ruined by water damage like other material options can be after just one use. 

Choose waterproofing wisely 

Waterproofing is essential if you live in an area where rain is common or if there's snow on the ground during hunting season. You don't want your feet to get wet when you're out in the woods or on a hunt. Therefore, make sure that the hunting boots you choose must be waterproof. 

Look at comfort features

You want your feet to be comfortable and supported while you're on the hunt. Ensure that the hunting boots have good arch support, cushioning around the heel and toe area, and a flexible sole that will give with every step. Also, consider the fit. Make sure they don't pinch or rub anywhere. 

Think about style

What type of terrain do you hunt in most often? If it's mostly flat ground, a boot with more ankle support may be best for you. If there are lots of hills or mountains where you hunt, boots with less ankle support will work better because they won't restrict your movement when climbing steep slopes.

The Bottom Line 

The right pair of hunting boots can make or break your hunt. These tips will help you find the perfect boot for your needs. You want to be comfortable, stay dry, and have a good grip on slippery terrain. And most importantly, you want them to last through all those long hours in the field. 

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[witchesoz]

What we know of Oz: Book 1, Good Ol’ South

We did the East, we did the West, as well as bits of the North… Next direction is of course the South! And I will begin immediately with its Witch, for once. # Glinda. The Witch of the South, or the Good Witch of the South. 

The heroes decide to go see her after the Wizard fails to carry away Dorothy with him. Even though at first they don’t think about her – for Dorothy it is understandable given that she only heard her name mentioned briefly at the beginning of her adventure. The Scarecrow can’t possibly know her. As for the Lion and the Tin Woodman, it is unknown why they don’t think of her… the Tin Woodman in particular knows very well about the Wicked Witch of the West, and that since the beginning of the adventure. She is probably not the most well-known public figure in Oz at the time… Anyway, it is the soldier with a green beard in the Emerald City that informs them of her existence. He mentions that she can help because she is “the most powerful of all Witches”. He also mentions that she rules over the Quadlings (clearly, she is the queen of the South) and that she lives in a castle built at the edge of the desert (which leads him to assume that she may know a way to cross it). And when asked if Glinda is good, interestingly the soldier doesn’t answer right away, he merely says that the Quadlings “think” she is good, and that she is kind to everyone. So he doesn’t say that she is a Good witch, but that she apparently looks like one (even though we know that she is a Good Witch thanks to the Witch of the North description of her). He also adds that Glinda is a beautiful woman that looks young, but in reality is old if not ancient, and that she merely knows how to “keep young despite the many years she has lived”. Once they arrive in the Quadling Country, our heroes go to the castle of Glinda, located at the most southern part of the country. Her castle is said to be very beautiful, and guarded by “three young girls in handsome red uniforms trimmed with gold braids”. Glinda herself is found in a big throne room, sitting on a throne of rubies. She is described, as said previously, “both beautiful and young”. Her hair is a rich red in color, falling in flowing ringlets over her shoulders. Her eyes are blue and kind, and her dress is pure white (because remember, white is the color of the Witches). Glinda is indeed kind and benevolent, making sure that Dorothy’s companions go home, revealing to Dorothy that her shoes are her ticket back (Glinda seems to have the most knowledge about magic, along with the Wicked Witch of the West), and even kissing gently Dorothy upon first meeting her. However, when you look at her dialogue with adult eyes, you realize that Glinda is actually deeply ironic. Snarky one would say nowadays. She keeps making subtle jokes. Speaking of the Scarecrow she says that “It would be a shame to deprive the Emerald City of such a wonderful ruler” and when he asks if he is really wonderful, she says “You are unusual” ; and to the Tin Woodman she says “You are brighter than him (when polished)”. Small jokes that fly over the characters’ heads, but that are certainly not cruel or wicked. But yeah, Glinda apparently always dreamed secretly to be a stand-up comedian Xp # As for the South in itself… The land of the Quadlings, the red country, the South of Oz. Interestingly, the characters only take three days to arrive there, contrary to the longer travels they previously had (it was probably a way to shorten the book at this point, because this is actually their fourth travel). The soldier mentioned that the road to Glinda is very easy, it is a straight road to the South – but it is “full of dangers to the travelers”, which is the reason why none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City. It is quite weird given that the soldier previously said that he knew what the Quadlings thought of Glinda… maybe people from the Emerald City went to the South? Among these dangers on the road he mentions “wild beasts in the woods” and “a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country”. Of course, we will meet both. I personally think the land of the South begins at the episode of the “fighting trees”, because previously it was just the Emerald City territory, so I’ll begin here. The first obstacle our heroes meet is a thick wood with “no way around it” because it extends as far as can see, and when they try to enter it the trees actually move their branches – they bend down, twine around them and fling them back, tossing away whenever they try to pass. These are the trees that are remembered in Oz lore as “the fighting trees”. However, the Woodman manages to pass under one after cutting one of its branches – the tree “shakes as if in pain” but it can’t prevent anymore the heroes from passing underneath. Behind these fighting trees, the rest of the forest is actually absolutely normal. As a result they deduce that only the “first row” of trees can bend their branches like that, and that they were given wonderful powers to act as the “policemen” of the forest, keeping strangers out of it.

At the edge of this wood, they find the China Country. (As a small note, many people think that the episode of the China Country was added later, once the book was finished, due to how out of place it seems, and due to a slightly different writing style which really denotes this part). The China Country is a “stretch of country” with a floor as smooth, shining and white as the bottom of a big platter, and surrounded by a high wall of white china, smooth and higher than the heroes’ heads. This time the heroes could go around it, but they try not to, out of fear of losing their direction. This country is actually populated by people made of china, or precisely by the china figures used in “our” world as ornaments and decorations – small china houses in the brightest colors, china barns and animals, and even a china church, all populated by milkmaids, shepherdess, princesses, shepherds, princes and clowns. We actually know they are THE china figures we collect because, as a princess explains, whenever one of them leaves China Country, they lose the ability to speak and move and can only “stand around and look pretty”, ending up on mantels and cabinets, paralyzed but apparently alive (yeah, that’s creepy). It also shows that the China Country seems to be an enchanted place (or a cursed one) giving them life. Due to being made of China  these people tend to be very fragile, and break easily (this is why they don’t like having non-china beings walk around us, and also probably why the wall was built – there is a strong sense of “secluded and protected communities” in the South of Oz). However they can be mended (there is a “mender’s shop” somewhere in town) but in general they dislike being mended because it is “not pretty”, and apparently being mended too much in the head leaves one “foolish”. We also know that to cross this country, one needs roughly an hour. Right on the other side of the China Country there is a “disagreeable country” filled with bog and marshes, and covered in a tall grass and thick underbrushes that actually hide muddy holes. Right after this country, solid ground comes back and we enter in another forest – with trees bigger and older than anything our heroes saw previously (which means the Munchkin forest and the Fighting trees one). Our characters think that the forest is gloomy and “wilder than ever”, all except the Lion that absolutely adores this forest, especially the softness of the dried leaves and the “richness and greenness” of the moss – this is the forest he will want to live in. This is actually the forest of the wild beasts the soldier mentioned before, and we see them in the middle of a council, terrified because a monster installed itself in the forest, devouring them. I will jump a bit the animal descriptions, keep them for another talk about animals in Oz, but I will stay a bit on this monster, probably of the same nature as the Kalidahs since animals don’t often refer to other beasts as abominations. This one is said to be a “tremendous monster, like a great spider, with a body as big as an elephant and eight legs as long as tree trunks” (note that while this monster is referred to as the “great spider”, in its description it is always said to be a monster “like” a great spider). Its body is covered in coarse black hair, it has a great mouth with sharp teeth a foot long, but its main weakness is its neck: between its head and its “pudgy” body (it has been noted that the beast feasted on numerous animals ever since its arrival, hence why it may look quite fat), its neck is actually as thin as a “wasp’s waist” and this is how the Lion kills it, but cutting off its head (while it sleeps). We also know that this beast arrived quite recently in the forest, so it is not some sort of ancient evil dwelling there for a long time. And, next to the forest, is the ultimate obstacle of the South: the hill of the Hammer-Heads. It is a steep hill, covered from top to bottom with hundreds of great pieces of rock, and behind each rock is hidden (or lives) a Hammer-Head, the “queer men” the soldier talked about. The Hammer-Heads are short and stout men, with big heads flat at the top supported by a thick neck full of wrinkles. No female is mentioned and they also lack arms. Their danger is that their neck can stretch out extremely fast, “as quick as lightning” and thus they can throw their heads flat-side first to hit people with a great strength and send them tumbling down the cliff. And they do that with “boisterous laugh” to anyone that tries to cross their hill because, as they say, “this hill belongs to us and we don’t allow anyone to cross it”. They are not even afraid of the Lion’s roar, which says a lot. The characters again don’t want to go around the hill out of fear of losing their way, and only can cross thanks to the Winged Monkeys intervention. # Now… a big question: what is exactly Quadling Country? This is a big one, especially in this book… In later Oz books, it is considered that each of the four regions make up all of Oz. Aka, everything in the West is Winkie Country, everything in the South is Quadling Country, everything in the East is Munchkin land… However in this book, while at first we believe that the fighting trees, china country and hammer-heads hill are all part of the Quadling Country, Dorothy and the narration keep repeating that the Quadling Country actually begins behind the Hammer-Heads hill, and that everything before that is not Quadling land but… something else. Which is quite interesting, especially when compared to the other regions: as soon as the heroes set out to the West they immediately entered the Winkie lands, and in the East, while the great forest is at first implied to be part of the Munchkin country, at the end of the travel there is a distinction made between the Munchkin land and the forest… So yes, you can either chose to consider that the South Land is indeed all of the South of Oz, but that the Quadlings Country is merely the most southern part where the Quadlings live proper, a region of the South Land, or you can consider the Quadling Country to be the name of all of the South of Oz. Anything is possible. The Quadling Country proper is described as beautiful, rich and happy, “field upon field of ripening grain, well-paved roads running between, pretty rippling brooks with strong bridges” (note that this is the only country with the mention of bridges, you can find them nowhere else in Oz). The favorite color of the Quadlings is red, and thus the fences, houses, bridges and clothes are all red, “bright against the yellow grain and the green grass”. The Quadlings themselves also appear mostly as farmers. Like the rest of Oz they are described as short and “good-natured”, but they also have a specific trait: they are all “fat” or “chubby”. (This lead to some artists interpreting the Ozian races as all having a different body type, the Munchkins being small, the Quadlings fat, the Winkies muscular, etc… an idea that I personally quite like). There also seems to be an explanation for the Quadlings’ fatness hidden in the text: when they are welcomed inside a Quadling house and share their supper, it is mentioned that the Quadling family serves the protagonists “three kinds of cakes and four kinds of cookies”: it seems that the Quadling diet involves a lot of desserts, candies, treats and other sugary things. No wonder they all end up with some extra-padding on their body...