#i am so excited by fanart i scream for 12 hours

[peccaberry]

Absolutely in love with this Achilles Come Down fanfiction fanart by my friend @volodei who is one of the Volo artists of all time easily. It's absolutely adorable and I'm gonna stick it in the fanfiction so everyone can see it because I plan on filling it up as much as possible with whatever art I can get. Go check out Volodei's blog and give a follow if you like this art! There's plenty more Volo over there to enjoy!

[a-hundred-jewels]

cruel summer ch 12: i have these lucid dreams

Ao3 Wattpad

Summary: sabrina starr, pegasuses, and oh no! the fourth wall broke! do we have a carpenter in the audience?

Word Count: 9000 ish

Tags: Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Jane Penderwick, Rosalind Penderwick/Tommy Geiger, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jane Penderwick, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Rosalind Penderwick, Skye Penderwick, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Martin Penderwick, Elizabeth "Batty" Penderwick, Elizabeth Penderwick (senior), Iantha Aaronson-Penderwick, Ben Aaronson-Penderwick, Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Annabeth Chase, Jeffrey Tifton-McGrath, Percy Jackson, Demeter (Percy Jackson), Apollo (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood AU, Demigods, demeter!elizabeth penderwick, demeter!rosalind (second generation), demeter!batty (second generation), apollo!alec mcgrath, apollo!jeffrey (second generation), demeter!jane (second generation), demeter!skye (second generation), all of that's in no particular order, main focus is on jane because i love her and she's so so fun to write, tomsalind is there (and stuff will happen - i can't really say what, it will really be eventful though), yes of course there's solangelo, takes place right before Penderwicks In Spring, After Trials of Apollo, more tags to come??, Minor Swearing

Notes and Full Chapter below cut:

Hello everyone and welcome back! I'll admit, this is a little later today than I'd been planning to post (was hoping to get an early start), but hey! If the Puppet History season 4 finale can be late, then so can I!

First off, a massive massive thank you to waterbottle_stickers for being the best beta reader ever. This chapter would be a mess without you. Also, if you haven't already, please check out their enola holmes fic wherever you stray, i follow it's truly wonderful.

If you've been following me on tumblr, then you'll know that, in addition to reblogging an alarming quantity of good omens fanart, I've been making some plans for fics this month. The original plan from back in august was to post every day of the month, but... ahhh.... I just don't work that fast lmao. I'll have to be content with just posting a fair amount this month. Happy october! Anyway, stay tuned.

On this fine day, we've got two lovely QUEER fanfic recommendations that I'm very excited to share. Up first is one from the tumblr blog izzielizzie (which you should all absolutely check out! especially if you're into the one of us is lying fandom!). it centers around the skye/melissa pairing and their senior prom, which Skye is said to have only gone to last minute, and also wearing a lab coat, in a passage of the penderwicks at last. featuring some oblivious lesbians and also jane. once again a massive thanks to izzielizzie, as this fic is one of my favourites!. click here to take a look! (also keep an eye on her blog in general bc her penderwicks fics are awesome!)

The second fanfic is also one I'm very fond of, as it focuses on the siblinghood of skye and jane, which is one of my favourite topics on earth. check out rolling down the ancient high street by hanchewie/ramblemadlyon (tumblr and ao3 respectively) for the sibling antics of aroace skye and bisexual jane when the latter visits the former at her college in california! and, if you like it, ramblemadlyon has two other penderwicks fics from the past couple days that look fantastic as well, and that I look forward to reading.

This chapter is dedicated to my therapist, since I've decided this will be the month of oddly specific dedications. thank you for telling me to stop referring to cruel summer as my "trash baby" and help me recognize the true worth that it holds in my life.

Disclaimer: not my characters, you know the drill. Jeanne Birdsall and Rick Riordan are lucky ducks indeed. chapter title is (obviously) from "lucid dreams" by Juice WRLD.

FROM THE POV OF JANE PENDERWICK

The woods loomed around me, seeming as tall as buildings as they invited me in further. I took another step, the sharp pain of a pinecone digging into my foot barely registered in my mind. I kept walking. A crack sounded throughout the air, and, behind me, a tree splintered round its base and fell down, only inches away from crushing me dead, and completely blocking the path out.

Frightened, I began to run, looking for a way out of the forest. But no matter which way I went, there were only trees in front of me. Where was the path? Where was the grassy hill I had walked down to get in here in the first place. Had I even walked down that hill to begin with? Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I remembered coming here. I wasn’t sure I remembered waking up this morning, or going to bed last night, or anything besides existing in the forest. Who was I? What was I doing here? How could I get out?

Panicking, I stood in the middle of a clearing, looking frantically at the trees around me, trying to find something familiar. Nothing. I was exhausted. How long had I been here? An hour? A day? A lifetime? I collapsed at the base of a tree, sobbing as I tried to remember. Something. Anything.

Then, a voice echoed around me. “Welcome,” it said, and my mind went black.

I bolt upright in bed, a scream halfway out of my throat. I clamp it back, not wanting to wake my cabinmates. Thin light whimpers through the window--enough for me to see my white-knuckle grip on the sheets, but not enough to pass as daylight.

What time is it?

Our cell phones don’t really work here--that was one of the first things Miranda told us when we arrived, and Batty’s been gleefully lording it over us that her Mp3 player will still play music and, like, function, while our smart phones recline sadly in our duffel bags. That being said, I don’t feel quite brave enough to get out of my bed just yet and tiptoe over to the big analog clock that Rio bought at a pawn shop in Colorado. Maybe my phone will at least show the time.

I reach under my bed and fumble for my duffel, hooking my pinky through the zipper loop and yanking it out onto my floor. My phone’s in the front pocket, buried under two pairs of headphones, several gum wrappers, and some strawberry leaves (?????). A piece of gum peels off the screen as I disentangle my phone, and I mentally chide my past self for being so messy.

My phone does not turn on. Big clock it is.

I tiptoe across the cold tile and peer around the tree.

5:45 .

Jesus Pagan Christ.

It’s too early to wake anyone up (as I think this, Batty lets out a snore to rival any crabby Tyrannosaurus Rex), so I wrap a blanket around myself like a criminally attractive burrito, and creep out onto the porch, with my notebook and pen tucked into my shirt.

As long as I live, I will never get tired of summer mornings. There’s something deeply lovely about the soft light of the still-sleepy, pink lemonade sun, the quiet anticipation of the cool air, damp from dew and preparing for the upcoming heat. At home in Cameron, Skye’s woken me up many an early morning to go for a run or do soccer drills or for a grueling “Seven Minute Workout Except You Don’t Follow The Rules And Torture Your Sister by Making It Actually A Forty-Nine Minute Workout.” (But it’s okay, I’m not bitter). But, as delightful as those experiences have all been, I don’t think Skye really gets it. The beauty of the summer morning is not what it can do for your workout schedule, but rather in its gentle softening of an otherwise boiling day. It is to be appreciated in the way that I am now, sitting curled up on this frighteningly creaky porch (I mean, seriously, who built this?) and calling up the Sabrina Starr section of my brain to try and write away the residual panic from my nightmare.

Sabrina sighed as the plane took off. She wasn’t sure if she should have followed the voice in her head telling her to come here. Saying it out loud--even just thinking it--made it sound ridiculous. A dream, a voice in her mind. Barely more than a whim.

Worse than that, Sabrina wasn’t even sure where this whim was taking her. On a napkin in her pocket, she’d scrawled everything she remembered about the dream from the night before. The dark sky, lit only with spiderwebs of lightning, the shadowy figure huddled on a beach and soaked through with rain. The voice crying for help.

And a name. Aeaea.

After she’d woken up, Sabrina had looked up Aeaea, too tired to fully connect why the name felt familiar. Her heart had sunk further after reading the Wikipedia entry, and a breath of hopelessness had left her lips. According to the internet, Aeaea was not a real place. It had been the island prison of Circe. Fiction wasn’t new to Sabrina, and neither was mythology (she recalled an adventure spent with a ghost called Rainbow from a few years back).

Fictional places, though, were another matter. How could she get somewhere if she didn’t know where she was going? Was she trusting her gut with too much this time?

Sabrina folded up the napkin and put it back in her pocket. There was no point in worrying about that now. She’d looked at enough maps to make a guess at where Aeaea might be if it was real. When she got there, she could get more information. Sabrina Starr had survived this long in her career of rescues and whims. She could survive one more adventure. Worst case scenario, she said to herself, I spend a few days running around for nothing and have to brush up on my Greek.

She repeated it to herself like a promise. Worst case scenario, worst case scenario… Eventually, tired out from all her anxieties, and from trying desperately not to worry about what would come next, Sabrina fell asleep.

FROM THE POV OF RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE

“Okay, I give up. Tell me what’s wrong.” Annabeth’s voice startles me away from my plate of eggs, which I had been pushing around with a fork. Anxiety bubbles in my throat, just as it had been since I woke up, and food just doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“I--what?”

Annabeth waves her hand impatiently. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I don’t think you’ve looked up once. Also you’re always hungry in the mornings, so unless you, like, ate an entire cow before I got here, this ,” she gestures to my uneaten eggs, “is unusual behaviour.”

I give her a look. Sometimes, I get the feeling that Annabeth exists as a part of multiple different dimensions at once, like she’s having four other conversations that I can’t hear, and is still ten steps ahead of me in the one I’m actually a part of.

Or maybe I’m just easy to read.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I don’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine.” I’m terrified.

Annabeth sighs. “Is this about the prophecy?”

“No,” I spear another piece of egg, and don’t eat it. “Maybe. Yes.” I feel like going back to my cave and staying there for the rest of my life. Waiting with a book and some paints for the prophecy to get bored and go away. Maybe I’d take Jane with me, or Nico, for some company. That sounds nice.

My plate is pulled away from me as I aim my fork again. “I can’t pay attention when you do that,” Annabeth huffs. I think I wouldn’t invite her to stay in my cave. She’s too on the nose when I want to mope. Then again, she says the same about me.

“Fine,” I turn and face her. “Let’s talk feelings.” Connor Stoll, who had been making his way towards our table, abruptly turns around and walks the other way. I should get Chiron to hire a therapist. Gods know we need it.

Further proving my point, Annabeth’s eyes widen a little, before she remembers it is I who will be spilling. (I make a point to corner her later. It’s a routine we have). “Wow. You broke fast.”

I nod. “I’m tired and you’re annoying.” (False. We both know it. Another routine). “Like you said, I’m nervous about the prophecy.”

Annabeth nods. “And?”

I frown. “What do you mean, and ? There’s no and.”

Annabeth frowns back at me. A mirror, a mime, an annoyance. The nerve to look disappointed in me. “I thought you were spilling, Red.”

I roll my head back and study the roof of the pavilion, which Annabeth designed, and slowly lean my head down to stare at the table. I really don’t want to have this conversation. I go along anyways. “I’m worried about Jane.”

Annabeth leans back, triumphant. “Ah, yes. Your girlfriend.”

Maybe if I try reeeeeeeally hard, I can activate the Oracle of Delphi and freak Annabeth out enough to make her go away. “ Not my girlfriend. You know that.”

“You called Percy my boyfriend for weeks before we actually officially decided.”

I wave my hand dissmissively. “That’s different, you guys were dancing around each other for like three years. You needed a bit of a push. Jane and I kissed once! Over a week ago! And nothing came of it.” We actually haven’t really talked about it. We’re in this sort of in-between zone where we spend a ton of time together, but don’t have a label for it. Honestly, it’s been nice.

Annabeth grins, apparently reading my thoughts. “You’ve been eating lunch with the Demeter cabin, like, every other day. I saw you doing archery together yesterday. Both of you were awful at it, but you stayed there for hours. I’ve never seen you focus on something that long outside of your paintings.”

I stare at the ceiling again. Maybe Annabeth designed it so that a single square foot of rock might fall down onto my head and relieve me from this conversation. “Yes, fine, we spend a lot of time together. But that doesn’t make us a couple, and has nothing to do with what I’m actually worried about!” I can see in her face that Annabeth is more serious now, and is about to fully listen to me, when Percy and Malcolm show up, sliding into the seats across from us, and clanging several plates of pancakes down onto the table in front of them.

“Made them ourselves! Wanna share?” Percy gives Annabeth heart eyes and a kiss on the cheek when she folds a large blue pancake into thirds and bites it like a burrito. I roll my eyes at them because they are a horrifying and disgusting couple and also I kind of want to be them when I grow up. Malcolm ignores them, instead turning to me. “Were you talking about Jane?” he asks, pushing wire rimmed glasses up his nose.

I frown. “Sort of. Why?”

He shrugs, sheepish. “You know. Just, uh, just wondering.”

I narrow my eyes at him, then Percy, who tears himself away from looking at Annabeth to sigh dramatically. “Malcolm wants to ask out Jane’s sister. You know, the blond one.”

I snort. “ Skye? Seriously?”

Malcolm looks vaguely offended. “What’s so weird about that?”

“Sorry, it’s not weird.” I reach over the table to pat him on the shoulder with my fork. “Perfectly normal teenage hormones.” He glares at me and I smile sweetly back. “I just can’t imagine Skye going out with anyone, that’s all.”

Malcolm stares down at his pancake, disappointed. “Oh. You sure?”

I nod, feeling a little more normal with my friends and less doom-related breakfast conversation. My eggs are past the threshold of “warm and appetizing” but I take a bite anyway. “Pretty sure. Jane told me that she’s aroace and, based on past occurrences, there’s a seventy percent chance she’ll punch anyone who asks her out. Anyway, why the interest? I didn’t know you guys talked.”

Malcolm shrugs. “We don’t, really. She just seems cool.”

Percy pipes in, “He’s been practically obsessed with her since she won that soccer game against the Nike kids and made them cry.”

I nod approvingly. “Well, Malcolm, at least we know you have good taste.”

Annabeth pats him on the head, ignoring his complaints that her hand is covered in blue maple syrup. “Better luck next time, brother of mine.”

Piper and Leo join us next, contributing an alarming volume of grapes and a single hardboiled egg to the breakfast display. Leo grabs a pancake and wraps it around some grapes, before taking a big bite. “I hear you’re discussing Malcolm’s romantic failures,” he says around the world’s worst breakfast burrito. Piper gasps in mock offense, then swallows the unpeeled hardboiled egg whole, like a snake. (This is a regular morning routine. She’s trying to work up to being a sword swallower, since her dad did it in a movie once and she thought it looked like fun). “ Malcolm, why didn’t you come to me? I could have given you a verdict within five minutes!”

“I wanted advice on whether I should ask out that Heaphestus boy two weeks ago and you told me to fuck off.”

Piper pouts at him. “That’s on you, you caught me at a bad time.”

Annabeth holds up a pancake with the air of a respected royal and we turn to her. “As delightful as this is, Rachel and I were initially talking about her romantic prospects and also her worries and fears, and I feel that we should get back to that before she slinks off and avoids the rest of the conversation.”

I glare at her. “Why would you bring this away from the very nice conversation we were having about everyone else’s problems? Do you hate me?” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass, I’m just not letting you walk away from a potential breakthrough. Now, where were we? You were saying that you’re worried about Jane but it has nothing whatsoever to do with your relationship, or lack thereof.”

I give a long suffering sigh, and try to communicate telepathically with Piper that she needs to Save Me Now, but she’s looking at me in interest with her chin resting in her hands, her long fingers adorned with rings sent to her from her Mortal girlfriend, Shel, who bought them at a vintage punk store. The traitor. Defeated, I turn back to Annabeth.

“It’s just that, whatever ends up happening with this prophecy, I don’t want it to fuck her up, in the way the quests have sometimes done to us. Like, we’re used to this by now, but it hasn’t been a smooth road. I don’t exactly like going on quests, and at first I was really worried at the prospect of being included in a prophecy, since that’s fairly abnormal, but Jane was only made aware of her heritage a couple months ago! What if this turns out like Silena or Beckendorf or-or Jason, and the prophecy destroys her, and it’s all my fault because I’m the one who pulled her into all this?”

Everyone tenses up at the mention of Jason, but they continue to look at me with a mixture of concern and love that makes something soften inside of me. For the hundredth time, I think of how lucky I am to have these people who love me unconditionally. Even if they really, really need therapy.

“I know that I didn’t plan any of this, but we’re both tied in now, especially since both Chiron and I had the prophetic dream and I actually gave the prophecy that day in the woods, and, well, this isn’t her world yet. She’s only got a little bit of ichor in her, and she grew up knowing nothing of any of this. In a way, I did too, and I have no ichor, but I had clear sight. For me, it was ineffable, but she could technically leave any time, if it weren’t for the prophecy. She can leave, and I feel like it’s up to me to make sure that doesn’t change.”

“Oh, Rachel.” Annabeth reaches her arms out to me and I let myself be pulled into an embrace. “Jane’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

Sabrina stood in line at the boat rental hut, her arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face. It had not been a successful afternoon. For hours, she’d been searching the coastal towns near where her plane landed, looking for some trace of Aeaea, or anything else she’d seen in her dream. She was used to working with dregs. It was normal for her to have to squint a little at the evidence, have to shuffle things together around big holes of “Maybe,” like she was working a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.

But this was something else.

Sabrina had read about places where mythology shaped the culture. Places where the tourist draws were events that had supposedly happened thousands of years ago, or creatures that only existed in grainy photographs and people’s imaginations. Hell, she’d met the Loch Ness monster. Was it insane for her to have assumed she’d be able to find the same kind of thing here? All her training and years of experience had told her that, if you sniff around long enough, you’ll find a conspiracy theorist or a slightly off-the-rails guidebook.

So far, though, Sabrina had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. She hunted around, searching up library catalogs, checking every store on the street. “Aeaea,” “Circe,” even “the Odyssey.”

Nothing.

The line edged along slowly, and Sabrina ran her hands up and down her arms. The air was chilly from its proximity to the cold sea water. There were three people in front of her now. She just had to wait a little longer, then she would have a boat and be able to explore these waters herself.

Something was wrong with this place. Something was wrong with all of these places. And Sabrina was going to figure out what.

Later, Jane and I are taking our time walking to the pegasus stables to watch the riding lesson that Rosalind has reluctantly agreed to let Batty take (provided that Percy, who’s teaching today, doesn’t let her fly high enough that she’ll die if she falls off, and that Batty wears all of the necessary protective gear). Jane looks lovely, wearing a sunshine-y yellow bandana that sets off her dark curls and warm sepia skin. She has on her Camp Half-Blood shirt again, and a short green skirt, and all of it should clash horribly, but it doesn’t.

We’ve decided to cut through the strawberry fields, and I swallow a sun-warmed strawberry while Jane tells me about the dream she had last night. I think back to my conversation with Annabeth this morning when she tells me of the dark woods and the feeling of drowning, the memory warping and the echoing voice. At some point we sit down in a patch of grass, a simple circle amidst strawberry plants with a couple logs where the campers and satyrs take their breaks when they work here. Jane finishes her story and we sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, only broken by the grunts of annoyance Jane makes while trying to get her plant powers to activate again. She’s been doing that a lot.

“Well that sucks,” I say finally. “Have you been having other dreams like it?”

Jane shrugs, the neon orange fabric of her shirt wrinkling on her shoulders. “One or two, I think. Last night’s was the first one I really remembered. ” She smiles out of the corner of her mouth. “I hardly ever remember my dreams. It used to upset me. I thought I was losing potential writing material.”

I laugh. It’s such a Jane thing to think, that I can’t help it. She goes quiet, like she’s reminiscing, and I picture a tiny version of Jane, sitting crossed-legged on her summer quilt, writing. I look at her now, scrunched up nose and big brown eyes. Oh gods, she must have been an adorable child.

“My mother used to say that my imagination was the eighth wonder of the world,” Jane says. She’s looking down the hill at the cabins, plant powers temporarily forgotten, and I remember her telling me about her mother, the first Elizabeth Penderwick, who came here and was a daughter of Demeter and loved opera. The Penderwick siblings’ beloved mother who died so young.

I move closer to Jane on the log. “I can understand why she’d say that.”

Jane smiles again, a little sad this time, a little absent, but full to the brim with love.

“Bet you she’s in Elysium,” I say softly. I explained the Underworld to Jane a couple weeks ago, and she’d gotten this same absent look on her face, that I now know means she’s thinking about her mother. Jane nods, now, then turns to me. “Could we talk about something else?” Her voice is quiet, her eyes a little shiny.

“Course,” I say. “Shall I regale you with tales of dimwittery at this camp in the years past?” I told her last week about the time some Hermes kids tried to order pizza to the camp, accidently causing Chiron to think we were under attack. Jane had nearly fallen off the bench laughing.

She grins now, but shakes her head. “Tell me what it’s like being an Oracle.” I give her a look. She’s asked me before and I never really know what to say. When I give prophecies, it’s like I black out. I’m taken over by another entity who shares my body. (“Like that lady in Suicide Squad ,” Leo had said when I tried to explain it to him once, but I’d refused to be compared to such a gods-fucking-awful movie). So, in a way, I don’t know what it’s like to be the Oracle.

As if reading my thoughts, Jane shakes her head. “Not that part. I’ve seen you all green and smokey, and I know you can’t feel it. I mean the other stuff. How did you know it was you? What did you have to do to become the Oracle? That kind of thing.” I relax a little. Jane’s asked me all sorts of weird questions about Greek mythology and the gods recently. She calls it “research for her book,” but sometimes I think she’s just nosy. It’s cute.

Jane shrugs and looks off into the distance. If you tilt your head a little you can kind of see the stables from here. We have fifteen more minutes to get there, according to my watch. I decide to take it easy. “Delphi is this weird ethereal spirit,” Jane continues, “but there’s also just everyday, Oracle you, who likes paint and denim and bagels.” At that, I laugh. “I actually don’t like bagels that much. I’m just late to breakfast so often that they’re usually the only things available.”

Jane pouts at me and plays with the bracelet tied around my wrist--the one she gave me. “You know what I mean! You know all this weird shit about me because my siblings don’t shut up at lunch, and I know stuff about you, like the denim thing, which I still think is funny by the way. But you’re also the freaking Oracle! Your dormant self lies waiting!” I laugh at her, and she rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth tilting up. “Rachel, that’s very cool!”

I give in. “Honestly, there’s not much to say, that’s why I don’t talk about it.” I pause. “Well no, it’s that a lot of the stuff beyond the obvious is actually sort of creepy and weird, and not in a good way. There’s stuff I try not to think about, is what I mean.”

The edge of her yellow bandana sticks up as Jane tilts her head at me. “That makes sense. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head. “No, it feels okay right now.” I mean it. Now that I’ve gotten into the swing of it, I do want to talk about it. Still, a small sigh escapes me. “I like being the Oracle, because that’s what brought me to a place where I feel like I belong and I have people who love me. It’s nice to know that I’m fulfilling my purpose in life.”

Jane pulls her knees up to her chest. “But?”

“But I also get lonely.” It comes out in a rush. “There are other oracles, but I didn’t know about any of them until the Apollo thing happened, and even then, they’re all supernatural beings--I know, I know, but not in the way I am. It’s not the same. Also, there are all these weird rules. Like I have to stay an unmarried virgin my whole life.”

“That’s fucked,” Jane says softly.

“I know! Chiron won’t even tell me why, just that it’s ‘the rules’” I let out an annoyed huff. “And, like, it’s not even that the idea itself bothers me. That’s pretty much what I was planning to do with my life anyway.”

“Same.”

“But it’s the principle of the thing!” I flick a strand of hair out of my face, offhandedly noticing that the tip of my pinky finger is slightly green. I ignore it. It’s not important. “Just because I don’t want to have sex or get married doesn’t mean it’s a fair rule to impose on me! Besides, why is it always the women in these things whose identities are tied up in who they do or don’t fuck? Last I checked, Grover didn’t have to sign an ‘I shalt not fornicate’ contract when he became Lord of the Wild!”

“Exactly!” Jane raises her hands and shouts up to the sky. “Don’t you fuckers realize we’re more than that?”

“The Hunters of Artemis, too!” I’m a jack-in-the-box, and something’s winding me up. “Thalia and Reyna send me letters all the time, and they seem really happy! Which is great!” I pause to emphasize the greatness of their happiness. My pinky is completely green, now. “But, they also had to make a stupid ‘ode of chastity,’ like I did!”

“Are you kidding me?” Jane’s hair flips as she turns to me. “I thought Artemis was one of the good ones!”

My voice lowers to a husky rumble, and I stare into the distance towards you, the reader. “In a broken system, there are no good ones. Abolish the police.” I clear my throat and my voice turns back to normal. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” My green pinky has begun to vibrate.

“Happens to the best of us,” Jane’s voice is light and nonchalant. “And yeah, I know. Pretty much all of the gods have skeletons sitting on their shoulders, but it just seems out of character for her. I thought all of Artemis’s groups were supposed to be safe havens, not oppressive structures in their own right.”

I frown. “Yeah you’re right, that is weird. I’d never thought of it much beyond the gods having weird rules, but I wonder if something bigger is at play. The gods might be fucked up in the way that regular people are, and are undoubtedly responsible for all sorts of crap. But then there's more personal things, like the ‘chastity vows’ the Hunters and I had to take, and the fact that Nico was initially outed by Eros, and the weird unexplained eye condition that Piper had during some of her quests that made her eyes a bunch of bright, Eurocentric colors, rather than their natural brown. All sorts of other stuff, too.”

“Wow!” Jane says, sitting up straight on the grass. Her hand moves from where it was resting in her lap to cover her heart. “It’s almost like a bunch of genuinely good and inspiring material, such as including prominent queer people and characters of color in fun children’s fantasy, as well as having an immortal group of warrior women who support each other and are free from the gaze of men, was taken into the hands of a cis white man armed with unchecked misogyny and a fair amount of white Twitter feminism, both of which really showed when he tried to create an inclusive and empowering book series for children! Like yeah, it had its moments, and definitely some good characters, but overall, a lack of meaningful research in certain areas really made it fall flat!” Once again, I stare through the bindings of URLs and internet coding, now joined by Jane as we lock eyes with you, the reader. This time, we hold eye contact for nearly a minute, giving you time to read and process the long tangent spat out by this fanfic’s author, who, if we’re being honest, has gone just a tad off the rails right now. Finally, Jane and I look away from you, and resume our roles as fictional characters, still shaking off that strange cloud that comes with staring into the soul of those who give you life.

“Ugh, what’s going on with me today?” Jane groans at the same time I mutter, “What’s Twitter?” We turn to each other, blinking in the sunlight, then grin. This is normal. We’re fine. Jane looks up at the sky again. “I wonder if the gods are watching us. Maybe we should make them think we suck so they’ll leave you alone.”

I laugh as she sticks her tongue out, grinning wickedly at a nearby cloud. “Better yet, make them think we’re too powerful to be messed with,” I say. Jane sees me watching her and opens her mouth, sucking the cloud in between her teeth. The sky seems bluer in the space where it had been, and Jane’s eyes glitter with mirth as she swallows. “Mmm, tastes like sugar.” I giggle, feeling a small shiver on the top of my head. When I peer up, I see another cloud has floated over to me. I open my own mouth, and take it in, just as Jane did hers. “Sugar, yes. But there’s a touch of blood, too,” I say. Jane nods sagely. “What were we talking about?”

“The inherent misogyny in much of Greek mythology and the world of Camp Half-Blood in general.”

Jane nods again. “Right. A very important topic. It makes it weird when I’m writing sometimes. You know, cause I want to bring in Circe and Zeus and Apollo and all these fascinating characters, but there’s just so much bad stuff tied up with them that comes up when I research.” She looks down at our feet, which are standing in the midst of a strawberry patch. We seem to have been walking, crushing sweet summer strawberries as we go, which is odd because I don’t remember getting up. “You know Rachel, I’m feeling a bit strange.”

I look at her, and see an odd blankness in her warm brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, Jane, so am I.”

“My thoughts and words are my own,” Jane says, “But there’s something up with my body. I can’t really feel it.”

“I agree, I’ve honestly gone a bit numb.” I try to glance down at my fingers, wondering idly if they’ve gotten any more green, but find that my neck won’t bend.

Jane’s eyebrows furrow. “Yet, at the same time, I feel as though I could do anything. Grow another grass blade. Grow a flower. Grow a tree. Bend the world to my will if I wanted to.”

“Or is it the world bending me to its will.” I grin at my own philosophical point, but find that the smile won’t go away. Pretty fucking inconvenient, since the next thing I was going to bring up was part of the whole serious misogyny conversation. I decide to go for it anyway. “And I’m not the only one with weird rules!” Jane nods, as if this is a perfectly normal segway, and the only extraneous thought that floats through my mind as we find ourselves walking down a hill is how unfair it is that she still has control over her neck and I don’t. “Remember when I told you about the Hunters of Artemis?”

“Oh yeah! Your friends Reyna and Thalia, right?”

“Yeah, them! They send me letters sometimes, and seem really happy, which is great.” I pause, meaning to add emphasis, when I’m hit with a great sensation of deja-vu. “Wait a second, we already talked about this, didn’t we?” I try to remember, but something in my mind is rapidly melting. I cannot find it. I cannot find anything.

“Jane?” My voice quivers, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Oh gods, please let this be a dream. For a moment, I try to convince myself that it’s the Oracle of Delphi taking over, just like she did the other day and generally does a couple times a year. But I know that I’m lying. This is not what that feels like. “Jane, where are you?” I can barely move my mouth to say the words. I can feel nothing but the frozen fear of paralysis, of lost control. When I open my eyes, this other thing in my body has brought me to the edge of the forest. “Jane? Jane?” She could be right beside me, unable to speak, and I wouldn’t know because I can’t turn my head, can’t move my eyes, can barely even hear right now.

It’s okay, something says.

“Jane?” It’s not her voice. It’s no one’s voice.

It’s okay. You’re home.

With every cut the wooden oars made through the choppy ocean water, Sabrina knew she was getting closer. She could feel it in her bones, in her brain, a little voice that whispered in her ear. It had been three hours. Her body was worn down, energy levels dipping dangerously low, when she felt something scrape the bottom of her boat.

A rock.

Frantically, she peered through the fog that had begun to surround her boat a mile ago. The island. Had she finally made it?

As if answering her call, a peel of thunder rang out, and Sabrina’s boat began to fill with rain that pounded down from the sky. The storm from her dream. She rowed even faster, then, fear sparking a renewed strength in her tired muscles.

Just as Sabrina was about to reach the shore, a massive wave crashed over her, and her boat capsized. She came back up, sputtering, holding her sopping wet bag above her head. Another wave swept against Sabrina’s face, and she found herself spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. Finally, she washed up on the shore, heaving breaths raking through her lungs.

Sabrina blinked, pushing herself up onto her elbows. It was real. She was here.

She had made it.

FROM THE POV OF ROSALIND PENDERWICK

It’s been a pleasant day so far. Breakfast with my siblings and some of the Demeter cabin (though Jane did seem a bit absent-minded). Miranda, Florien, and Rio convinced me to practice some plant magic with them for a couple hours and I built up to growing a small sunflower. Lunch (again with Jane seeming distracted, though Rachel ate with us this time, which appeared to help). Then, Skye and Jeffrey disappeared with some of the older campers (supposedly for a regular game of soccer, but the unsettling gleam in their eyes had me doubting that was all there was too it), Jane and Rachel went to take a walk in the strawberry fields, and Batty and I were left to prepare for a pegasus riding lesson. If it had been up to Batty, the latter could have easily taken up the entire afternoon, but changing into durable pants and finding a bandana can only take so long.

After a somewhat restless hour, during which I grew three peonies and Batty rhapsodized about the stable of unicorns that another demigod camp apparently has, Batty and I arrive at the stable. We’re ten minutes early, and she’s been talking a mile a minute the whole time, not stopping from before. I swear I now know as much about pegasuses as she does. According to Rachel, the teacher today is Percy, her friend, who’s very responsible “when he puts his mind to it.” I wasn’t sure how to tell her that’s actually not very comforting, but Batty looked so excited and I figured there will be plenty of other people there, so. Why not. She’s been spending so much time there anyway.

Needless to say, I very much regret my decision now.

The stables are modest, made of wood and painted green, and I’ve been there several times by now. There’s a long line of stalls visible when we first walk in, but Batty skips straight to the far end, where a massive pegasus the color of a carrot pokes its head over the door and nuzzles Batty’s hair. She looks up at me with a smile that could melt anyone’s heart, and pats the horse on the nose. “Rosy, this is Queen Lotus Flower. Percy said we have a impenetrable bond.”

I look at the two of them with a questioning gaze. How can they both have the exact same puppy-dog eyes? I swear to god. The gods. All of them. “Batty, sweetheart. That horse is like ten feet tall.”

She nods enthusiastically. “I know, she’s so much taller than any other horse I’ve seen. Percy says she has the biggest wingspan of any horse at camp.”

I nod, slowly, wondering why my sister picked the biggest pegasus to fall in love with. At that moment, Percy pushes the door open. “Hey Batty! Ready for your lesson?” Batty leaves her post by Queen Lotus Flower to wrap her arms around my waist and nod. I look Percy over. He’s a few inches taller than me, with brown skin and curly hair. A beaded camp necklace, orange tshirt, and jeans. Weird arm tattoo aside, he’s one of the most normal-looking people at camp. I’ve only met him a couple times before, but, my nerves over Batty flying around on massive horses aside, I do trust him. Rachel seems to have a good taste in friends. Also, Batty likes him, and she’s still shy around a good number of Skye and Jane’s friends back in Cameron.

For the next few minutes, I watch as Percy instructs Batty on buckling Queen Lotus Flower’s giant saddle and looping the bridle over her nose. Not wavering a bit from the “lesson” aspect of all this, he steps back to let her show what she’s already learned from hanging around the stables so often, only stooping in to guide her when she gets confused. As the minutes tick by, more people show up for the lesson: three other students, and a good sized crowd of people who just like watching the pegasuses. By then, I’m seated on the grass outside the stables, soaking in the blistering sun and watching as Percy (seated atop a wiry black pegasus who Batty pointed out as Blackjack) darts around the large dusty enclosure, making final preparations for the lesson.

Skye and Jeffrey show up then, and sit on either side of me. I want to ask them where Jane and Rachel are, but they’re talking non-stop about a game they just played in the woods with some of the other campers, only switching the subject when Percy and Blackjack return and they begin discussing whether or not it should be scientifically possible for a horse to fly.

Just as Batty and Queen Lotus Flower begin a gentle trot around the enclosure, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and hear the familiar sound of Tommy’s chuckle. “She’s got a weird knack for that,” he says. I nod, grinning.

It’s been good with us. We’ve had breakfast together a few times, even played a game of basketball one afternoon. Our conversations aren’t the same as they used to be, and there’s a sense of newness that feels cold and strange every so often. But it’s good. It feels right. At least for now, this feels like where we’re supposed to be.

As Percy starts demonstrating how to take flight, I look around again. Jane and Rachel still aren’t here. They promised to come. (“For moral support!” Jane had said. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Rachel had added with a smile). I try to push it out of my head. This lesson is a big deal. Batty’s going to be flying.

She leans forward on Queen Lotus Flower’s neck.

They begin to run, moving together like a single being.

Just as they burst into the air, Batty’s euphoric smile lighting up the sky, Katie grabs my shoulders from behind. I shush her so I can lean forward and watch Batty silhouetted against the pegasus’s wide orange wings.

“Rosalind. Rosalind, guys. ” Something about the panic in Katie’s voice makes me turn around. Her usually tied back hair is loose and her clothes rumpled, giving the impression that she was dragged out of bed for this. (Some part of my brain distantly remembers her saying she was going to take a nap). Skye and Jeffrey turn around, too.

“What, what’s happening?” I reach out my hands, trying to calm her as she collapses into a squat, breathing heavily.

“Billie… found me in the cabin… had been looking for you guys… been running all over the camp… lucky I remembered about the riding lesson…”

Jeffrey leans over and puts his hands on her shoulders. She stares down at the dirt while her breathing levels.

“Katie, what are you saying? Why were you and Billie looking for us?”

She looks up, and I see that her forehead is drawn into well-worn creases of worry. “Jane and Rachel have gone into the woods.”

Something was wrong. Sabrina crouched on the wet sand, straining to see through the heavy rain. In her dream there had definitely been someone else on the island. She remembered the hunched figure, the sound of sobs leaking through the rain.

But she’d circled the shore at least twice by now, and there was nobody to be found. “Am I late or something?” she wondered aloud. Somehow, she’d gotten that dream It felt like it had been sent to her. Why did it show a person when there was no one?

Sabrina sighed and began to traipse inland, tucking a knife in her pocket. It wasn’t a big island, and she might as well find some shelter aside from her boat, which was now overturned somewhere on the beach. Circe lived here, didn’t she? There must be some sort of roof, especially if this kind of weather was standard.

Or maybe this was just a random island and there was no Aeaea and Sabrina’s dream had just been the unhinged work of her unconscious mind.

There was a small grassy hill set aside from the sand, which Sabrina crawled up with the determination of a dying warrior. Something was pushing her back. An invisible force, a last crumb of survival instinct, plain old fatigue, she wasn’t sure. But something wanted her out of here, and it pushed back harder and harder as she climbed.

She let out a cry of frustration, clawing at the ground, at the air, at whatever this goddamn thing was, and found a renewed burst of strength that pulled her to the top of the hill. Once there, the force that pushed back ebbed a little, like it was giving up. Sabrina let herself relax, and simply took in the view for a moment.

The hill she lay on top of gave way to a deep valley, sprawling and green. In one corner, there was a cluster of trees that looked healthy and comfortable, despite being on a random Greek island in the middle of the ocean. A modest garden lay next to it, somehow appearing unaffected by the rain, and a narrow river wound around the whole scene.

There was also a house.

Sabrina wasn’t sure what she might have expected from the lair of an infamous Greek enchantress, but it wasn’t this.

She hauled herself up on the hill and started down, rushing through the rain onto a wide wooden porch. There was a large stone vat of something dark and crumbly, with a heavy looking staff of sorts leaning against it. The door to the house was short, and Sabrina heard it scrape on the floor when she pushed it open.

The scene awaiting her was surprisingly cozy when she stepped inside. There was a fire in the hearth and rows upon rows of little viles arranged on a set of shelves beside it. A broom leaned against the wall. Sabrina looked around, noting the way that the rain didn’t make any sound as it thrashed against the roof and window, and the almost drug-like stupor that threatened to take over her brain, whispering that everything was fine, she was safe, nothing bad could happen to her.

Sabrina had encountered hypnosis before, and it only ever made her more jittery.

There was an open hatch in the floor with stairs that lead into darkness. She followed them down, feeling the air grow cooler with every step. Sabrina was quiet, taking tiny steps on her toes, and wincing when one of the stairs creaked. She didn’t know what was down there, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. But there were no arrows flying up from the space below, no sounds of footsteps or slashes of swords.

Sabrina stepped onto a dirt floor and let herself exhale, shuffling along until her toe hit something hard. Only seasoned reflexes made her reach for the knife in her pocket instead of crying out in fear. She knelt down and squinted in the darkness, trying to see what she’d hit.

A leg.

She frowned, shaking it until she heard a low growl. “Stop that.” She stopped.

“Who are you?” Sabrina leaned closer. If they hadn’t killed her yet she was probably safe.

Instead of answering, they reached out a hand. Sabrina could see a gold ring on the thumb that glinted in a little sliver of light that had crept down from the room above. “Pull me up,” the figure said. “I’ve been paralyzed by the witch.”

Helping the stranger sit turned out to be no simple feat. They were tall and muscular, wearing a cape and a heavy metal chest plate. “The witch?” she questioned, propping them up against one of the cellar’s dirt walls. Her eyes were beginning to adust to the dark, and she could just make out their sharp chin sticking out as their head lolled back.

The figure made a noise. “The witch, the sorceress, the woman. Whatever you want to call her. I figure she sent you down too?” They snorted. “Good luck. I told Zeus not to sent mortals, but does he ever listen? You’re gonna die.”

Sabrina tried to piece together what she could from all this. The witch must be Circe, unless she’d wound up on an entirely different island. And if Circe was going around paralyzing people, then something must be going on. She must be hiding something. As for the person in front of her, Sabrina wasn’t sure who they were. By the way they talked about Zeus, and casually said “mortals,” she’d guess some sort of god? As if that narrowed it down. She’d have to be careful.

“Why did she paralyze you?”

Another weird gutteral noise. “She didn’t like my offer. It’s not the first time this has happened.”

She was growing impatient. Why’d he have to be so vague? “What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why he always sends me. I don’t think he trusts me. He’d rather me stay her paralysed in the basement of a witch than come back home.”

Sabrina let out an exasperated sigh. This wasn’t working and she needed answers. A whole coast of people with mythology-shaped holes in their memories awaited her. “You’re going to need to be a little more specific. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

The figure sounded confused. “What do you mean? Don’t you know who I am?”

She leaned forward and inspected them in the darkness. “No. No I don’t.”

They slid their eyes down to her face. “I am the god Apollo. I came here for Circe and she did this to me.”

“What? Why?”

The stairs creaked behind Sabrina and she felt a long nail drag up her back. “I just want to be left alone,” said a voice as deep and powerful as the smell of red wine. “You don’t mind, do you?” Before Sabrina could grab her knife and turn around, before she could even scream, strong arms had surrounded her shoulders and a hand was clamping a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. Shock made her breath in, sharply, and she smelled the sweetness of sleeping drugs.

A heartbeat, a brief struggle, and Sabrina Starr was gone.

[haiq-trash]

Cinderella AU

So a heads up. I was previously @lu-haikyuu I lost that account :(anyways this is a repost. To clarify I am the writer and owner of this fanfic👉👈

This AU I wrote inspired by @kos-tyan art work of Hinata and Kageyama Cinderella AU fanart they made♡

[Word Count: 1,189]

[Type: Fluff]

His pale hands were marked with spots of red and muddy purple. He’d been cleaning the floor for hours, the wet rag never seemed to clean as effectively as it should or maybe it was his evil step brothers who walked in and out dragging not only dirt into the house but there sneer comments as well.

“Oops! I think you misses a spot,” the spoiled brat sneered at him, “better hurry or you’ll never make it to the ball!”

His laugh was neither enjoyable or pleasant it sounded as if though you dragged nails on a chalkboard while babies screamed.

Hinata just bit the inside of his cheek trying not to talk back the voice of his stepmother ringing clearly, “You talk back once and its no ball for you!”

They had left him on his own as his mind reeled. An Hinata had finally finished cleaning the floors as well as waxing. He walked with heavy arms and feet up the stairs. Sighing with relief when his body landed like a rock on the bed, as the stingy frame creaked.

The door opened slightly and there stood Natsu, her muted brown dress all splotched. Threads sticking out from every direction.

“Come here. I’ll fix that stingy thing for you real quick!”

Natsu shook her head full of striking orange hair, “ No Onii-chan! You must rest, tonights the ball after all!”

Hinata chuckled a bit. Tired or not, Natsu was his only remaining blood. After both their mother and father died, Natsu became Hinata’s life. But as she grew older, more independent Hinata felt lonesome.

He stood from bed grabbed some needles, a needle cushion, thread and began working away. Adjusting those loose strands in a flash.

“There all done, see? No time at all either way I have to finish working on my tux for the ball!”

Natsu’s eyes held specks of glitter, “Oh! Can I see how it looks like? Pleaseee!”

Hinata stood up from his bent down position and walked to the corner of the room there stood a mannequin wearing a almost completed tux.

Blue in cloth color and trimmed in the edges with gold/yellow lining. All gathered from discarded materials and clothes from his step brothers. All that was missing were the final buttons and he would be done.

“Wow that looks amazing!”

Hinata flustered a bit and nodded, “Thanks Natsu.”

Soon enough the step mothers cried for help were heard and Natsu stood up to do so. Not before saying, “I’ll go Onii-chan, you finish your tux and don’t have too much fun!”

Hinata was about to protest but his sister had already left. He began to humm a lullaby his mother sang to him a long time ago. As tiny baby crows flocked to his window peering from the edge to see the dancing ball of orange fluff.

Once complete, he swifty changed his clothes. The sun no longer shone as bright so it was safe to assume some hours had passed by.

An although the sun wasn’t as bright, Hinata sure was. As he saw his hard work on himself, he look amazing. No longer the markings of a peasant.

He twirled around as excitment drew near, it was almost time for the ball! Oh how much did he want to go! Socialize and make a multitude of friends, he even heard the prince was quite the looker.

He knew many girls would want him as a suitor but it was well known that the prince preferred men. So his step brothers were out for the hunt.

But his peaceful moment was interrupted when he was called down stairs. Still in hi suit in all he walked as he saw his step brothers dressed in over the top clothes with [quite dreadful] ruffles.

“Hinata you forgot this mark!”

“N-No I didn’t it must have been made recently”

“Are you calling your step brothers liars?!”

“N-no! Its just-”

“Mother! I dare say isn’t that MY clothes? As well as my dear younger brother?!”

The oldest of the two walked to Hinata and gripped the suit.

“N-Now wait! Its clothes you’ve discarded and-”

But Hinata was silenced by the gasp of the older step brother and as he ripped the sleeve. The younger one followed, each devil pointing out where or what the cloth was taken from.

Till Hinata laid sat down, head facing the dirt mark, suit in shreds. His step mother towered over him, her menacing shadow ending any sunlight that hit him.

“You shall not go to the ball! This behavior is unacceptable! You will stay here with Natsu and clean the dishes all night!” An dare he say he saw a smirk graze her wicked face.

Soon the carriage arrived and the bumbling devils left the home. Hinata walked upstairs to his room and cried as the little crows flied near him. One began to peck at his toes, he sniffled.

“W-what?”

The little crow hopped from one place to another. Moving, flapping its wings toward outside.

“I have to go help Natsu”

The little birdie did not care and began to peck him on the head.

“Ow! Ow! Okay, okay I’ll go!”

The little birdie flew out the window as Hinata walked to follow it. It lead him to a patch of clear forest, no shrubs or weeds in sight as a beautiful river laid on the middle.

He walked around and saw his reflection, the mess he was and began to cry. His dream ruined, crushed.

But he stopped. When he felt a hand be placed on his shoulder, looking up his eyes widened.

A man with silver hair, warm golden eyes and a mole under one wearing a robe smiled down on him.

“Don’t fret my boy! I’ll help you go to the ball!”

Hinata sniffled as he stood up, “Why would you do that for me?”

The robed man lifted one hand from beneath his robe revealing his wand, “Well i’m your Fairy Godfather after all!”

Hinata eyes widened as he looked at the man who was chatting with the crow from earlier.

“I know Asahi! Can it or I won’t turn you back,” he cleared his throat and turned to Hinata.

“Now my boy. You want to go to the ball yes?”

“Yes! I really do!”

His Fairy Godfather waved his wand, “well you going to need a new tux and a carriage while your at it too!”

“Bibbity Boppity Boo!” He began to chant and sing as he moved. Specks of magic wrapped themselves around Hinata and his ruined suit became a art piece. Patterns and stitches so complex not even the best tailor in town could compete with. The small pumpkin the crow had brought turned into a huge carriage and the crow from before turned into a tall, long haired bearded man that stood handling the horses that were once mice.

Hinata stared in awe as he began to choke up, “Thank you!”

“Your welcome but be warned! The magic will wear off once the clock strikes midnight!”

He pushed Hinata to the carriage and he rode off, his heart pumping.

When he arrived, the grand staircase greeted him as royalty and nobles from across the land arrived. He mingled with them actively avoiding his step mother and brothers. Although they possibly couldn’t have recognized him.

As he walked he caught eye of his step brother dancing with the prince he was wearing a white suit trimmed with a golden color. Hinata thought the prince looked absolutely beautiful. His stepbrother on the other hand kept stepping on the princes toes. An Hinata suppressed a giggle and once the music stopped and there dance was over the prince caught the sight of orange hair.

Their gazes met and Hinata flushed. Then the prince pointed at him and declared, “You, dance with me.”

Hinata awkwardly stumbled to him as his step brothers and mother glared at him. Yet did not recognized him as the prince grabbed his hand. He planted a kiss on it and Hinata fumed as he began to blabber.

But it all halted as the music started and they danced. Hinata peering into the princes magical blue eyes. His dark hair , strong arms. Hinata realized he didn’t want the dance to end. An for the rest of the time the prince had Hinata by his side as the people whispered amongst themselves.

“Who is that boy with orange hair? What is he doing with Prince Kageyama!?”

Hintas step mothered glared as realization hit her, “No idea.”

Meanwhile Hinata and Kageyama talked all night, finding multiple common grounds and differences. Everything was paradise.

Until Hinata heard the clock chime as the clock struck 12. He began to panic and tole the unsure prince, “I-I have to go!”

Kageyama tried to grab his hand, “Wait! Where can I find you!”

But Hinata was already off, running leaving nothing in his awake, besides a stand of orange hair. He hopped on his carriage and was able to get home just in time before the carriage transformed into a pumpkin and the horses into mice.

The next week Hinatas mind was occupied with thoughts of the dreamy prince. Until a marshall came and declared that every house hold would be checked for orange hair. Hinata’s eyes widened, he was looking for him?!

An when the knock came to the door Hinata rushed to open it, but was stopped by his “family”.

“Don’t even think about it! We already saw you with the prince at the ball that night!”

One brother had Natsu in his grasped and forced Hinata inside his room with his sister. Locked the door as he shouted and banged on it.

The marshall had come in with prince Kageyama. His blue eyes scanned the room, two orange haired boys stood peering at him. He grabbed the strand of orange hair and held it to there’s for comparison.

“Its too dark” he scowled.

“Oh your majesty you must be mistaken! It is clearly the colo-”

“Its not” his voice was gruff, it was not his hair. It was too dark. The marshall and the prince were about to leave, bodies half way through the door. When Hinata ran into the room, pink and sweating. The prince turned back to see his eyes wide.

“Its you!” The prince shouted as he pushed aside the protesting mother and step brothers.

He held his strand of hair to Hinata and it was a perfect match. The prince hugged him in a warm embraced and spin him around.

(A few months later)

Hinata stood in the palace nervous as his Fairy God Father, Suga giggled.

“You’ll be fine!”

Hinata stuttered, “I-I’m getting married!”

Natsu giggled as she spin in her adorable dress with bows on it.

Suga adjusted Hinatas tie and pushed him to enter the door. There as he walked down the aisle he saw Kageyama standing handsome as ever.

His step mother and brothers no where to be seen, doomed to wash palace dishes for lifetime.

As a Hinata and Kageyama were seen kissing through the carriage windows. Flying off to their own happily ever after.

Hinata walked hand in hand out of the church with his prince. As crows flew and petals rained from the sky, bells ringing symphonies of happiness.

[mychaosacademia-blog]

Different jobs that My Hero Academia characters could have (as adults)

*LONG POST WARNING! MORE UNDER THE CUT*

1. Midoriya- The Good Cop™

Deku always wanted to save people and before One for All became a part of his life everyone advised him to simply go for the police. If he didn’t become a hero, he would probably become a policeman, and he’d probably make a damn good one, taking into account his perfect balance of righteousness, selflessness, and empathy. If all cops were like him, the world would be saved.

Midoriya: *holds back tears* I-it’s okay now... Because I am here...

2. Bakugou- The Impulsive Soldier

Is there any job that Bakugou could like doing more than fighting? He could initially struggle with being at the very bottom of the military hierarchy, but being put in his place for a while could perhaps help him get over his problems with accepting losing and help. And anyway, he’d climb up fast. After all, this boy’s strong and smart as heck. Just imagine him getting to drill the new recruits...

Bakugou: *yells* I’LL KILL YOU, LAZY SCUM!! 500 PUSH UPS, starting NOW!!

New recruit, terrified to the core: Aye sir!

3. Uraraka- Bob The Builder

Uraraka’s quirk would be perfect to use on a construction site. She’s a strong girl, practical and determined, and would even manage to deal with any potential accidents at work. Plus she comes from the working class, but that’s just an addition.

Uraraka: I can work hard and earn money for my parents this way too!

4. Todoroki- The Vengeful Firefighter

Get it? FIRE-FIGHTER. Now THAT would be a way to go against Endeavor and his plans, wouldn’t it? Tbh much sassier than becoming a hero.

Todoroki: It is then... *15 minutes of traumatic flashback* when I decided to devote the rest of my life to fighting fire. After all, it reminded me of my father... the reason I got this scar...

5. Tsuyu- The Lifeguard

Taking into account what hero internship Tsuyu chose, it is quite easy to determine what she would do with life if she wouldn’t become a hero. The sea is her area, and water is her friend. But she needs some contact with the land too like frogs do and she liked saving people so...

Tsuyu: Kero... *blows the whistle* Please get out of the water, a storm is coming!

6. Iida- The Pure Lawyer

Iida is the most Lawful Good person in existence, probably. He likes rules, knows them all, and is really dedicated to reminding others of them. Cases with his involvement would be guaranteed to be solved justly, regardless of the benefit of his client.

Iida: *gesticulation intensifies* Your honor, I urge you to consider Article 137, paragraph 3! And wear warmer clothes tomorrow, this weather can make you sick!

7. Kaminari- The Portable Phone Charger  Disco Bartender

Kaminari is surely someone who likes people and a good party. Even if his quirk would make him perfect for an electrician, quite certainly he’d just regard it FAR TOO DULL. This boy wants to be COOL. He’d probably try to work his way up to a manager or owner of his own club; but with his intelligence stats, this could take a while. For now, he’d make SHOCKING drinks and chat with everyone around.

Kaminari: *obviously flirting with customers and showing off his cool electricity tricks* yEAH MY FUTURE CLUB WILL BE THE COOLEST! Imagine like... MEME THEMED PARTY

Customer: *quietly* That sounds kind of cringy...

8. Mina- The Kids Entertainer

Mina just seems like someone who’d be simply ADORED by kids. She’s sweet, bubbly, so so fun, and looks like she’s dressed up already! The Alien Queen parties would be booked months in advance. And every kid would dream of getting one for their birthday...

Mina: IF YOU’RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT CLAP YOUR HANDS!

Kids: *climb on her back trying to touch the horns* ALIEN QUEEEEEN!!!

9. Kirishima & Testutetsu- The MMA stars

STRONG BOIS. MASCULINE BROS. GOTTA BE THE MANLIEST and gayest. MMA ROCKS AND HAS A HEART OF STEEL! Also Kirishima would be quickly voted the greatest cinnamon roll of MMA

Tetsutetsu: *screaming and wrestling*

Kirishima: *screaming and wrestling wholesomely*

10. Ojiro- The Veterinary Assistant

Ojiro isn’t the greatest fan of the spotlight, and probably would enjoy a calm, but helpful job as a veterinary assistant. Plus, his tail can give him instant connection points with scared, caudate pets!

Ojiro: *waggles his tail*

A normally aggressive dog: *waggles the tail back and jumps to lick his face*

Ojiro: *giggles, petting the dog* See, there’s nothing to be scared of!

11. Toru- The Shop Assistant actually secretly a CIA Covert Investigator but shhh it’s a secret

We know that Toru likes shopping and would probably be great as a boutique employee. She’s sweet, she has great social skills, and she certainly has style! But at the same time... it would be hard to believe that with her quirk she didn’t get a suggestion to become a spy alongside her job. Did she agree? Did she not? I guess we’ll never know...

Toru: You look amazing in this suit, Mr. President! I think you should really buy it! *places a tiny hidden camera inside the pocket*

12. Koda- The Wildlife Rehabilitator 

There is no other job where the ability to talk to the animals would be more life-saving than a wildlife rehabilitator. Also, taking into account how shy Koda seems, he’d probably prefer to work with animals rather than humans...

Koda: Don’t worry, sweet bunny! You’re safe now!

Bunny: *noms on his plushie*

13. Aoyama- The Sparkling Model

Was there ever any doubt? Aoyama would be a STUNNING model. Just imagine...

*LIGHTS OFF*

*A REFLECTOR ILLUMINATES A SINGLE SPOT ON THE STAGE*

*EPIC MUSIC PLAYS, THE CROWD WHISPERS EXCITED*

AND THERE HE COMES......

Aoyama in his new pajamas collection!

Aoyama: I cAnNoTu StOpPu SpArKLiNg!!

14. Yaomomo- The Patient Teacher

Lecturing Mina and Kaminari among others before the exams just HAD to take lots of patience and supreme teaching skills. If she managed to make these two pass, she can definitely deal EVEN with a class of 30 10-year-olds.

Momo: *for the 13th time* Now, let’s try again! 2 times 3 is?

Some kid with IQ of Kaminari an ameba: ....4?

15. Jirou- The Sound Engineer

She’d definitely keep playing music as her hobby but she seems like a person who’d like to have a stable, technical job as her primary source of income nonetheless. Plus, her quirk would be perfect to hear out the slightest inadequacies of sound!

Jirou: So we have to add gain here, equalize there, distort over here, and probably remaster the whole thing too.

A very confused beginning artist: Uh-uh...

16. Tokoyami- The Subculture Shop Owner

Tokoyami is such a goth birb. So dramatic. So dark. If any goths or emos saw his room in the dorms they would all LOVE this aesthetic. As such, he’d make a good job at picking and selling clothes and accessories for fellow goths and other subcultures. And having Dark Shadow would just make him more famous...

Some goth girl: So you’re like... REALLY filled with a Dark Shadow of you? That’s so spooky!

Tokoyami, who already heard this question 20 times in the past 2 hours: What do you want to buy?

17. Sero- The Steeplejack

With that quirk, he pretty much wouldn’t have to worry about falling. Not to mention THE POWER OF FLEX TAPE

Sero: *swinging on the tape on top of a cathedral* This is pretty fun!

Other steeplejacks: *clinging to their ladders* Watch out!

18. Satou- The Pastry Cook

Mmmm his cakes. The world lost a treasure when Satou decided to be a hero instead of a pastry cook. Truly heartbreaking. Think of all the tasty things he would make constantly...

Class 1A, plotting behind his back: We have to make Satou fall out of the hero course

Satou, terrified: G-guys! I can bake you cakes without that!

19. Mineta- The Pimp *mild NSFW*

I am so sorry. Oh, wait, actually I’m not. Why is Mineta even trying to be a hero? I mean, should THAT be the job of his dreams?

Mineta: *manic laughter* OH MY IT’S LIKE A WET DREAM

20. Monoma- The Professional 4chaner  Internet Troll Actually why did I cross it off, that’s exactly what he’d do

I have no words.

Monoma: *sips Red Bull, typing* HA! CLASS 1A! YOU SPECIAL SNOWFLAKES REEEEEEEEEEE CUCK

21. Shinsou- The Questionable Detective

Ah yes. The police for introverts. Like Midoriya, Shinsou would probably want to save people a lot, so I reckon he’ll choose this path if he wouldn’t become a hero. Just think of how useful his quirk could be...

Shinsou: *having a suspect hypnotized* Knock on the table three times if you did it.

Suspect: *knocks*

Another detective: ...Are you sure this is ethical?

22. Hatsume- The Weirdly Motherly Engineer

I mean, she sort of already is one... But she could probably design much more than just hero costumes! What if she went to robotics... Then her babies could actually talk back to her!

Hatsume, turning on a new robot: My new baby!

Robot: *turning to Hatsume* Mama!

Every human being around: *assessing Hatsume’s age and judging hard*

23. All Might- The Hollywood celebrity specializing in superhero movies!

#LETALLMIGHTPLAYCAPTAINAMERICA2018

All Might: *looking at the shipping fanarts following the movie world premiere* ...........why has my life come to this

24. Aizawa- The Cat Cafe owner

CATS ARE BETTER THAN PEOPLE. If he had the money and time, he’d FOR SURE set up his own cafe of purring babies. And he’d be very protective over them every time he’d visit...

Aizawa: *thunder in eyes* Don’t you DARE disturb Marshmallow’s sleep, you can pet her when she wants to and ONLY IF she wants to

Mic: AWWWW MARSHMALLOW THAT’S ADORABLEEE

Aizawa: *aggressive whispering* I swear if your screams wake her up I WILL assassinate you

25. Present Mic- The Full-time Radio Host

I mean, this one is kind of obvious. How does he have 3 jobs at once anyway?

Mic: *PLAYS AFRICA BY TOTO FOR THE 3RD TIME DURING HIS 4 HOUR PROGRAM* I BLESS THE RAIN DOWN IN AAAAAAFRICAAAAA yo what do you mean I’m being cringy

26. Midnight- The 18+ Domina

Another kinda obvious one? Oh well. She’d be happy and empowered doing that, so don’t judge.

Midnight: Ah, so exciting!!

27. Tomura- The Unemployed

Tomura’s personality doesn’t seem exactly suited for any kind of work... or society, for this matter. At least as long as All For One is around, he’d certainly rest on him, gaming his days away. And after that... even though his sensei already planned for him to take over his company, Tomura prefers not to think about that.

Tomura: *hissing at any opportunity of a job* I don’t like this quest *hides in the hoodie*

28. All For One- The Plotting CEO

All For One seems to love his suit and wears it quite well, so he could certainly do well at a largely formal, managing job. And he’d be the first to exploit ALL for ONE, something that large businesses unfortunately often do...

All For One: *ruining someone’s life and fortune with a smirk* How unfortunate... for you, of course.  

29. Toga- The Professional Cosplayer

Toga’s quirk and erm... interests seem to be perfect for her to be a psycho fan of real-life celebrities, whose blood she steals for her cosplays. As these “cosplays” she makes are literally perfect, she manages to get quite a lot of money from the photoshoots. The celebrities are just very surprised noticing a fresh needle wound on their arm when they wake up in the morning...

Toga: *jumping up and down* I want to become them all! I will become them all! I want to cut them! Blood!

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 5: Heroes

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Note: @slashpalooza made this fanart as a Valentine’s gift to me. Love you Alex!

Title - Heroes by David Bowie

That’s right friends a Loser’s car trip with Reddie. 

It can also be found on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“Eddie, my precious snicker bar! Let’s get going.” Richie implored. Richie’s new bit of the week was to call Eddie different candies. Eddie thought it was kind of funny and just proved Richie only ever thought about sugary sweets.

Eddie had spent the last 20 minutes packing what felt to Richie and Stanley like all his belongs. He was really worried about forgetting something important.

“I am just making sure I packed everything and did not miss anything,” Eddie said looking at his list for the billionth time.

“Eddie, you were very thorough in your packing,” Stanley said reassuringly. “You got everything on the list I made for all of you.”

“What list?” Richie asked lazily.

“Damn you, Tozier,” Stanley grumbled.

“We have to get on the road. WE ARE BURNING DAYLIGHT!” Richie shouted dramatically.

Eddie looked outside and could see Bill’s big blue van, affectionately called Mama, parked in his driveway. Beverly and Ben had gotten out of the car, so she could smoke. Stanley and Richie were supposed to be bringing Eddie’s stuff down so they could get on the road, but this was proving a challenge. “Shit!” Eddie went into overdrive grabbing the rest of his supplies.

“Richie’s right, Eddie,” Stanley said glancing at his watch. “Driving in the dark will not be fun.”

Richie and Eddie looked at Stanley horrified. Then Richie’s face broke out into a huge smile, “We all heard it. Stan the man Uris said I was right. Let it be known. Let it be written! Hell, tattoo it on my arm.”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie,” Stanley said. “But seriously, we have to get on the road. I scheduled out the trip down to the minute and you are holding us back 22 minutes now.”

“Yes, ok fine! Let’s go.” Eddie grabbed his backpack and toiletry bag, while Stanley picked up his suitcase. Richie grabbed Eddie’s dad’s skiing gear. Eddie wanted to rent his own at the skiing range, but his mom insisted he take them since they were collecting dust at this point. It was hard for Eddie to think about his father. Sometimes, he wondered how his life would have gone if his dad had not died. Maybe his mom would be less protective and they would be happier. Then he would feel guilty for feeling this way when his mom had tried to do the best she could with a terrible situation.

“I like your dad’s skis. They are so cool.” Richie said admiring the black skis with hand painted stars on them. Eddie smiled at him as they made their way downstairs. Fortunately, his mom was out today. They had been arguing every day about him going on this trip. She got fed up with a final plea last night. Eddie did not back down once, even if his mind wanted to give in. He knew Richie would be really disappointed if he did that to them.

Eddie held the door open for Richie and Stanley. “We are only going to be gone a weekend, Eddie!” Ben said shaking his head. “We still need to fit Mike’s stuff.”

“You’re our resident architect, Benny boy. So start architecturatoring and fit all the stuff in Bill’s car!” Richie put the skis under the tarp on the roof.

Stanley fixed him with an exasperated look, “Architecturatoring is not a word, you idiot.”

“How does Richie get better grades than all of us?” Ben teased.

“My theory is he has a photographic memory,” Eddie grumbled. “I call shotgun!”

“Challenge!” Richie yelled. The two of them flew at the passenger door handle. Bill’s head shot up to watch them shoving each other. He was sitting in the driver's seat looking at the map but raised it slowly to hide behind. Eddie wiggled his way in front of Richie and wrenched the door open, trying to climb in.

“G-g-guys...chill. Don’t hurt, Mama. She’s a sensitive car.” Bill said nervously at their squabble. Richie caught Eddie’s legs to pull him out before he could sit down. 

Eddie yelled trying to free his legs, “I get car sick!” Eddie complained while kicking at Richie. He had managed to turn Eddie around, but Eddie was holding onto the door frame for dear life.

“You lie, dear lollipop! You just get so nervous when others drive you that you make yourself sick.” Richie was grinning smugly because he knew Eddie would not be able to hold on for very much longer.

“Same difference!” Eddie could feel his hands start to slip. “Fuck.”

“This is not how I pictured getting between your legs for the first time,” Richie laughed crudely. Every single loser groaned at the horrible innuendo.

Eddie aimed a well-placed kick to Richie’s chest for revenge. The lanky boy stumbled back rubbing at the new pain. Eddie slammed the door and locked it, then rolled down the window to stick his tongue out. “HA! Suck it, Richie!”

“Buy me dinner first,” Richie choked out as Eddie flipped him off. “You kicked me! The jelly bean of my eye kicked me.” Richie was in total shock.

Stanley glared at them, “You deserved it.” He checked his watch again. “Get in the fucking car everyone. We need to get Mike. I’ll sit behind Bill since I am navigating.”

Bill and Eddie looked at each other anxiously from inside the car. Ben, Beverly, and Richie stood staring at Stanley in surprise.

“Stan...is that such a good idea?” Beverly said hesitantly.

He looked at her incredulously, “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s my family’s place, I know how to get there.”

Ben piped up, “Sure, it's just that...when you are under pressure...you kind of…” Stanley’s gaze darkened and Ben lost his courage to continue.

“That is to say,” Beverly tried to explain sensitively, “When you have to be in charge of directions you...it’s just…”

Richie interrupted because this was taking too long, “What Benverly are so eloquently trying to say is YOU have a terrible sense of direction, will get us lost, then freak the fuck out in a typical Stan the Man way. Eddie should navigate.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Eddie said warningly from his seat.

Bill leaned over Eddie to speak out the passenger window. “Eddie can just do it, Stan. He’s a really good n-n-navigator.”

Stanley gapped at all of them trying to hide his hurt, “I will not freak out! And I can read a stupid map, Bill!” Stanley went to Eddie’s window and grabbed the map from Bill’s hand.

“I’m n-n-not s-s-sayin yuh-yuh-you can’t…” Bill always stuttered worse when people were upset at him.

“I will be perfectly fine to navigate, stuttering Bill. Let’s GO!” Stanley stormed to the other side of the car. Eddie saw Bill flinch at the harsh use of his usually endearingly spoken nickname. Bill leaned back in his seat looking straight ahead.

“So excited to spend the weekend with my besties!!” Richie cheered sarcastically. “We are so good at communication.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly said quietly. “I’m going to sit in the middle because I get a bit car sick on long rides if I can’t look forward.”

“I call next to Bev!” Riche yelled. They put the back seat down so Ben could climb into the way back. Eddie tried to glance at Stanley for reassurance that he was not too mad, but his face was hidden behind the map. Beverly gingerly sat down in the middle seat beside Stanley, as Richie squished next to her slamming the door.

Eddie saw Beverly slowly place her hand on Stanley’s arm. He tensed, then folded up the map taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Bill.”

“All good,” Bill shrugged and the subject was dropped for now. “Play some muh-music Eddie.” He started the car and drove out of the driveway.

Eddie went into his CD holder, “What do we want to listen too?”

“AC/DC!” Richie shouted.

“Joan Jett!” Beverly countered.

“Journey!” Ben said.

“I’d listen to some Journey.” Stanley agreed.

“Alright, Journey before Mike gets here and judges us.” Eddie popped in the CD.

“I’m judging us.” Richie pointed out.

“We’ve got 4 and a half hours in this car together. I will only be judging us.” Stanley said smiling as the rest of them laughed.

They got to Mike’s place and Ben worked to fit everything in the car. It was jam-packed with their bags, coolers for drinks, and snacks galore. They said goodbye to Derry and were off on their adventure.

  HOUR 1:

“I want to listen to Michael Jackson.” Mike pretested. Currently, the car was filled with AC/DC music.

“No Mike, we always listen to Michael,” Beverly said. “How about Tears for fears?”

“THRILLER!!!” Mike sang.

“That’s such a spooky song,” Ben said.

“It's close to midnight and something evil's lurkin' in the dark,” Mike kept singing. Eddie turned in his seat so he could look back at Mike. He was giving Ben crazy eyes, which made everyone laugh.

Ben giggled nervously, “We should be listening to Christmas music, it is December.”

“That’s not fair to Stan.” Beverly pointed out patting his hand.

“It doesn’t matter much to me-”

Mike put his hands on Stanley’s shoulders, startling the poor guy. “Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart.”

“You just about stopped my heart,” Stanley put his hand on his chest.

“Gay,” Richie said.

Eddie smacked Richie’s leg and watched as Mike removed his hands from Stanley’s shoulders then unbuckled his seatbelt. Eddie shook his head about to say something when Mike sang louder, “You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it,” Mike crawled half over the backseat between Stanley and Beverly.

“Mike!” Stanley yelled, “Put your seatbelt back on!”

“Sit down Mike!” Bill said harshly glaring at the rearview window. Eddie watched Ben struggle to pull Mike back but the taller and stronger boy would not budge.

Mike’s voice was drowning out the AC/DC music at this point, “You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes, YOU’RE PARALYZED!” Everyone was shouting at Mike to sit down, except Richie who had joined in singing.

“JUST PUT THE SONG ON EDDIE!” Stanley shouted looking at him with terrified eyes. Stanley, Ben, and Beverly managed to yank Mike back into his seat. Stanley hurriedly buckled Mike as the guy just laughed at his friend.

Eddie went into his CD case, took out his Michael Jackson Disc and popped it in the player blasting Thriller.

“Don’t do that,” Stanley said berating Mike.

“Aw, Stan! You care so much for me. Now shush! The king of R&B is singing.” Mike and Richie sang thriller doing the dance moves in their seats.

They kept listening to Michael Jackson but when Billie Jean came on, Richie was getting bored. “Why is every love song so fucking straight,” Richie complained.

Beverly laughed, “Rich, I keep telling you to give David Bowie a chance.”

“No, I refuse.”

“You have no reason to not like him. You just don’t because he’s different from other rockers.” Eddie huffed out.

“I am not that shallow, Eds.”

“Don’t—“

Beverly interrupted, “Richie you are a self-proclaimed bisexual man, you should try to listen to him!”

“Just because Bowie is bi doesn’t mean I’ll like his music,” Richie argued.

“I always thought Richie was Eddie sexual,” Mike said aloud.

“MIKE!” Eddie yelled horrified as he buried his red face in his hands. Everyone laughed and Eddie heard a hive-five behind his seat.

“Anywayyyy,” Beverly continued, “He’s so provocative and incredible. Please, let’s listen to one song.”

Richie considered it for a moment then conceded, “Fine. Put him on.”

“WHAT!” Eddie spun in the passenger seat. The seat belt prevented him from turning fully. “Ow,” He gasped rubbing at where the belt jabbed into his neck. He went to unbuckle his seatbelt so he could look at Richie properly.

Stanley reached forward and put his hand firmly over Eddie’s hand. Eddie glared at him viciously. “What the hell, Stan?”

Stanley did not back down or remove his hand, “You aren’t pulling a Mike. Only one of us can give heart attacks over seat belt behavior. Keep it on!” They kept staring daggers at each other until Stanley slowly removed his hand, ready to prevent Eddie from unbuckling if he had too.

Richie leaned over Beverly to make eye contact with Eddie and give a shit-eating grin, “Here’s my beautiful face for you to yell at, you tasty gummy bear.”

Eddie’s gaze sharpened on him, “I spent HOURS trying to convince you to listen to Bowie but you kept stubbornly refusing. Beverly barely even tried.”

“Beverly’s my best friend, you're my boyfriend. Not listening to you is my job. Keeps your ego in check.” Beverly laughed behind him. She pushed his head down so she could make innocent eyes at Eddie.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Eddie turned back to face front. Richie poked his side and he jumped reflexively.

“Put it on, marshmallow.” Richie cooed. “Give me some of that sweet Bowie sound.”

Eddie blushed as the rest of the car laughed at them. He grabbed his CD case and put in his David Bowie mix. He scrolled to the best song he could think of and let it play.

The smooth rock sound began with a clever rhythm. Everyone stayed silent to listen. Eddie lip-synced along to the words.

“I, I will be king 

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day...”

Eddie heard, “I love this songggg.” From Ben in the back but someone shushed him so Richie could really focus.

“...We can be heroes

Just for one day

We can be heroes…”

When the song ended Richie immediately said, “THAT IS LITERALLY OUR LOSER CLUB THEME SONG. PLAY IT AGAIN.”

Bill laughed, “You s-s-said Africa by Toto was our them-m-me song last week.”

“I spoke too soon! I have now been blessed with Bowie’s Heroes. EDDIE PLAY IT AGAIN!” Richie grabbed his sides to poke him repeatedly.

“Do...Not...Richie...don’t!” Eddie was trying to hold back laughs as he was tickled. “I’m pressing play! Chill dipshit.”

  HOUR 2:

“Beverly, did you pack cigarettes?” Richie asked worriedly.

“Yes, I...wait...Richie, I left them on my dresser.” Beverly moaned.

“Fuckkkkkkkk.”

“This will be good for you two,” Ben said encouragingly. “You both have talked about quitting.”

“Not cold turkey!” Richie whined. Eddie was watching the road carefully and saw as Bill drove past where they were supposed to merge.

“Hey, Stan…” Eddie said anxiously. He turned his head to look at Stanley. His curly head was buried in the map, hands shaking a little, and legs fidgeting. Eddie and Beverly made eye contact both thinking the same thing.

“What,” Stanley said barely controlled.

“I think we were supposed to get on the other highway just now.” He said with caution.

“We’re lost.” Richie guessed.

“We are not!” Stanley brought down the map to glare at Richie.

“Let go of your pride and give Eddie the map,” Richie said with a casual tone. He truly lacked any tact.

“I am not being prideful!” Stanley defended. "And we are not lost!"

“Get off here, Billy,” Eddie interjected. “We need to turn around.”

“How do you even know that?! I have the map.” Stanley huffed.

“Memorized it,” He really did not want to fight with Stanley but he was not going to let them get lost.

“You’re all against me!” Stanley roared.

“No we aren’t Stan,” Mike’s calm voice came from the back. “I trust you with my life and you are amazing at many things. Directions just aren’t your strong suit.”

Eddie expected another explosion but it was completely silent. Then he felt the map being shoved into his hands. He looked back at Stanley as the boy crossed his arms and stared out the window frowning.

“Let’s play a car game!” Beverly said to break the tension.

“What game?” Bill asked a forced cheeriness.

“Padiddle!” Richie yelled excitedly. “It’s the best game!”

“Padiddle only works if we can see taillights are out. The sun is still out, so you can’t really tell.” Stanley pointed out. There was only a little bite to his voice, maybe he did not want to stay mad.

“And I am not striping in front of everyone for padiddle,” Eddie added over his shoulder.

“Only for me,” Richie laughed.

“Shut up, Richie!”

“I’ve got one.” Ben jumped in. “I used to play it with my mom. You look into other cars and make up stories about what might be going on. Someone starts it then it goes to a new person to continue the story. Does that make sense?”

“Start us off Ben,” Beverly insisted.

Ben cleared his throat, “Alright, see the car on the right a little ahead of us? There are three teenage girls inside.” Eddie turned to see a red jeep with the three girls. “Tiffany, Tamera, and Tina decided to run away from home because everything was becoming too overwhelming...”

Mike spoke up, “So they packed up everything they could and took to the road not looking back. However, Tina had a secret...”

“That secret was um…” Stanley hesitated, “That she wanted to marry Tamera and Tiffany’s older brother Terri. He was planning to meet them in Vegas in a week so they could get hitched...”

Beverly continued, “Tamera and Tiffany would later be enraged that their friend would lie to them and make a plot to get even...”

“They would lure Terri and Tina into a false sense of security,” Richie said in a spooky voice. “By saying the wedding was a great idea but really they were going to kill them both for their treachery...”

Eddie piped up, “The murder would be slow and painful. However, Terri and Tina found out about the murder plot and decided to plan their own murder!”

“The wedding was a mess of murder and chaos and only one of them survived. The end.” Bill finished.

“Bill,” Ben said, “What the fuck, who survived?”

“Yeah!” Richie hit Bill’s shoulder, “You can’t leave it there.”

“You’ll never know.” Bill grinned.

Stanley laughed to himself, “I’m more concerned that we turned it into a murder spree. Do we need therapy?”

“Definitely,” They all said in unison.

  HOUR 3:

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“What about now?”

“Do you see us at the cabin yet?”

“When will we be there?”

“Richie, shut up.” Stanley and Richie had been going on like this for a couple minutes now. Richie’s constant stream of thoughts unyielding. “Eddie, make him stop.”

“If I knew how I would,” Eddie said lazily.

“Pull over Bill! I have to take a piss.” Richie said.

“Can you hold it another hour?” Stanley said frustratedly.

“No can do Stan the Man. When Mother Nature calls, you don’t ignore it. Just pull over—”

“Actually, can we go to a gas station so I can go?” Beverly asked.

“Sure,” Bill put the indicator on to get off the highway. Ben, Beverly, and Richie got out much to Stanley’s complaining.

“Get me skittles while you're in there!” Mike yelled to them. Richie gave a thumbs up.

“I feel like one of us should follow them,” Stanley said anxiously.

Eddie turned his head to look at him reluctantly. “By ‘someone’ do you mean me?”

Mike waved his hand dismissively, “Ben’s there, he’ll make sure they behave.”

“Ben has the backbone of a chocolate eclair,” Stanley said deadpan.

It took a moment for the joke to sink in but slowly Bill, Mike, and Eddie started laughing. They were cracking up so hard their sides hurt. Eddie was wiping away tears as he said, “You should have a fucking standup act, Stan.”

“B-but his only audience would b-b-be us.” Bill said turning in the driver's seat to smirk at Stanley.

“It’s the only audience he needs,” Mike put his hand on Stanley’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“Bunch of softies,” Stanley mumbled smiling.

Bill’s eyes shifted to Eddie’s window. He squinted with his mouth slightly agape. “Why are they running?” Eddie whipped his head to look out the window. He saw Richie yelling something; with Ben a little before him running faster than Eddie had ever seen him run; and Beverly taking up the rear.

“Richie is shouting something,” Eddie rolled down the window. His heart beating a little faster.

“START. THE. FUCKING. CAR.” Richie screamed. They were almost to the van.

Eddie looked to Bill, whose eyes were wide in confusion but he started the car saying, “Shit shit shit shit.” Over and over.

Ben got to the van first his momentum banging into the car then wrenching the back door open. He climbed into the middle seat saying, “COME ON BEV!” Out the open door.

Richie opened the front passenger seat door. Eddie was so confused he did not have time to process as Richie plopped onto his lap, slamming the door after him. Eddie made an “Ugh” sound at the surprising weight on his knees.

He tried to speak, “Richie! What the…”

Richie interrupted him, “Bill, put it in reverse, fucking be ready to go,” He leaned his back into Eddie’s chest putting his upper half to one side, so as not to squish Eddie. He could feel Richie’s heart beating a mile a minute.

“Babe, what happened?” Eddie asked trying to stay calm. He pushed back the curls sticking to Richie’s forehead, staring at him with concern. Richie leaned into the touch with his eyes closed taking deep breaths.

Suddenly, the weight of the car shifted as Beverly got in, “DRIVE BILL!” She screamed sliding the van door closed.

It was then that another voice could be heard through Eddie’s window. An angry vicious voice, “You shithead kids! I am calling the police!”

Bill was already putting the car in reverse then floored it out of the gas station and back on the highway. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist tightly. Richie had his right hand gripping the grab handle above the door frame and his left on top of Eddie’s arms holding on for dear life.

Bill accelerated the car, they hit a pothole and everyone screamed as the car got a bit of air. Richie’s body lifted off Eddie’s for a moment then smashed back down on his lap as the car landed roughly. Eddie’s eyes prickled with tears at the impact on his crotch and he tried to muffle a scream as he instinctively tightened his grip around Richie.

“Rich,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “Motherfuckingshitballs shift over a bit. That fucking hurt my dick.”

Richie chuckled, “Now’s not the time for dirty talk Eds.” He shifted to relieve him. Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s back, to hide his pained face and let the familiar cologne calm him down from a potential panic attack. Acting as a seat belt for Richie was proving terrifying.

“Someone explain what happened immediately,” Stanley said in a tone reminiscent of an angry parent.

“Not telling you, dad.” Richie responded immediately.

“Beverly and Richie are...are...IDIOTS.” Ben said in exasperation sounding on the verge of breaking down. “Sorry Bev, I don’t mean it but what you did was so dangerous and frankly careless.”

“I know I am so sorry,” Beverly choked out. Eddie could hear the coming of Beverly crying, so he tapped Richie to tell the story.

Richie got the hint, “Well as you all know...Beverly and I have an addiction to cancer sticks.”

“Already don’t like where this is heading,” Mike said from the way back.

“So just like when we used to swipe cigarettes as kids, we did operation ‘Flirt and grab’,” Richie explained.

Eddie shifted so his mouth was free. “Beverly, I hope Richie didn’t pressure you to um…”

“Whore myself?” She let out a small laugh even though it sounded watery from tears. “Don’t worry Eddie, I was not doing the flirting. I was not the man’s type.”

Eddie groaned, “Don't tell me…”

“That’s right!” Richie said passionately, “I took one for the team and turned on the Trashmouth charm. My flirting was going great and...”

“I somehow doubt that.” Stanley interrupted.

“Yeah Richie, you can barely flirt with Eddie.” Mike laughed, “You are a garbage can of Mom jokes, innuendos, and saying Eddie is cute.”

“That’s cause he’s the cutest!” Richie turned to kiss Eddie on the mouth. He did not reciprocate, peeved that Richie was even trying to flirt with someone else. “Don’t be mad at me, Laffy Taffy, it did not go in our favor.”

Eddie made a disgruntled noise, so Richie turned back forward trying to get comfortable against Eddie’s chest. Richie let both his arms settle on top of Eddie’s arms, which were still clutching around his waist for safety. Eddie put his chin on Richie’s left shoulder, their heads leaning into each other. “As I was saying, I flirted then Beverly snatched cigarettes while the foolish man was distracted. However, we did not count on him propositioning me, so I tried to shut down the mission too soon and the guy looked at his camera screen to see Beverly stealing. So I did the only sensible thing, hit a display of snacks to distract, grabbed Benny Boy’s hand and screamed ‘HAUL ASS BITCHES’.”

Eddie placed a hand over Richie’s mouth, “Inside voice.”

Richie pulled his hand away, “Oh! And nicked candy,” Richie reached into his pocket and threw a pack of skittles toward Mike’s direction.

“Thanks!” Mike said cheerily.

Richie opened his own pack of starbursts. He took out a red one and tried to feed it to Eddie. He grimaced, “Did you wash your hands after going to the bathroom?”

Richie rolled his eyes, “Yes, gumdrop.” Eddie let him plop the candy into his mouth, savoring the cherry goodness.

“Bill?” Beverly said nervously, “You’ve been quiet.”

Eddie shifted his head to look at Bill. His friend’s eyes were slits, brows furrowed and hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He was breathing harshly through his nose trying to stay calm. “I’m really disappointed in you guys.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows looking over his shoulder to see Stanley’s surprised eyes and Ben’s hurt face. He could not see Beverly with Richie’s body preventing any more movement but assumed she was none too happy. No one commented on the fact that Bill did not even stutter.

“We are sorry, Bill.” Beverly said in a small voice.

“I’m not, we got the cigarettes,” Richie shrugged. Eddie rolled his eyes toward Bill’s enraged expression.

“Suh-suh-sorry about this, Eddie.” Bill seethed before taking his right hand off the wheel and aiming for Richie’s crotch. Bill hit home and Richie yelled in pain. His body convulsed on top of Eddie as he put his hands over his hurt manhood. Richie automatically tried leaning forward but Eddie’s arms were a vice.

“Fucking hell, Big Bill.” Richie put his hands on both sides of his legs taking deep shuddering breaths of rage. Eddie rubbed his hands in slow circles above Richie’s stomach making shushing noises. This seemed to help a little. Eddie definitely did not feel sorry for Richie, he was always getting himself into these situations.

“Ok. We are even.” Bill said cracking a smile. The rest of the car exploded into laughter. It was about 20 more minutes before Bill asked if they should pull over so Richie could sit in the back again.

“No, I like sitting in Eddie’s lap. He never lets me.” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s neck brushing his lips over his skin. Eddie’s mind began to swim at the distracting lips.

“That’s because you weigh too much,” But Eddie realized this was a weak excuse. He actually really liked Richie being on his lap. Ever since he was a kid, people wanted Eddie to sit on their lap because he was “small and cute”. It was different having someone important to him sitting so close. It actually felt very adult. Richie started pressing his hot mouth against his throat making Eddie’s pulse quicken. Richie ran his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin by Eddie’s ear then trailed wet kisses across his jaw. Eddie wondered briefly if Richie knew what he was doing to him. Then the lips smirked into Eddie’s neck and it was all too clear...Richie was aware of exactly what he was doing. 

“Still think I weigh too much for ya?” Richie laughed into his ear. Then he shifted on his lap getting even closer to Eddie’s body making him gasp.

“Pull over,” Stanley mumbled. “Eddie and Richie are making me nauseous.”

Eddie felt mortified that he let Richie be so bold in front of their friends. His face was on fire.

“Just as I was about to give him a lap dance,” Richie laughed.

“Beep Beep Richie,” Eddie hissed.

 “Also, does the car feel unbalanced?” Bill wondered aloud.

“Probably the extra Richie weight in the front,” Mike shouted.

“Everyone stop roasting me about my weight. Fucking rude.”

  HOUR 4:

“Yep, the tire has definitely lost a lot of air pressure,” Ben said with a sigh, his breath showing in the air. They all stood around the wheel shivering from the cold. Richie was hugging Eddie and rubbing his arms to keep him warm.

“P-probably the p-p-pothole we hit,” Bill kicked the tire. “Mama deserves better than us.”

“You gotta use a straw to blow air back into the tire,” Richie suggested.

They all ignored him, “You got a spare?” Mike asked heading toward the trunk.

“Under all our shit,” Bill said miserably.

“Let’s work together to get it then,” Richie followed Mike. Eddie looked at him in surprise. He must feel guilty for being the reason this happened. Together they took out all their stuff that was blocking the latch where the spare tire lived.

“Oh good, it’s the same as the other tires. So we don’t have to get a replacement.” Ben said as him and Mike heaved out the tire. Bill picked up the Jack and lug wrench.

“Bev, can you…” Bill began.

“On it!” Beverly went into the glove compartment grabbing the driver’s manual.

Beverly, Ben, Bill, and Mike went to the front to start replacing the tire. Stanley and Eddie went to work on putting everyone’s stuff back in the trunk. Richie stood around smoking a cigarette giving terrible directions such as:

“You have to put your head under the car to get a proper angle, Benny boy.”

“It’s lefty hefty, righty titties.”

“Those directions are in Chinese.”

“You have to remove everything then quickly throw the tire underneath and pray to God it latches.”

Most of these joke made Beverly and Ben laugh but the rest ignored him. When Stanley and Eddie finished putting everything back in the trunk, Stanley said, “Since I don’t know anything about cars...I’m going to sit in the car before my ass freezes.”

“Rich,” Eddie said getting the attention of the crazy boy. “Leave them alone and let’s wait in the car.”

“Coming my Reese's Pieces,” Richie cooed. He turned to Beverly, “The old lady needs me.” She put her hand up to her mouth stifling a giggle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie glared. “Just get in the car, you idiot.” Eddie got into the front while Richie hopped in the back.

Stanley was already sitting in the car reading his copy of The Shining, his legs under a blanket he got from his bag. Richie scooted in the middle seat, grabbed half the blanket and snuggled next to Stanley, who promptly rolled his eyes but went back to reading.

“Stan the Man is so warm,” Richie said putting his head on Stanley’s shoulder. “Hope this doesn’t make you jealous, Eds. You are still number 1 cuddle bug.”

Eddie laughed, “I don’t get jealous when it comes to you.”

“Liar,” Stanley mumbled.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised, “Excuse me? What does that mean Stanny?”

He cleared his throat still not looking up, “Do you think Richie likes Bill better than me?” Stanley had raised his voice in a clear attempt to mimic Eddie’s voice. Eddie’s eyes went to Richie who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh come on,” Eddie said seriously, “I was like 10 when I felt that way.”

Stanley glanced up at him, “Stan, I think Richie has a crush Beverly. They always smoke and hang out. Richie knows I hate smoking, so they don’t invite me.”

Eddie crossed his arms, “14! I bet you can’t find a recent example.”

The trunk opened with a gust of cold wind, as Mike and Ben tossed the supplies and old tire in the back. Bill opened the driver’s side door and Beverly opened the back door to bring the seat down for the guys to pile in.

“Hey Bill, what did Eddie say to you a couple months ago about Richie being neglectful?” Stanley asked mischievously.

Bill looked at Eddie with a cheeky grin, “That Richie is neglectful b-because ‘he never hangs out with m-m-me anymore. I thought we were d-dating. He hangs out with everyone more than me. Don’t people d-dating see each other all the t-t-time? I miss him’.”

“That was at the beginning of our relationship!” Eddie said in horror. Richie had doubled over with laughter laying sideways on Stanley who had the biggest smirk on his face.

“But Eddie, you see each other every single day.” Beverly chimed in.

“I-I well...I mean…” Eddie did not know what he meant. This conversation was starting to be really embarrassing.

“I got one!” Mike said jumping into the way back with Ben following behind him. Beverly got in letting Richie stay in the middle seat. Bill started the car and they were back on course.

“Shut it Mike!” Eddie seethed glaring at his friend.

“No…” Richie said between laughs. “Please go on Mikey!”

“Last week, Eddie found out that a girl in homeroom likes Richie. So he made sure she knew you two were seeing each other by kissing in front of her locker the next day.”

“Traitor!” Eddie screeched.

“You said you were kissing me in public because I looked hot that day!” Richie said in mock hurt.

“Eddie thinks he plays it cool. It’s all an act.” Bill chuckled.

“I looked up to you once!” Eddie punched Bill’s shoulder. 

“Eddie, it’s funny come on…” Stanley said through tears in his eyes.

Eddie pointed at Stanley, “JUDAS!” Everyone’s laughter got stronger.

“That’s it, I’m going to make this weekend unbearable for all of you. You think Richie and I were gross earlier? Just wait.” Eddie turned forward and opened the map harshly to make sure they were on the right track. “Beware my revenge bitches.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Richie asked poking Eddie's side. Everyone had quieted down a little at Eddie’s threat but were still cracking up.

Eddie frowned, “No, you’ll take my PDA and like it.”

“Fine by me, my jawbreaker.”

“Gross, I hate you.”

“Whatever you say, sweet tart.”

[artistic-writer]

Between Now and Nether :: Ch 12 :: A CS AU

Title: Between Now and Nether by @artistic-writer [full res fanart]

Summary: On their way to a Nolan Charity Gala, tragedy befalls Emma and Killian who is given just seven days to set things right.  Can he make Emma believe and escape the Nether before he is lost forever?

Rating: T+

AO3 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] Fanart Full Resolution: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12]

A/N: Ok, i feel like what is actually in the box is not as exciting as you were all hoping lol.  Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t?  I’m not sure...I just like cliffhangers *evil grin*  Again,  iam sorry for the delay with this chapter (it is normally posted 6 hours ago my time) but I have been busy with my RL and didn’t get the art done until about an hour ago.  There is a full res version (as there is with all posts) which, if you are eagle eyed, you will notice a small clue as to why Leroy killed Liam. ;)

Future updates will be Sundays AND Thursdays! (providing I can get the art made in time)

Forever thanks to @kmomof4 for beta’ing the shit out of this thing!  You are seriously the best!  And a massive thank you to @hollyethecurious who has been there to listen to me bitch and scream about this thing, and all the while she has had a smile on her face (i hope…there is an ocean between us - YOU’D BETTER BE SMILING!)

Taglist: @mariakov81 @rouhn @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke@hookedonapirate @galadriel26 @aye-captn @the-captains-ayebrows@yayimallamaagain @i-nvr-wrote-it @officerrogerss @kiwistreetswan @wellhellotragic@depechemode75 @distant-rose@yrellow-bugs-and-pirate-ships @courtorderedcake

If you would like to be added please let me know for ch 13!

———————————————————————————————————

“This is time sensitive,” Emma told Graham with a serious glance. They were seated back in her kitchen, the files from Killian’s safety deposit box spread out all around them. Killian had eagerly awaited their arrival by pacing around the ethereal world he was trapped in, using all of his energy to practice throwing things off the table, or moving cutlery along the sideboard in the kitchen.

“Aye, that it is…” he agreed with a nod that neither of them could see, his ghostly figure standing against the wall with folded arms, the table pushed against the wall passing right through his body where he stood.

Graham had a pensive expression, fingers toying with a patch of stubble below his bottom lip as his eyes scanned the paperwork in front of him. They had uncovered a plethora of dog eared pages, mostly photocopies of files that both Emma and Graham recognised would never have been allowed to leave the precinct, and they all seemed to indicate a larger plot involving Gold.

“This is big,” he said with a gasp, eyes widening.

Killian pushed himself from the wall and moved through the solid surface, leaning over Graham’s shoulder to see what he had seen.

“And time sensitive,” Emma repeated urgently, rearranging herself in the chair so that she was sitting on her crossed legs, leaning forward over the files. “Killian has less than three days left.”

“And I don’t much fancy getting stuck in the Nether,” he grumbled, slightly irritated nobody could hear him.

Graham reached out and plucked a page from the pile before him, a mugshot of a young Jefferson staring back at him, the illegible scrawl over the page telling him it was a very old arrest warrant. “Liam and Killian have been very busy.”

Both Emma and Killian frowned. “How do you mean?” Emma asked, spying the page in his hand and taking it from him without permission. Half of the information for Jefferson’s arrest was missing, either erased or simply left out. Emma frowned, scanning over the lack of information on the page, the headshot of a rather young looking Jefferson neatly secured to the bottom of the page.

“That is an arrest warrant for the Jones case,” Graham said, sitting back in his chair and pointing to the page in her hand. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and sighed.

“Liam or Killian?” Emma asked, scanning the page. If the name of the murdered party was on the page, she wasn’t seeing it.

“Brennan and Saoirse’s,” Graham said sadly.

Emma’s head snapped up form the page and she looked at Graham wide eyed in disbelief. “Jefferson killed Killian’s parents?” She choked on the words, a lump catching in her throat. Emma felt her heart break. Neither Killian or Liam ever spoke of their parents and now she knew why.

“Aye…” Killian said sadly, moving to stand next to Emma. He had known since he had acquired Liam’s notes, but he had never told Emma. Regardless of the hurt associated with finding out who killed your parents, if this information had got Liam killed, the less Emma knew the better.

“And according to Liam’s notes,” Graham shuffled a few pages aside, finding a page he had previously found relevant. “He did it for Gold. Seems he was released on a technicality.”

“Gold paid off some dirty cops to look the other way more like…”

“Oh baby…” Emma sighed to herself, the familiar chill creeping up her spine that she knew was Killian standing behind her. “But why?”

Graham passed her the piece of paper and shrugged. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”

Emma took the crinkled, dog eared paper from Graham and laid it down in front of her. Jefferson looked so young and Emma wondered when he had been corrupted, and how.

“It has to be in these notes somewhere,” Graham said, shuffling a nearby pile around.

Emma gasped when she felt a cold hand skim across her stomach, looking down at her lap where there was nothing. She had only felt traces of Killian up until now, the faintest of breezes and feelings, but now she felt his very cold, very real palm pressed to her belly and she held her breath.

“He has a daughter…” Killian whispered and Emma shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as Killian’s words echoed in her ears.

“His daughter,” Emma whispered, peeling her eyes open, her dazed expression meeting Graham’s. He looked at her confused, his brows knitting together. “He has a daughter,” Emma cleared her throat, shaking her hair over her shoulders. “Gold is obviously using her as leverage.”

Graham swallowed. Emma’s statement made him no better than Gold. Even though his threat was harmless in comparison, and no harm would ever befall the girl at his hands, Graham felt a pang of guilt invade his soul. If Gold had been manipulating Jefferson for years, maybe decades, no wonder the guy was losing his mind.

“This can’t just be about his daughter,” Graham scoffed, finding a photo of the young girl. She was pretty, cherub cheeked with silky blonde hair plaited in a french braid, her huge smile grinning at the camera. Graham handed Emma the photo of Grace and shook his head. “She wouldn’t have been born back then.”

“You’re right,” Emma said, taking the photo and skimming her fingertips over the child’s face. Emma’s lips twitched into a weak smile and she instinctively clutched at the shirt covering her stomach. “But maybe that’s why he killed Killian? Maybe Gold threatened his daughter?”

“Aye, love, bloody brilliant!”

Emma gasped again, jumping forward on her chair and nearly toppling off when Killian’s voice took her by surprise. What felt like a rush of ice surged through her, starting at her womb and radiating outwards, and when she had settled upright again, Emma groaned. Graham reached out his arm, steadying her and helping her back onto the seat.

“Are you okay?” He frowned, confused, his hand hovering over her shoulder in case she fell again.

Emma rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Could you warn me next time you are going to get so excited?” She called out into the room.

“Sorry, my love...”

Graham narrowed his eyes when no answer came. “Killian,” she told him simply, refocusing back on the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s here?” Graham licked his lips nervously, refocusing his own attention on the page in front of him, not actually reading the words.

“I am always here,” Killian growled at Graham, his fingers flexing over Emma’s stomach. Her lips twitched into a smile that she tried to hide but Graham noticed.

“What did he say?” Graham asked, looking around the room with a worried glance. Emma may have warmed up to the fact that her boyfriend was haunting the house, but it made him nervous.

“He said he is always here,” Emma smirked.

“Watching…” Killian huffed.

“Okay, easy tiger,” Emma laughed lightly to herself as the words invaded her mind again.

“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Graham suggested awkwardly.

“Oh come on, Humbert,” Emma teased. “You boys can play nice, right?”

Graham’s gaze roamed around the kitchen, but he saw nothing. There was nothing quite as disturbing as knowing somebody you couldn’t see was right next to you. Watching you.

“Maybe I should possess him again…” Killian teased, a smile playing across his face.

“Don’t,” Emma stifled her giggle and Graham shot her a paranoid glance.

“Now what did he say?” He asked, irritated.

“He said, maybe he should possess you again.”

Graham shuffled his chair back, eager to get away from Emma and Killian who was clearly near enough to her that she could hear him. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the sink and a light brown folder toppled to the floor between them, the edges folded into a strange angle from being stored underneath something much heavier at some point.

“Tell him to stay away from my body!” Graham shouted around the room, unsure if he was about to be taken over or not, the fear making his heart beat faster and the blood in his ears pump louder.

“With pleasure,” Killian grumbled, staying at Emma’s side. “Ungodly smooth is not my preferred grooming regime.”

“Guys!” Emma shouted, silencing them both when she slapped her hands down on the surface of the table loudly. The thump shook Killian back, his hands slipping from her body and made Graham look up at her in shock.

“I’m sorry...It’s just…” Graham begun, trying to explain how he was so scared with a more manly voice.

“No, Graham, look!” Emma said quickly, rising from her own seat and kneeling next to the fallen papers. Graham frowned, cocked his head to the side and knelt with her, shooting one last glance over her shoulder before he committed to the vulnerable position. “Do you see what I see?” Emma asked excitedly, smoothing her hand over one of the pages, flattening out the corner. She repeated the action with the next page. And then the next. And then another, until a pattern of dots and dashes started to emerge between the pieces of paper.

“Is it a code?” Graham titled his head at the dots, each scribbled onto the corner of the pages in black ink but hidden from view by the fold. “Do you think it means something?”

“Of course it means something!” Killian snapped, watching them fiddle with the papers. He recognised the code instantly as the reverse morse code he and Liam used to use to communicate in secrets as kids back in England. Their father had taught them morse code and when their parents had died, they were shipped back to England to live with a distant relative, so they had invented a secret reverse version of Morse code in order to keep their conversations from their caretakers. “Liam, you glorious bastard!” Killian yelped, almost skidding across the papers as he fell to his knees beside Emma.

Emma welcomed the gasp and chill across her skin once more, looking sideways to where Killian would have been had he been a solid form. She held his hand to her and waited, knowing he was trying to tell her something.

“It’s a code, Swan,” Killian said excitedly. “And I know exactly how to crack it!”

[actuallydeglace-blog]

The ‘getting to know people’ game, tagged by @hatakefran!! (you’re the one who drew me that awesome saku-in-the-shirt-pic!)

Name: my pen name is DeGlace, it means “of ice” in French. Why? Because 11 years ago I thought it sounded cool and mysterious (I’m actually a native French speaker, parlez-moi en francais ok mais je vous signale que j’m’efforce pas avec les accents sur mon clavier anglais à la con et je n’arrive tjrs pas a trouver le c cedille)

Ilvermorny House: wat?

Favourite Colour: various shades of blue

Favourite Animal: a mystical-looking white stag moving soundlessly through a foggy pine forest. and there has to be dripping moss hanging from the boughs of the trees, and a wood flute playing in the bg. also puppies :333333

Time Right Now: 9:45 pm and I’m disoriented cuz I crashed on the couch for a nap after work and just woke up and everything is confusingÉÉ*

*note à mes collègues francophones, merci de noter que j’ai trouvé les accents

Average Hours of Sleep: 7ish?? I am Elderly and have uncool sleeping hours

Cat or Dog Person: I love both these creatures; how dare you make me choose

Favourite Fictional Characters: 

Professor Snape when he was still an asshole, get away from me with that loving redeeming stare-into-harrys-eyes shit ew; 

Sakura before she was nerfed into bandana’d housewifery, like circa the Sasori fight which wow like girl crush to the max omfg; 

Elizabeth Bennet in Kiera Knightley form, like are you trying to fuck my shit up those fine eyes;

Also that version of Mr Darcy *empty-air handsqueeze* you all know the scene I mean

Number of Blankets I Sleep With: in winter in my balls-cold country, a sheet, a flannel between sheet thingy, and a thick-ass comforter, then I wake up all sweaty and aggressively throw it all off, then I freeze, then I try just sticking a leg out then I start wondering when a monster will touch my toes, which are now cold, so I stick ‘em in my husband’s warm crotch. He objects to this behaviour, then he tries to do the same to me and I scream because I HATE FEET, THEY’RE UGLY AND WEIRD AND ALWAYS SEEM MOIST

Favourite Singer/Band: no favourites, man, I love all today’s random catchy hot pop, give me shit that makes me dance in the car while I drive my 2 hrs every day, I freely listen to the biebs and taylor and everything else like the tasteless dweeb I am; my current jam is “Closer” by the chainfires or the chainsmokers or w/e and I will never not turn it up, ALSO STARBOY

Dream Trip: I AM AN AVID SCUBA DIVER AND IF ANYONE WANTS TO FUND ME GOING ON A DIVE TRIP (HUSBAND OPTIONAL) TO THE GREAT BARRIER REEF PLS CONTACT ME I CAN WRITE YOU A FANFIC; if you operate a liveaboard contact me x1000000 I am a great dive buddy I almost always share air when you’re running low unless there’s a turtle or a nudibranch or a spanish dancer to look at then you’re on your own pal ‘cuz I got things to observe, go suck on an urchin

Dream Job: THE ONE WHERE I GET PAID TO WRITE FANFIC AND TAKE LOTS OF NAPS!!! Stop asking such great questions I’m getting really excited

When was this Blog Created: um I don’t know how to check but last year I think

When did your blog reach its peak? we are still ascending my friends, me and my 12 followers are gonna take this site by storm

What made you decide to get tumblr? @krispytin left me this anon review on UC @ FFnet with a link to fanart she’d made, here, and of course FFnet garbled up the url so I was like “WAHT HOW DO I SEE IT” then I came here and I couldn’t figure out how to contact her (tumblr is like, not intuitive to me at all) and I finally anon’d her some allcaps shit and then she could only answer back via blog posts because she didn’t have a FFnet acct to PM and I was like ok I’m joining this dumb site with its dumb unlabelled buttons so I can properly talk to this person and the rest is history and these painful run-on sentences, you may now take a breath

I tag umm *starts pressing @ and clicks all the dropdowns*: @beyondthemoor @enecola @lisaflowers @fineillsignup @ladyofsnark @renaerys @darth-sakura @frostmarris @krispytin @kunoichi-ume @siartha

(Note, full list of questions here, I deleted a few I didn’t want to answer)