#i remember walking the horse back up the hill to my friends

[katherynefromphilly]

Whenever I hear people complain about TV characters being Unexpectedly Able To Do Amazing Things, I think of that one time that I got off of a galloping horse.

I had been talked into horseback riding by a friend who was a Horse Girl, and because I’d never ridden a horse she took me to a safe (ha!) rent-by-the-hour farm, where the ponies looked bored and walked slow.

Five minutes into the ride, my horse took off down a steeply sloping narrow mountain path, full-ass galloping towards certain death via smashing into a massive tree trunk that had fallen across the path.

Considering that my options were 1) being thrown from the horse and impaled on a tree, or 2) getting off the galloping horse and taking my chances, my brain chose Option 2 for me, and so I got off the horse while it was still galloping, then hung from its side pulling at its reigns, unintentionally slowing the horse down enough so that I could run alongside it and pull its reigns even harder, finally managing to stop the horse right before we both smashed into the tree trunk.

So yeah. Sometimes people can Unexpectedly Do Amazing Things. I don’t know what to tell you Karen.

[bubblesuga]

Kingdom Come

Summary: Min Yoongi realizes that despite his efforts of keeping the reader safe, he cannot hide her forever. Tags: yoongi x reader!AU, fluff, angst, smut (prostate play), switch!yoongi, switch!reader A/N: I know I disappeared for six months but a girl gotta work unfortunately. With Yoongi's comeback, however, it made me want to write a period piece inspired by daechwita yoongi. So, here yah go:)

The tile is cold against your feet. It's not often that you find yourself wandering his home barefoot but when you do, you always feel much closer to the Earth than before. It gives you a small sense of safety, like you're better prepared to exit quickly and quietly should you run into someone you're not supposed to see.

It doesn't take you terribly long to get to his room. Of course you wish you didn't have to sneak, but you understand the consequences if you happen to get caught. How does a king, a ruler of thousands of people, find himself meeting with a woman of your status? A simple baker from the village below, sneaking her way up to the castle every single night to share a bed with him. But that is as far as it goes, as The King cannot publicly share his affection for you.

You remember meeting him before he was King. Before the war.

Your mother was always quick to send bread up to the fortress, and before, the townspeople were welcomed behind the castle walls. You rode your bike high up the hill with your sack full of baked goods to give to the queen. And he always sat waiting for you, in his satin clothing with the smallest smile on his face. He was the reason you didn't mind the trip.

When he was a prince, it was much easier to get away with interacting with him. Both children, both eager to make friends, and both unknowing of the world around them. Rather, unknowing of the two separate worlds you were living in.

When the war broke out and the fortress walls were sealed from the general public, you were effectively separated from him. It wasn't until you were nearing 20 years old when you saw him again, declaring victory as he rode his horse through town. His face bloodied and bruised, and a scar cut deeply over his eye. His victory run stopped abruptly when he saw you, standing just as you would when the two of you were children, with flour on your nose and your hand covering the gasp threatening to escape from your lips.

He was declared King shortly afterward. His mother and former queen becoming far too weakened by the stresses of the war to continue ruling the people. By then you had accepted the defeat of never seeing him again.

That is, until a handmade tea cloth holding together two single roses appeared on the doorstep of the bakery, with a note containing a simple message.

Meet me under the pear tree where you used to sing for me. I'll be waiting.

Your heart raced the entire time you walked up the hill, until you finally made it to the top to see his silhouette in the moonlight. As you approached, he looked over his shoulder and the same small smile from before returned.

"My King." you whispered nervously, bowing. Before you are able to complete the bow, he rested a hand on your shoulder and raised you up.

"Don't do that," he whispered back, "just call me by my name. I am not your King. I am your equal."

Again, your heart raced as your lips parted to say, "Of course, Yoongi."

You shake your head of the memories as you approach Yoongi's door. The usual giddiness that follows you has been lacking lately, your anxiety becoming more and more prevalent the longer that you realize that nothing is going to change. Despite your memories and how much you love Yoongi, you do not want to be his secret forever. You have a life to live. You may want children someday, you may want to be able to cook for him in his own home or even tell your mother that you're seeing him. You know that it's not realistic, but it hurts nonetheless.

So, the hesitancy that has taken over your excitement tonight is no longer a surprise.

Your knuckles softly tapped the familiar beat that the two of you came up with so he knew it was you. Three soft taps, a pause, and three more. You remember him giggling as he told you, "It's like my heart skipping a beat when I see you."

The door opens quickly, and Yoongi tugs you in the moment he sees you.

His hands are all over you in an instant, pushing you against the door while his lips move to trail kisses across your chest. His lips caress yours softly, soaking you in. He's always been quick and quiet in his movements, eager to taste you. Yoongi tells you he cannot live without the taste of you on his tongue.

As he darts his tongue out to lick a small stripe across your neck, he suddenly pauses.

"Are you okay?"

It's not until he says those words that you realize you haven't moved since he pulled you in. You feel yourself relax slightly under his gaze, but you can't help but feel a lump begin forming in your throat.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows in concern before pulling you close to him and leading you to the bed. "What is going on, my love?"

"I- uh," your breath comes out shaky, "Will it always be like this?"

Yoongi sighs. He doesn't ask for clarification because he knows exactly what your worries are. "I don't want it to be."

A single tear drops from your right eye, mirroring the now healed scar across Yoongi's face. Yoongi is quick to reach forward and swipe it away, his hands as rough as ever against your soft skin.

"I don't want it to be either. I don't think I can do this for much longer."

Yoongi's hands drop from around your waist, "What?"

"I don't know how much longer I can be kept a secret, Yoongi." You whisper, your face falling in your hands. Yoongi scoots away from you, and you can feel his body stiffening beside you. It makes your tears become more prevalent.

"You said that you would love me until kingdom come, _____."

You manage to tear your face out of your hands and turn towards him. His back is the straightest it has ever been, and his hands sit tense on top of his knees. It's almost jarring to see him so still, when moments ago he couldn't get his hands off of you.

"And I will," you breathe, "forever. But I have a life too!"

He seems to take your words in for a brief moment, before standing up and taking a seat across from you.

"Do you honestly think that I like having to go through this?" His voice is colder than it has ever been. You're used to him having his guard up but only when he feels someone may be outside listening to you. This is a new territory, but it had to be explored at some point.

"No, I don't think you do either. So why do we do this?"

"Because-" his voice raises slightly but he quickly regains his composure, "Do you know what would happen if the people found out I was seeing a commoner?"

You swallow, "You don't believe I have the power to be a royal."

"I won the war! If word gets out that I made a commoner my queen, you are the first person the enemy would go after should they want to regain power!"

"Oh, so this is all to protect me? Make me feel safe?" you're yelling now, but he is too. He doesn't seem to mind that others may here at this point, which the irony is not lost on you.

"Yes, exactly!"

"So what happens from here, huh? You have to marry at some point, is that when this ends? When your mother insists you find a Princess to marry? Is that when I have to go back and pretend that I never loved you? Watch you from afar, pretend like I didn't know your touch. Like I haven't felt the most intimate parts of you... Like I haven't lived and breathed just for you."

Yoongi's eyes hit the floor. You pull your knees to your chest and feel the weight of your own words rest upon your shoulders. If this is really what will happen, you can no longer do it. Love conquers all, but is it really love if it has to be hidden?

"My love..." he says after quite some time, sitting beside you on the bed. His head rests against the bed frame, "...I just want what is best for you. What makes you happiest."

"Being with you makes me happiest. If I cannot get all of you, then-"

"Then what? You don't want any of me?"

You don't respond.

"After all we've been through, you're willing to throw it all away? Because I'm trying to keep you safe?"

"I want to take the risk! If being your Queen means taking a risk then I'm willing to! I want to love you whole-heartedly, Min Yoongi." You explain, turning towards him.

He sighs softly, mirroring your position, before pulling you down to the pillow. He lays beside you, pulling you close to him. "I'll make you my queen if it means you'll be able to stay by my side."

You smile softly, "There's nowhere in the world that I am safest, than beside you."

Yoongi kisses you, gently. His lips curve into yours perfectly, like they were meant to always be there. You both to allow the kiss to become more heated, because it's nice just being with each other.

"You're right," he says, "we cannot continue hiding our love. Starting tomorrow, the kingdom will know you as my wife, my queen."

Your heart flutters, "You're not worried about the risks now?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, "I am terrified beyond belief. But I will go out of my way to make sure you will be safe. Forever."

"And I, you, Min Yoongi."

When you awake the next morning, Yoongi is already sitting up beside you. The sunlight shines into his room, and you realize this is the first time you have seen his room in this much light. It's obviously much later than you're used to staying, and Yoongi doesn't seem as panicked as you expected him to be.

"There is no way you're getting out of the castle without being seen so we have to tell Mother now. Before that happens, though, I want to make sure that you fully understand what you're signing up for."

You're rubbing the sleep from your eyes and pulling yourself up as Yoongi speaks.

"You will have people around you forever. The only place you'll get any peace is right in here. Your parents' bakery will be very successful seeing as their daughter is now a queen. If something happens to me, you will have to run the kingdom."

Blinking, you finally speak, "What?"

"If I die," Yoongi reiterates, "You will have to-"

Loud knocking rings through his room, causing the panic you expected to see from Yoongi to finally come up. "No time now, just act calm."

Yoongi rushes towards his door, his clothing flowing behind him. He opens it slightly, still leaving you blocked from view.

"Your majesty, I've brought you your breakfast." you hear softly.

Yoongi glances back towards you, before opening the door slightly wider. "I appreciate it, I am going to need a second bowl though."

The servant, an older woman with graying hair, meets eyes with you. Her eyes widen, "O- oh yes sir! I'll be back in just a moment for you and your missus."

Yoongi turns back to you after watching her scurry away with a smile on his face. He leaves the door open now, carrying the tray towards the bed and placing it in front of you. It's pork, a meat that you rarely ate, with porridge and a tall glass of water. You look up to him, feeling his hand tap your chin. "Eat up, my love."

You pick up the spoon and begin eating the porridge. It's delicious, better than anything you've ever eaten before in your life.

Yoongi sits across from you and picks up a piece of pork with his fingers, chewing on it slowly. "I will give it approximately 5 minutes before my mother is in here, by the way."

"What?!" you say, your mouth full of porridge. You instantly stand, rushing over to the mirror in the corner of the room and begin attempting to tame your hair. You've met the woman before, years ago, when you and Yoongi were both children. She liked you then, but how much will she like you now that you are going to be throwing her son to the wind?

"Baby," Yoongi stands behind you, grabbing your hands and holding them to your side, "You look fine. Everything will be okay."

"You're awfully calm for someone who didn't even think this was a possibility less than 12 hours ago."

"Because I thought it over last night. My mother will just have to deal with it. I am 30 years old, she has no say over who I marry, or who I taste." he turns your chin to him and captures your lips with his again. You can feel him pressing into your backside while his tongue dances across your bottom lip.

As you feel the outline of his erection press harder onto your ass, you moan into his mouth. He's very receptive to how vocal you are, but before it can go any further, footsteps approach his doorway.

He quickly pulls away and stands in front of you, watching as his mother enters the room carrying a second tray of porridge.

She's gorgeous, wearing pink and blue with her hair done up perfectly. She turns towards the two of you with a smile, "Yoongi, tell me who is behind you."

Yoongi steps to the side but keeps his arm in front of you.

His mother's eyes begin to water, "_____, are you seeing my son?"

"Y- you remember me?" Yoongi tenses beside you as you speak.

"Of course I do, you were the reason I couldn't get my son to come back home when you were children. I'd ask him where he was going and he would always say, 'Mom, I'm going to see my girlfriend.' And now here you are, finally in front of me." She walks forward and pushes Yoongi's arm out of the way, bringing you in for a tight hug.

"I was wondering when Yoongi would finally bring you home. It's been too long."

"W- we were scared." You respond, your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Scared of what?" She pulls away, flattening your hair and inspecting your face with eyes of worry.

Yoongi moves beside you again, "I was scared that you wouldn't accept her, and that the enemy may come back and get her should I go public with her."

"Nonsense," she lays a smack on Yoongi's shoulder, "_____ will be protected. Nobody deserves their love to be hidden."

~*~*~

After a full day of speaking with Yoongi's mother and explaining how long the two of you kept everything hidden, you were finally alone with Yoongi again.

He caressed your back softly in the bathtub, your body warm against his while he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"I'm glad your mother likes me."

"We just spent the whole day with her, do we have to keep talking about her?" Yoongi whines, water splashing as he throws his head back in a frustrated groan.

"Awe, does my poor baby need attention?" You turn around in the tub, facing Yoongi. His chest heaves as he juts his bottom lip out, "I do need attention."

"Oh you do? What do you need from me?"

"Can we finish what we started this morning?" Yoongi whispers, flexing his hips. His cock twitches beneath the water, causing you to reach forward and grip the base.

Your smile is almost sinister, while you begin jerking him off. He's tense immediately, his head tossed back and moans leaving his mouth. "You must have been hard all day, my poor baby. I bet you wanted to pull me away and use my mouth, huh?"

"Y-yes," Yoongi breathes, "I wanted you so bad."

"Mm," your hand moves faster, "couldn't wait to use me as your queen for the first time."

"P- please," his moans turn to whines, "fuck me, my love."

Your hand lowers and begins to dance across his ass, spreading his legs and allowing your fingers to brush against his hole. He whimpers the moment your finger stops, pressing into him softly.

"So good," your hand moves up and down his cock as your finger begins curl and thrust to brush against his G-spot, "Does my King like letting go with me?"

Yoongi nods, "Faster please."

Your hands quicken their pace as Yoongi reaches forward and pulls you forward, kissing you hard. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, his mouth agape while his orgasm approaches.

"Cum, my King. Cum for me."

Yoongi moans as he releases, his hole tightening around your finger. His chest heaves as he pulls you to him.

"You're so good to me. I'm excited to spend the rest of our lives together."

You grin against his chest, pressing light kisses across him.

"Let's get out of the bath and have round two in the bed?" You suggest, your thumb gently massaging above his collarbone. Yoongi smiles, "Does my Queen want her turn?"

Biting your lip, you murmur, "Yes please."

[jungle-angel]

Here I Am (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are finally able to live your best lives after his honorable discharge from the Navy

Warnings: Mentions of birth, pregnancy etc.

Tagging: @ohtobeleah My dear friend, it's still Feb. 16th here in the U.S where I live and I didn't wanna get all the timezones fucked up and with my classes tomorrow I wasn't sure if I was gonna be able to get it in on time for Galentine's Day (lol). But all the same, this is for you, based off the Bryan Adams song of the same name. Enjoy m'dear.

Out on the trail once again, you and Bob, gazed out across the land that was at last yours, your youngest baby in the wrap tied across your back, snoozing with his chubby little fists in his mouth. The older ones, Auggie, Patrick and Deidre were all back at the house with Bob's mother and father, leaving just you, Bob and your youngest to bond.

The day couldn't have been more perfect. The day was bright and sunny, the mountains and the hills a soft green as the wind rippled across them. Settling in Montana had been the best decision you had ever made, heaven on earth and a place where you both felt at peace.

You had been through it all with Bob, every tough deployment, every tear shed whenever he left and whenever he returned, spending so many nights with Penny and the other Dagger spouses on the phone or at each others' houses to take your minds off of things. Only after the Uranium Plant mission did Bob finally acquire his discharge papers, the both of you relieved beyond words that you could at last start your lives together.

Down the sloping trail you went with Bob next to you and Baby Rudy snoozing away, his little camo hat on his head to keep the sun off. You gave Bob's hand a squeeze as he smiled at you, the sun illuminating his face in its golden glow.

You couldn't have asked for better. With Bob as your husband, you were completely free to be yourself and he the same. You remembered well when you first moved into your home, running barefoot like a pair of wildfolk across the hills and through the fields with Bob, fishing in the river for dinner on those hot summer nights, the way the trees and the new flowers in your garden would bloom in spring and how could you possibly forget when the two of you had thoroughly fucked each other in the field when all the wildflowers were in bloom? You remembered the days when you had given birth to your older children, each time Bob walking beside you in the field to move things along and bringing them outside for the first time, each one a treasure you would both hold dearly.

And it still felt like that now, all the world feeling like new, the both of you still together and stronger than ever.

"Whatcha think sweetpea?" Bob asked.

"I can't think of any place I'd rather be, Bob," you answered. "Especially if it's with you."

Bob leaned in and kissed you, letting it linger for as long as you both could. The horses snorted a little, eager to get back to the house for lunch and you and Bob wanting nothing more than to go for that walk he had promised to go on with you.

And in all your years together, there was no place on earth that you would have rather been than in Montana with the man you loved most.

[chaotic-orphan]

The Immortal Hunter (6)

Read part one here // continued from here

*~*~*~*~*

Heath didn’t leave Killian’s side for a week after Felix’s party. On the third day that Killian stepped outside his quaint cottage on the edge of town, he smiled, bemused at the vampire who lingered on the stone wall across from his house.

“Do vampires sleep?” Killian asked that morning. Heath nodded along, enjoying the conversations he had with the human. It had been a while since he let himself have a friend, let alone a human one.

“Yes. We can sleep. I enjoy sleeping, I just don’t need to do it. Vampires are crepuscular creatures anyways so we—”

“Crepe— what?”

Heath blinked. “Oh, sorry. We’re nocturnal. We sleep at day and wake up naturally at night for the hunt. The opposite to humans who sleep at night and wake during the day.”

Killian hummed. “Felix isn’t nocturnal,” he said quietly.

Heath’s haze hardened as they came up to the gates of Felix’s estate. “No. Felix is an exception to many rules.”

Felix raised an eyebrow when Heath opened the door of the state house, Killian following behind. His cat-like eyes drifted lazily to the clock, a minute before the start of Killian’s shift. Hmph.

Felix greeted them in his usual cheerful way. Killian nodded stiffly, responding politely before dismissing himself to get to work. That left Heath as the object of Felix’s attention.

“You seem to have taken a liking to my darling pet,” Felix told him with a smile.

“He’s your employee, not your pet.”

“Well, he’s not as fun as you were. You could do it all. Employee, human punching bag, entertainment, blood source.”

Heath bristled when Felix slung a lithe arm around his shoulders, guiding him into Felix’s study. It was a beautiful room, and Heath could see why Felix spent most of his time in here. The walls on either side were fitted with mahogany shelves, lined with at least two hundred titles, all of which Felix had read. Some that even Heath read after Felix taught him how.

Dark oak wooden floors boxed in the lush, burgundy carpet that ran the length of the floor; the middle strip where Felix’s cherrywood desk stood proud, commanding the space. Behind the desk was the giant gothic window that opened out into the grounds behind the house. Heath remembered when he was helping the stable hand attend to the horses, feeling eyes on him and looking up to see Felix observing him from his study window. His proud head held high, arms behind his back, and even from the vast distance Heath could still feel Felix’s hungry, predatory grin on his face.

“Whiskey, darling?” Felix asked, disentangling himself from Heath and walking over to his decanter beside the two armchairs off to the left of the room, near the exposed fireplace.

“Why not.” Heath said with a shrug, following him to the armchairs and settling into one, staring into the flames of the fire. “You can’t touch Killian, Felix,” Heath said, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes.

The vampire paused his movements for a brief moment, a cunning smile gracing his lips. “Mmm. I love it when you’re bossy.”

“I mean it,” Heath told him, taking the glass of whiskey with a pointed look. Felix ignored it as he sat in the other armchair, staring into the flames. “The Hunter is protective of him, and if you get between that… he’ll rip you apart.”

“As if you wouldn’t love that,” Felix purred. “Such a shame that you’re leaving us to return your green hills of old.”

Heath bristled, shifting to get more comfortable. He felt Felix’s cat like eyes on him, studying him, everything he did or didn’t do.

“Well… I think I might be sticking around for a bit.”

“For how long?” Felix didn’t give him the time to answer, humming to himself, swirling the honey-coloured liquid in his glass. “Wait, no. Let me guess. Around… 80 years?”

Heath took a sip instead of answering.

Felix laughed. “And if I turn him before then?” He asked, his voice low and sultry. Heath looked at the vampire, letting his emotions pass over his face. “I guess you’d have to stay around forever, love.”

“Don’t test me, Felix.”

“Oh come on. You just need a little blood in you. Then you’ll lighten up.” Felix said. “I have blood on tap if you want it.”

“I’m about two seconds away from ripping your throat out.”

Felix waved him away. “You old flirt, you. Though, we do have to discuss your living arrangements if you are to stay here with me.”

“I’ll find somewhere in the village.”

“Nonsense.”

“I’d rather not stay here, Felix.”

“Well… that just won’t do, will it?” Felix asked, his bright eyes basking in Heath’s attention. “I’ll tell you what, darling. Because we’re such old friends, and because I understand that that monster inside of you will protect Killian at all costs, I have a proposition for you.”

Heath scoffed, nostrils flaring, because he knew exactly what Felix’s propositions were. Heath turned his eyes back to the flames, wondering vaguely if setting himself on fire would hurt less than whatever evil Felix had concocted in his mind. “Is this one I can refuse?”

“Of course, love. I’m not unreasonable. You always had a choice.”

Heath downed the rest of the liquid in his glass, savouring the burn in the back of his throat. “Alright.”

“I won’t touch a pretty little hair on Killian’s head, he will be the most protected human in the village. I’ll even spare his little family my wrath too.”

Heath nodded. “Okay.”

“But you have to understand, that that would mean I would be extremely bored, and you know how I get when I’m bored… so either, wow, look at me. Giving you options aren’t I so generous? The years have made me soft, Heath. Or maybe that was just your effect on me.”

“Either?…” Heath echoed, imploringly. Felix exposed his fangs over his lips, knowing he had Heath right where he wanted him.

Felix kissed his teeth, tsking Heath lightly as he stepped around to the back of Heath’s chair, slinking his arms over Heath possessively.

“You’re no fun, darling,” he said with a playful pout, lips beside Heath’s ear. Heath raised a hand, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist, trying to dislodge the touchy vampire from him, but Felix just clamped down harder around Heath. “And you forget, I’m stronger than you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple.

Heath huffed out a breath. “Either?” Heath repeated, defeated.

“Either, you take up your old position for me, in place of Killian. You provide me with all the joy and entertainment you used to before,” Felix murmured, smiling when he felt Heath shiver under him at the mention of entertainment. “Come back under contract for me, and work for me again…”

Felix trailed off, running a hand through Heath’s hair and pulling his head back and to the side, grazing his fangs along Heath’s throat. “Or you go out and you enthral a sweet little human for me to play with while you protect poor little Killian.”

Heath stiffened under Felix, his grip turning white knuckled on the glass. The sound of glass cracking punctured the silence between them until Felix tutted and Heath relaxed his grip.

“That’s—” Heath stuttered. “You know that’s not even an option.”

“But it is, love. I’ve always given you the choice.”

“The illusion of choice,” Heath spat, his words coated with a helpless venom. Felix’s free hand roamed to Heath’s chest over where his heart used to beat.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m making concessions too. It’s so much more fun to terrify humans, the taste of their fear, the pounding of blood.” Felix tightened his hand over Heath’s heart, puncturing his chest with his claws. Heath jerked forward with a hiss, but Felix pulled him gently back. “Though I’m sure I could make do with having you by my side again. You always were my favourite, you know.”

If Heath had a heart, he knew it would be racing a drumbeat in his chest. His lungs would tighten in his chest, pulsing against his ribs at the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at Felix’s generous offer.

“And if I refuse?”

Felix sighed against Heath, nuzzling his nose into Heath’s throat. “Then I’d have to use Killian in your place.”

Heath froze under Felix. Felix’s fangs traced a line down Heath’s throat, already knowing what Heath was going to choose.

“I hate you.”

“I know, little one.”

Heath’s fingers curled into fists, useless. He knew coming back here was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but to think that Felix would trap him again like this? He got out, why did he come back?! Why!

“We make a blood pact,” Heath demanded, tightening his free hand into a fist on the armchair.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.” Heath’s breath hitched as Felix’s fang drew a bead of blood in his throat. “Can I take that as a yes?”

Heath deflated in the armchair. He swallowed thickly.

“Yes.”

Felix hummed, delighted and sank his fangs into Heath’s throat. Heath bucked against him, trying to dislodge the ancient vampire from his neck, but Felix held him down with ease as if Heath still had the strength of a human. Heath hated the way he could feel Felix’s fangs draw the limited blood from his system, weakening him the more he drank.

Felix moaned happily against Heath, drinking every last drop with all the greed he wanted to. Heath was a vampire, he wouldn’t die if he was drained dry. Felix didn’t know why he didn’t think of this before. All the worries and limitations of humans could be mitigated with a vampire slave.

It was only when Heath let out a small keening whine that Felix pulled away, licking the wounds to seal them and stop Heath bleeding out. He didn’t even have to do that, it was more like a reflex than anything else.

Heath’s vision blurred, feeling lightheaded as Felix pulled away. He dropped the glass to the floor, which Felix caught before it hit the ground. The vampire set the two glasses on a table between the armchairs, smiling at Heath who was glaring weakly up at him through half lidded eyes. The venom must still have an effect on Heath’s body. Something Felix noted and stored away in the back of his mind.

“Oh, look at you,” Felix cooed, booping Heath on the nose. “Still as adorable as the first day I found you.”

“Fuh—ck you.”

“Still as feisty too.”

Heath tried to sit up, but his body felt as if it was cemented down to the chair in lead. Fuck. He hadn’t felt this powerless since… since he couldn’t remember when. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Felix cut a line over his wrist and Heath tried to push himself forward to reach the vampires arm. He had to drink Felix’s blood for the pact to be binding, to protect Killian if Heath agreed to be Felix’s fucking slave again.

Felix held his wrist out of Heath’s reach, his bright eyes shining as he watched Heath struggle and pant against Felix’s venom. “Come on, Heath. Just a little further,” he coaxed.

Heath shook his head, trying to shake off the numbness that kept his body still as the grave. He grunted with the effort, slamming his eyes shut as he moved forward, the world spinning as he fought against the compulsion to keep him docile.

“Come on, Heath,” Felix taunted. “Don’t you want to save that poor human’s miserable existence?”

Heath finally grabbed Felix’s arm at the elbow, pulling it down towards his mouth. Just before his fangs lowered, however, the wound healed and Heath glared up at the ancient vampire unimpressed.

A cold hand stroked Heath’s jaw. “Come on, darling. We both know it’s more fun to just take what you want.”

Heath swallowed, and bite Felix’s wrist, his fangs sinking deep into the flesh and drawing the old, recycled blood from Felix’s wrist. The blood tasted putrid and wrong, but Felix practically moaned above Heath as he pulled more and more blood from the vampire’s body.

A hand wound itself tightly through Heath’s hair and yanked back suddenly, pulling Heath off of Felix with a gasp. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get the horrible, acrid taste from his mouth, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. Heath glared up at Felix who grinned, showing his fangs down at Heath.

“Good,” Felix murmured, thumbing away a drop of blood that was dripping down the corner of Heath’s mouth. “Now, dear. Only one thing left to do,” he said, and sliced his left palm, the gash going deep. Before Heath could protest Felix grabbed his wrist and did the same, before joining their hands together.

Heath hissed as he could feel the pact take hold between them, burning through his palm to the back of his hand. Tendrils of black ink-like blood traced a beautiful pattern from the back of his hand, up his arm and locking like barbed wire over his heart. He lurched forward, clutching his chest with his free hand, trying to pull his hand back from Felix’s, but Felix clamped his fingers down around Heath’s until the process was complete.

The ink-like blood seeped into Heath’s skin, burning all the way through until he was a sweaty, trembling mess, his hands still held by Felix’s. Felix’s hand burned with the same pattern, except the colour of the blood on his arm was a garish, scar-like white. The intricacies of the deal, the covenant, the contract, were scrolled onto each of their skin in the old tongue, a reminder of what they had promised each other.

When it was finished, Felix dropped Heath’s hand and studied the strange glowing contract on his arm. “Wonderful. Now, all done. It wasn’t that bad, now was it?”

Heath didn’t answer. He didn’t even have the energy to glare at the vampire. He shut his eyes against the pain that lingered like dancers following the brand up his arm. Heath’s breath hitched as he felt Felix’s cold hands were on his forehead. His fingers gently moving the sweaty strands out of the vampire’s face so he could see every twinge of pain, every after effect of the blood pact on the once human thing.

“That almost killed you, darling boy,” Felix said with barely contained glee behind the words. “You really would risk anything for a foolish human.”

Heath didn’t have to energy to fight back, but he couldn’t deny that Felix’s cold hands felt so nice on his forehead, and he leaned into the touch like a cat would a human.

“Oh, my sweet boy. I think we should get you to bed, hmm? I don’t you fainting on your first day back in my service, oh all the things we will do together, Heath.”

Heath groaned as Felix wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out of the comfortable chair, letting him lean all his weight onto the ancient vampire. “There you go, sweet boy. Oh I could just eat you when you’re like this.”

“Fuck— off,” Heath whined as Felix walked them out of the study and towards the foyer. The backdoor opened to their left and in walked a quick-stepping vampire, pulling garden gloves off her hands and smiling when she saw Felix and Heath. Then she smelled the blood, and suddenly Celeste was in front of the pair, red eyes locked on Heath’s.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice breathless. She saw the bite marks on his throat and her gaze cut into Felix. “What did you do?” She hissed, bearing her fangs at him.

Felix smiled an easy smile. “We made a deal, didn’t we Heathy?”

Celeste’s eyes went back to Heath, softening at the edges. She put her hands on his cheeks, tilting his head to look at her. “You idiot.”

“I know,” Heath said with a breath, closing his eyes at her soft touch. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face, but she would understand when he told her later. She would understand and curse Felix and kiss him and everything would be okay.

“If you’ll excuse us, darling, the boy’s a bit drained. I’m taking him to bed.” Felix said. Heath could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, so proud to have Heath under his thumb again. God. He was such an idiot.

“I’ll take him,” Celeste said immediately.

“Nonsense,” Felix replied already walking forwards, dragging Heath along with him. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Heath smiled at Celeste’s protests, his heart would’ve beamed at her care and love, but Felix was older than both of them, and older meant stronger, and Heath didn’t want the guilt of having Celeste hurt because of his foolishness, so he was happy that she remained in the hall, watching the pair as Felix helped Heath up the stairs.

Heath stopped in the room he and Celeste were sleeping in, but Felix dragged him on, further down the hall. “Felix, where’re—”

“Hush, dear boy. Just let me worry about everything, you shouldn’t trouble your pretty little head about it.”

Heath swallowed, trying to straighten in Felix’s hold and dig his heels into the carpet, but Felix pulled him along, all the way down to the door at the end of the hall. Felix’s room. Heath’s heart leapt into his throat, as he struggled against Felix’s venom injecting weakness through every inch of his body.

He hadn’t been in Felix’s room since he was human. It was the last place Heath was human, and it’s not a place he’d like to revisit, or filled with happy memories. It felt as if Felix had taken a knife and plunged it into Heath’s gut, twisting the metal as he opened the door and Heath was greeted with the familiar scent of the vampire.

It wasn’t like Felix ever did anything untoward to Heath when he was human, but he had a very strange possessiveness about him that Heath knew humans just didn’t. Some nights, when Felix didn’t leave Heath in his own room, or in the basement in chains for misbehaving, Felix would bring Heath into his room, into his bed, and cuddle him like he was a teddy bear.

It was so foreign a touch, so strange and upsetting. Felix would wrap Heath in blankets until he couldn’t move his limbs enough to cause any real trouble and cuddle him the entire night, his arms like iron chains wrapped around his entire body. He remembered not sleeping initially and Felix noticing this, and that was worse.

Felix would talk to him then, or sing softly in his ear. Or he’d drain him until Heath passed out, and eventually Heath learned to just sleep as quickly as he could before the vampire tried to do any of the other things to try and get Heath to sleep.

“Felix, please, let me sleep in my room,” he begged, his voice coming out high and whining. “Please.”

“We’re here now, darling, don’t worry. Here, sit down there,” Felix said, setting Heath down on the side of Felix’s bed. Heath gripped the edge of the bed, the soft duvet bunching under his hands.

“You did this… on purpose,” Heath huffed out, the world swimming in a mixture of colours that made him feel sick. Felix appeared in front of him again, taking a knee in front of the immortal hunter and grinning up at him.

“Did what?” He asked feigning innocence and tilting his head as he worked on unlacing and removing Heath’s shoes. Heath closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from turning but it didn’t stop the wooziness in his head. He groaned and shot a hand out, grabbing the poster of Felix’s canopy bed. “Oh, pet.”

“I’m not your pet,” Heath seethed, eyes flashing open. That was a mistake. Felix moved with unnatural speed, scooping Heath up in his arms and depositing him in the middle of the ridiculously big and comfortable bed.

Felix grabbed the duvet and pulled it up, tucking Heath into the bed. “Now, surely, I don’t have to stay with you, do I? Or tie you down so you don’t try and get up, hurting yourself.”

Heath shivered at the thought. “No,” he said weakly. Felix beamed.

“Wonderful. I’ll be downstairs when you feel better.” Felix leaned in, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple. Heath turned away, but Felix just carded his hands through Heath’s hair. “I’m so happy you’re back, darling. I really have missed you. It’ll be just like the old days.”

Heath suppressed the whine of protest, opting to just stay silent and let the vampire just do whatever he wanted until he was satisfied and left. “Just call my name when you wake, sweet boy. I’ll come get you.”

Yeah right, Heath thought, but he just said: “okay.”

Felix beamed down at him, smile exposing his fangs and then he left. The heavy door shut and Heath flinched when he heard the sound of the lock. The bastard locked him in? Fuck. Felix told him once that he had made his house vampire proof.

Dramatic things, us vampires, he had told Heath one night when Heath was struggling to sleep in Felix’s bed, shivering against the monster. We like to break things and doors and furniture to make a point, so I made this manor vampire proof. Well, as much as possible. Ancient ones like myself could still destroy this place, but normal vamps? They may as well be human in this place.

So Heath would have to call Felix to come and get him when he woke up. Great. Perfect. Right now, Heath was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. He could deal with Felix when he wakes up, hopefully after the venom leaves his system. Sleep came easily, his last thoughts were warm: at least, he thinks as darkness grabs him in its comforting grip, at least I saved Killian and his family from eternal torment.

[000noway]

Obey me The Glory Days (Pet Version)

This is based off the Card Story!!

Go to My profile for more!

Part 1:

A few months had passed since MC had brought their unique menagerie of pets home. The once-empty backyard now bustled with life, filled with the sounds of barking, meowing, and the occasional whinny from Lucifer's new horse trailer.

On a pleasant afternoon, MC sat on the porch with their friend, surrounded by a sea of photographs. They were in the process of creating a scrapbook to document their adventures with their new animal family.

"Look at this one!" MC exclaimed, holding up a picture of Mammon chasing his tail. "Isn't he adorable?"

Their friend laughed, sorting through another pile of photos. "They're all so photogenic. It's like they know when you're taking a picture."

As they continued working, MC's friend glanced towards Lucifer's trailer. Their eyes widened in surprise as they noticed something unusual.

"Hey, MC," they said, pointing towards the trailer. "Is Lucifer... talking to someone in there?"

MC looked up, following their friend's gaze. Through the trailer's window, they could see Lucifer's dark form, his head bent as if in conversation. Beside him was a smaller figure – a young, red cat that seemed about the age of the colt in cat years.

"Oh, that's Diavolo," MC said casually, returning to their scrapbooking. "He's Lucifer's friend."

Their friend blinked in confusion. "Diavolo? I don't remember you mentioning him before. When did you get another cat?"

MC paused, realizing they hadn't explained about Diavolo before. "Well, it's kind of a funny story. I didn't really 'get' him. One day, not long after we brought everyone home, Diavolo just showed up at our house. It was like he and Lucifer already knew each other."

"That's... strange," their friend said, eyebrows raised. "And your parents were okay with another pet?"

MC shrugged, a slight smile playing on their lips. "Diavolo isn't really our pet. He comes and goes as he pleases. But he and Lucifer are close, so he visits often. Sometimes I think they're having very serious conversations, but maybe that's just my imagination."

Their friend looked back at the trailer, where Lucifer and Diavolo seemed deep in discussion. "I've never seen animals act quite like that before. It's almost as if..."

They trailed off, shaking their head as if dismissing a silly thought. MC, however, had a knowing glint in their eye, as if they were privy to a secret that no one else could quite grasp.

"Sometimes," MC said softly, "I think there's more to them than meets the eye. But that's what makes them special, don't you think?"

Diavolo's ears perked up as he overheard MC and their friend talking about how he and Lucifer met. He turned to Lucifer, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia.

"Say, Lucifer, do you remember when we first met?" Diavolo asked, his tail swishing gently.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of fondness in his expression. "As if I could ever forget. Why do you bring it up?"

"Oh, just feeling a bit nostalgic, I suppose," Diavolo replied, settling down comfortably. "Hearing MC talk about it made me want to reminisce. Come on, think back with me."

Diavolo's mind drifted to that fateful night. "I was walking back to my hideout near the town college when shooting stars began to fall. It was such a spectacular sight that I couldn't resist going to the park for a better view. That's when I saw you at the top of the hill."

Lucifer snorted softly, the memory flooding back. "Ah yes, and then I galloped down that muddy hill. My former owner had dressed me in those ridiculously expensive accessories, and I was terribly uncomfortable. The mud certainly didn't help matters."

Diavolo chuckled. "Oh, I remember that! You were quite a sight, all muddy and annoyed. You even complained about the soil quality!"

"This wouldn't have happened if you guys improved the soil quality," Lucifer muttered, mimicking his past self.

"I was laughing so hard, I didn't even hear you," Diavolo admitted, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You certainly made an impression," Lucifer continued. "I was taken aback when you asked if I was lost. I brushed you off, of course."

Lucifer's tone softened. "I apologize for that. Even though I was indeed lost, I felt I couldn't trust a stray like you. Asking for help seemed beneath me at the time."

Diavolo nodded understandingly. "I remember how you tried to test me, attempting to provoke me into anger. But no matter what you did, it never worked."

"Yes, that was quite confusing," Lucifer admitted. "I couldn't understand why you remained so... cheerful."

Diavolo's whiskers twitched in a cat-like smile. "I was just really happy about making a new friend, even if you didn't see it that way at first."

Lucifer shook his mane slightly, a gesture almost like a human's nod. "And that's how you ended up leading me to your hideout."

Part 2:

The memory unfolded like a vivid scene before Lucifer and Diavolo's eyes...

Lucifer stepped cautiously into Diavolo's hideout, his hooves clopping on the makeshift floor. The space was surprisingly cozy for a stray's dwelling, with various scavenged items creating a homey atmosphere.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Diavolo announced cheerfully, his tail held high.

From a shadowy corner, a small bat descended, landing gracefully on a nearby perch. This was Barbatos, Diavolo's loyal companion.

Barbatos's keen eyes immediately noticed Lucifer's mud-caked accessories. "Those look quite uncomfortable," he observed. "Perhaps I could assist in cleaning them?"

Before Lucifer could respond, Diavolo nodded enthusiastically. "Excellent idea, Barbatos!"

"Now wait just a moment—" Lucifer began, but Barbatos was already deftly removing the muddy items with surprising skill for a bat.

Diavolo circled Lucifer, admiring his natural appearance. "You look much more comfortable without all that finery."

Lucifer tossed his mane, conflicted. While he did feel more at ease without the accessories, he wasn't about to admit it. "I feel exposed," he sniffed, attempting to sound insulted. "This is highly improper."

But Diavolo's friendly demeanor remained unshaken. "I understand it might feel strange, but please tolerate it for a little while. It won't take long to clean your things."

Lucifer's temper flared at Diavolo's unwavering pleasantness. "I demand you return my belongings at once!" he neighed indignantly.

Diavolo's expression turned thoughtful. "Consider this, Lucifer. Wouldn't it be better to return to your owner looking your absolute best? Clean and polished accessories would surely make a better impression than muddy ones."

Lucifer paused, his ears twitching as he processed Diavolo's words. As much as he hated to admit it, the red cat had a point. With a heavy sigh, he relented. "Fine. But," he added, turning to Barbatos, "don't you dare damage them further. They're worth more than this entire... hideout."

Barbatos bowed his head slightly. "I assure you, they will be handled with the utmost care. You have my word."

As Barbatos fluttered away with the accessories, Lucifer couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Annoyance at his current situation, yes, but also a grudging curiosity about these strange animals who had welcomed him so readily.

Little did he know, this encounter would be the beginning of a friendship that would change his life forever.

Part 3:

The scene continued to unfold in their shared memory...

Diavolo, his tail swishing with excitement, finally had the chance to properly introduce himself to Lucifer. "I'm Diavolo, and as you can see, we're near the town college. It's a fantastic location - we can actually listen in on the lessons!"

Lucifer snorted derisively. "Laughable. What could strays, or any animals for that matter, possibly need to learn from a human institution?"

Despite Lucifer's disdainful tone, Diavolo's friendly demeanor never wavered. He continued explaining the benefits of their location, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. Lucifer, for his part, kept interjecting with insults and skeptical remarks, but they seemed to roll off Diavolo like water off a duck's back.

As they talked, Barbatos returned, somehow managing to balance a tray of drinks and cake slices he'd procured from the college cafeteria. Lucifer eyed the offerings suspiciously, determined to find fault. But as he reluctantly sampled the food, he had to admit - if only to himself - that it was surprisingly good.

Diavolo watched Lucifer with barely contained joy, clearly thrilled to be spending time with him. This only served to increase Lucifer's confusion and irritation.

"Why exactly have you brought me here?" Lucifer asked brusquely, his patience wearing thin.

Diavolo's expression turned serious, though his eyes still sparkled with warmth. "I brought you here because I have a dream, Lucifer. A dream of a world where animals - strays and pets alike - and humans can truly understand each other and come together in harmony."

Lucifer's ears perked up in surprise. He found himself pondering Diavolo's words. 'If such a thing were possible, why hasn't anyone back home ever considered it?' he thought. A seed of doubt crept into his mind. 'Is Diavolo trying to deceive me? But to what end?'

Before Lucifer could voice any of these thoughts, Barbatos fluttered down beside them. "It's time," he announced cryptically.

Lucifer's brow furrowed. "Time for what, exactly?"

Diavolo stood, stretching in a very cat-like manner. "You'll see," he said with a mysterious smile. "Come with us, Lucifer. I promise, you won't regret it."

As they prepared to leave the hideout, Lucifer found himself torn between his ingrained skepticism and a growing curiosity. Despite his best efforts to remain aloof, he couldn't deny that Diavolo's passion was infectious. Whatever was about to happen, Lucifer realized he was, against all odds, looking forward to it.

Part 4:

Lucifer found himself in the college courtyard, surrounded by a diverse group of stray animals. Initially hesitant, he was surprised to find that the strays didn't judge him for his pedigree or former lifestyle. As he engaged in conversation, he grudgingly admitted to Barbatos, "This... isn't entirely unpleasant."

From the corner of his eye, Lucifer noticed Diavolo talking to a young stray dog, barely three years old. He watched, intrigued, as Diavolo gently directed the pup towards a nearby animal shelter. The care and consideration in Diavolo's actions didn't go unnoticed.

The next day, Diavolo accompanied Lucifer on his journey home. To the cat's surprise, Lucifer offered a compliment. "What you did last night... it was admirable."

Diavolo's eyes widened, but he quickly recovered, his tail swishing happily. As they walked, they discussed Diavolo's dream further. Though Lucifer still expressed skepticism, there was a newfound respect in his tone.

As they traveled, Lucifer began to recognize landmarks, but something felt off. "Have you been leading me a different way this entire time?" he asked, realization dawning.

Diavolo simply smiled mysteriously in response.

When they finally reached Lucifer's home, the horse turned to the cat. "I suppose... it wouldn't be terrible if we were to meet again," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Back in the present, Diavolo's eyes gleamed with the memory. "I still remember it as if it were yesterday," he mused. "You had such a beautiful spirit, Lucifer, even if you tried to hide it."

Lucifer snorted softly, a mix of embarrassment and fondness in his expression. His attention suddenly shifted as he caught sight of something outside the trailer. "Speaking of spirit," he said dryly, "I believe I need to show some of that to Mammon. He seems to have buried my brush again."

Indeed, outside the trailer, Mammon was cornered, his tail between his legs as he faced Lucifer's stern gaze.

"Come on!" He yelled annoyed despite his fear. "How many times do I got to tell you it was an accident?!"

Despite the dog's pleas and complaints, it was clear he was in for a lecture.

Diavolo chuckled, watching the scene unfold. "Some things never change, do they?" he said, his tone affectionate.

Lucifer sighed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "No, they certainly don't. But perhaps that's not entirely a bad thing."

After story Aka the chat the came with the card:

Comfort from the oldest brother:

As Diavolo made his exit, Mammon saw his chance and bolted towards the house. MC, who had been chasing after a stray photo carried by the wind, didn't see the dog coming. In a moment of chaos, MC tripped over Mammon, sending them both tumbling. The photo and the carefully crafted scrapbook landed in a nearby mud puddle with a disappointing splat.

Lucifer, witnessing the commotion, trotted over quickly. He gently nudged MC with his nose, helping them to their feet. MC patted Lucifer's neck gratefully, then looked forlornly at the mud-soaked scrapbook and photo.

"Thanks, Lucifer," MC said, sighing playfully but with a hint of genuine disappointment. "Looks like we'll have to print out new photos and start all over."

Sensing MC's distress, Lucifer guided them towards his trailer. Once inside, he positioned himself so MC could lean against his warm flank. The comfort of Lucifer's presence seemed to soothe MC's frustration, and they spent a few quiet moments together, MC's hand absently stroking Lucifer's mane.

After a while, MC's spirits lifted. They stood up, determination replacing disappointment. "Alright, time to find Mammon. He's definitely earned himself a bath before we start on the new scrapbook."

As if summoned by the word "bath," Mammon appeared, trying to slink past unnoticed. MC quickly scooped him up, ignoring his squirming and protests. "Come on, you muddy pup. Bath time!"

Mammon's whines and MC's gentle laughter faded as they headed towards the house. Lucifer watched them go, an amused gleam in his eye. As he turned back to the trailer, something caught his attention - the photo MC had been chasing.

Lucifer leaned down, examining the mud-splattered image. Despite the dirt, he could clearly make out the picture: it was of MC and himself, taken not long after MC had adopted them all. MC's arm was draped over his neck, both looking happy and content.

A warm feeling spread through Lucifer's chest as he gazed at the photo. His lips curled into what could only be described as a smile - an expression rarely seen on the usually stern horse.

In that moment, watching MC head to the house with a struggling Mammon, and looking at this cherished photo, Lucifer felt a deep sense of belonging. This odd, chaotic, loving family was his home now, and despite all his initial resistance, he wouldn't have it any other way.

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Another try at @deepperplexity 's Rickmas prompts. Time for some sweet Colonel Brandon <3

December 10: Snow Prints

Colonel Brandon x Female reader

_______________________________________________________

Christopher loved this time of year. Everything was covered by a blanket of soft snow, casting a peaceful spell over the countryside. It had snowed steadily the night before, and today the clouds were high and thin, muffling the sunlight into a cool glow. He was riding his horse across the foothills near Delaford when he saw the tracks of another horse crossing the hill ahead of him. Part of him was curious as to who the rider was. None of the neighbours he knew were much for winter rides. The snow prints continued ahead of him for a bit before they suddenly devolved into a flurry of hoof prints and displaced snow, and a distinctly person shaped dent in the snow. The unfortunate rider had clearly been thrown, and by the footprints had walked in the same direction as their runaway mount. Christopher saw the footprints and the drag marks of a winter cloak trail off down the hill. The rider must be unharmed enough to walk, but it was still a fair hike to any nearby houses. He urged his horse down the path of the tracks. He should check that they were alright, maybe needed help getting home.

It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the person ahead of him. Clad in a dark blue cloak with a hood pulled up over their head, trudging across the snow-covered field. The person turned when they heard Christopher approaching, pulling back the hood as they did so. It was a lady. Christopher was stunned as he looked at her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Locks of her hair had come loose from its style and curled softly either side of her face and her beautiful eyes shone with life. “Hello.” She said. Christopher mentally shook himself, “Hello Miss.” He swung down out of the saddle, and took a few steps towards her, “Are you alright? I saw the tracks up the hill.” “Oh. Yes, I’m alright.” She laughed softly, a bit embarrassed “My horse spooked. A bird flew up from the snow in front of him and I fell when he reared up. No real damage. Thank you for your concern though, Mr…” “Brandon,” He bowed his head, “Christopher Brandon, miss.” She smiled brighter at him, “Colonel Brandon? I believe you know my uncle and aunt, George and Eliza Coppersmith?” Christopher remembered his friends, the Coppersmiths telling him about their niece from London who would be visiting over the winter, “Yes, they did say their niece would be visiting. Although I hardly expected to run into you out here.” “I couldn’t resist taking a ride today. It gets so stuffy in London, and the snow today looked so clean and the air so fresh. But I haven’t ridden in a while, I think I’m a bit out of practice.” Christopher felt enchanted by the brightness of her smile and the bold way she spoke. But then he remembered that they were standing in the middle of a field, standing ankle deep in snow. “It’s quite a walk back to the Coppersmith estate. I can give you a ride back, if you are agreeable with riding double.” He offered. “It’s very kind of you, I accept.” In other circumstances, getting on a horse with a man you’d just me might not be a good idea. But you’d heard your uncle talking about Colonel Brandon, that he was a true gentleman of good character. Now having met the man, you felt that was not exaggerating.

Christopher helped you up to sit in front of him on the horse, one hand on the reigns and the other carefully placed on your waist to hold you steady, he set the horse at a walk towards your home. The two of you spoke softly as you made your way to and alone the winding road. You had never been this close to a man, other than at dances, and it was unlike anything you’d felt before. You were sat with your side resting against his chest, his strong arm around your back keeping you held safe. The feeling of being held like this stirred a warmth inside your chest. You looked up at him as you talked, he was a remarkable handsome man. His strong Romanesque features were countered by soft hazel eyes and his deep, rumbling voice wrapped you up in an embrace all its own. He made you feel relaxed and excited at the same time.

Far to soon, you thought, you arrived at your aunt and uncle’s house. As you approached the entrance, a young stable boy came hurrying out from the side of the house, “Miss!” He called excitedly, “We were worried, your horse came back ten minutes ago without you. We were heading out to look for you.” Christopher was helping you down from the horse and you immediately missed his closeness. “It’s alright, Toby, I’m…” before you could finish answering, your uncle came hurrying out. “Thank goodness, you’re safe. What happened? Are you harmed?” “I’m perfectly alright, Uncle. My horse spooked and threw me. Fortunately, Colonel Brandon found me and helped me home.” Your uncle reached out and shook Christopher’s hand in gratitude. “My heartfelt thanks, Brandon. I’m glad it was you that found her.” You ducked your head a little to hide your smile. You were also very glad he had found you. “It’s freezing out here,” Your uncle continued, “Won’t you come in, Brandon? Join us for some tea and warm up.” Chrisopher’s eyes looked to you quickly before accepting his offer.

After your aunt had equally fussed over you and you’d quickly changed out of your snow crusted riding clothes, the four of you passed a good part of the afternoon in the drawing room. You and Christoper kept ending up in conversations of your own, something your aunt and uncle couldn’t help but notice and feel happy about. It was getting late in the afternoon when Christopher left, needing to head back to Delaford before it got dark. You walked with him to the door, wanting to stay in his company as long as you could. He stopped by the door, fidgeting nervously with his hat in his hands, “I’m so very glad to have met you today.” “As am I.” Still fidgeting with his hat, he said, “I’m hosting a Christmas party on the 21st. I’ve already invited your aunt and uncle. I would be honoured if you would be my guest.” “I’d like that very much.” Christopher’s smile was the most beautiful you’d ever seen, “I was also wondering if you would permit me to call on you again?” You felt your cheeks warm. You’d been so hoping he would ask. “That would be wonderful. Would you perhaps come to lunch on Wednesday?” Christopher gently lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, “Until then, my Dear.”

________________________________________________________

(Ended a bit abruptly but I was having trouble trying to reach a good ending)

[harrisonstories]

Above: A current photo of the Row Barge Pub in Henley, Inbetween: George Harrison smiling in a pub in 1978 (whether it's the Row Barge or not is unknown) Photo by: Olivia Harrison, Below: George and Olivia Harrison with Dot Mitchell and her husband Norman at the Remenham Club in Henley, mid-1970s.

George Harrison + The Row Barge Pub

"We [Palin, Eric Idle, and George Harrison] all walked down to the local pub -- where we drank Brakspear’s Henley Ales and played darts." - Michael Palin, Oct. 1975, Diaries 1969-1979

"George heard that it was the birthday of Dot Mitchell, then the landlady at The Row Barge, his local public house. He called her to one side and, teasingly, told her to hold out her hand and close her eyes. Then, he dropped three perfect, impossibly valuable rubies into her hand. ‘Have a nice birthday,’ he told her.” - Eric Idle (1978)

"There’s a photo of George on the wall with Edward Heath -- he signed it to the guy who owns the place, 'To Norman, a little fellow everybody likes -- George and little Eddie'. They have a D. Horse sticker on the counter. A bit later this older couple came in, Phyllis & Tom. We went over and sat with them all night [...] They said that after Dhani was born George came in a lot and was so happy and proud and was telling everyone about him [...] [Phyllis] said she saw George just before Xmas carrying a Christmas tree on his back up the hill to F. Park -- some Hindu! [...] George had this hat on once and she said she liked it, and he gave it to her! She has a photo of her dancing with him that she said she’d show us next time we came." - WALH fanzine issue #25 (1979) [x]

"George and I had gone down to the pub that night to relax and get a little drunk. It turned out to be Norman’s birthday, so he closed the bar a little early to celebrate, and we stayed along with a few of Norman’s friends. After a few rounds, someone produced a guitar, gave it to George, and George proceeded to play every Beatles song he could remember." - Neil Larsen, Circus Weekly (April 1979) [x]

“George himself was a generous and intelligent man who suffered no fools, and he was always very private. He used to enjoy a drink at the Row Barge pub in Henley but he didn’t go into the town as much after John Lennon was shot.” - George Rob (Friar Park stonemason) [x]

"So my friend Nicole told me a story of how she used to work in the pub where George Harrison would bike to regularly and how one christmas instead of tipping all of the waitresses there like usual he bought every single one of them a small diamond necklace. They were all so stunned and thankful and oh my god so happy and he hugged them all and he said his wife helped him pick them out. And oh my god how can you not love this man." - niceboulder [x]

"I was in the pub one night [in 1986/87] -- as you do -- I got talking to the landlady behind the bar, and I go, 'Is that George Harrison's house across the road?' She goes 'Yeah. Oh, he does come in here occasionally.' I'm just [sarcastically] yeah 'course he does, kind of thing.

So I was talking, and some of the people I was with were talking, and suddenly this bloke comes in. Bit scruffy-looking at first. I looked at him and thought, 'I know him. I know him. I really do know him.' He was polite. He acknowledged everybody. He just said something like, 'Good evening, all,' and he walked into the room in the back. Now this room at the back, nobody else could go in. It was a private room.

So I looked at the landlady, and she goes, 'Yeah that was George Harrison,' and I go, 'What, really?' She goes 'Yeah'.

Then many years later after George had died, apparently, he left some money in his will -- I don't know how true this story is, but I think he left something in his will to the landlady of this pub because she kept that room at the back just for him. Nobody else could go in. People with him could go in, but members of the public couldn't. I think it was like George's little hideaway where he could just be himself, and obviously having to go across the road to the pub sort of thing probably made him feel a bit more normal? If that's the right word." - Beatle Dave [x]

[bookwormgamerweeb]

Vampire Hunter D x fem reader

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

WARNING

There is talk about religion and pedophilia and grooming view at your own risk

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I reload my pistol, firing in every direction killing the bastards one by one.

The job was messier than what I'm used to, at least with the carnage people who want me dead will think a bit before attacking, hunters especially.

Being born a dhamphire was very difficult my father human, mother vampire.My childhood actually not a bad one my father loved me and I had friends but as I got into teen years everything slowly went down hill one of the ways was when the Sherif of village came to my home in the middle of the night just to kill my dad, turns out the bishop sentenced him to death for no reason at all.

Most of the reason I got in this line of work is so I could kill him, his disgusting.Unlike the priest the bishop would hang around me a little too much, my dad noticed this and told me to say no if he asks me to do anything while we are alone.I ofcourse followed what he said but doing so would lead to his death . . .

FLASHBACK

I remember it clearly it was a normal day me andy friends were playing and feeding the horses by the church and he came out I hadn't seen him coming to us but my friends did

they ran

He asked to help him clean the church, I said yes.I made sure to always put distance between me and him but he always had a reason to come closer to close .I was forced to stay till dawn,I was finishing up cleaning the stairs I bent to grab "You always tempt me"he whispers caressing my thigh,a chill runs down my back "I must go my father is probably worried", I try to walk past him but he grabbed my shoulder squeezing my arm."He won't be worried your with me", he whispers again but closer in my ear.Something in me gave me courage to push him away and run out of the church fear of him following me home as the sun seems to set faster and faster.

I never told father but I knew he knew something was wrong so he went to Bishop and he didn't like it (the bishop).

After my father's death I ran away knowing no one had my back besides from my father.

PRESENT

At that age I knew I was a dhamphire trying to learn how to control my powers was difficult since there was no one like me so I opted for weapons my favourite being my pistol.But that was 854 years ago, throughout that time I have made friends with many people but no one has stayed with me, I don't know if that was a blessing in disguise or not since I'm not that comfy around people since I left my village especially men.

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I'm very inconsistent but there might be pt2, kinda got the bishop thing from Castlevania but I hope u enjoyed it byeeee

[babeyvenus]

My Future

Derek Hale x OC

Samantha, Stiles and Scott are always joking about the impossible. Who wouldn't when your best friend's dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills? All jokes stop when they realize the impossible is indeed possible.

Chapter 63: We Hear You

Regardless of how he was feeling, Stiles sat on a bench, keeping himself from crying. He shouldn't have to. He wasn't gone. Not yet.

He felt the bench shift and saw an old woman turned to him, smiling. "I'm waiting for a train."

Stiles nodded a bit. "Yeah, it's probably running late.", he mumbled.

"I'm going to see my grandchildren.", the lady smiled widely, her manner surprisingly making Stiles' smile as well.

The small woman laid her shaky hand on his shoulder. "Who are you going to see?", she asked.

"Uh," his jaw shifted as he swallowed. "No one."

The lady furrowed her brow, confused. Stiles looked at her confused and before he could ask what was wrong, the intercom came on, a voice speaking through it. "The following stops have been canceled, Hollatine, Batten," Stiles got up and took a few steps towards the speaker of the intercom. "Bay Burry, Deer Ridge, Red Oak Trenton, Anderson, King Springs."

Once the calls were done, Stiles' eyes tracked the wires that ran across the ceiling, wrapping themselves around different poles of each speaker.

He followed where all the wires gathered, moving into a room he hadn't seen. Peter's eyes followed him as he leaned on a pillar, his arms crossed against his chest. "Intercom.", he said. and Stiles glanced at him. "Maybe a radio?" Stiles looked back, going up to the door and opened it, walking in with Peter behind him.

Stiles looked at all the controls of the radio. Something he was familiar with in his jeep.

He frowned, his eyes widening. He has a radio in his jeep that connects to the sheriff's station.

"If I could fix this to contact the sheriff's station, I could get someone to get us out.", Stiles said, already touching up on some stuff.

"Your theory is ridiculous.", Peter spoke as he paced behind him.

Stiles noticed a black wire was broken. "Magnetic disturbances and a few pixelated photos doesn't mean that you can use a ham radio to communicate across a supernatural barrier.", Peter said, making Stiles look at him with an unimpressed face before the boy reached down, grabbed both ends of the cord and focused on putting it together.

"Ghost Riders can't be seen, heard, or remembered. You really think they're gonna leave a gadget around that you can use to call your friends?", Peter asked.

Once Stiles got the two ends together and twisted them, he turned the dial on the radio which caused a loud high-pitched feedback to come through. Both him and Peter covered their ears, groaning.

On the other side of the world, Sam, Scott, and Malia wince, trying to block out the high pitch whine coming from the jeep.

"How'd you turn it on?", Malia asked. Sam frowned. "I don't have the keys.", she said and rushed to open the driver's side door.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "A radio?" How had she not noticed that before?

While Stiles was trying to figure out the ham radio, trying new things, Peter sat relaxed. "Take your time. No rush. Only thing at stake is any evidence of our existence… soon to be lost… forever.", he mumbled.

"Okay, not helping.", Stiles retorted, turning a dial on causing and with Peter's sensitive hearing, he heard the horses, his attention snapping towards the door.

"Shit.", Peter muttered before running up to the machines and unplugged them all.

Before Stiles could ask, Peter snuck them out before the Ghost Rider could find them. The both of them hid behind the one pillar, watching the rider go in with his gun and after a bit, came back out, visibly looking angry at the passengers.

Peter leaned in over Stiles's shoulder, whispering. "In case you're keeping count, that's twice I've saved your life today."

Stiles frowned before following the eldest Hale.

Scott searched the jeep with Lydia and Sam. The noise that came from the radio suddenly stopped. Scott looked up. "Why'd it stop?", Malia asked.

"It doesn't matter." Lydia stated, trying to push on the Master Switch, but it wasn't working. She sighed, "There has to be a reason."

Scott sniffed, looking around the jeep. "What…?" He mumbled, closing his eyes to breathe in the rush of familiar scents.

"You caught a scent?" Lydia perked up. "Yeah. Uh….ours… mine, yours, all four of ours.", Scott said.

"Mine?" Malia asked, confused. "I've never been in this Jeep before."

"Neither have I.", Scott shook his head. 

"Well for some reason, I was in there but I still don't know why.", Sam said. Lydia spoke up. "Yes, you guys have been in here. You just don't remember it."

"I thought we were done with that.", Malia said before glancing at Scott who cleared his throat.

"Parrish checked the VIN number, though. There's no record of the owner."

"Well, the jeep is here somehow. Are we just gonna ignore the fact that I somehow magically appeared in it?", Sam emphasized with wide eyes.

They looked at her with unsure faces. "Sam, he can't be real. Maybe you just sleepwalked your way inside.", Malia said.

Sam frowned at the girl. "I don't sleep walk. I never have. And how could I have gotten in the jeep, there's no signs of aggressive entry. I didn't break a handle or a window, and it was locked."

"Well we might have some type answers.", Lydia said, holding a registration form. Scott reached for it, grabbed it and read it. "This is from '96. And there's no name."

"But there's an address.", Lydia pointed out and Sam moved closer to see the address. "129 Woodbine Lane. That's–"

"The sheriff's house.", Lydia said, sadly. She took a deep breath before readying herself. "I need to go there."

Sam and Scott frowned. "By yourself?", Sam asked. Lydia nodded. "I feel like I need to."

The three gave her a nod, watching her leave the jeep and ran into her car, leaving the school's parking lot.

Sam got into the jeep, moving to the passenger side and sighed. With glossy eyes, she settled into the seat, looking down at her hands.

Where she sat felt so… real. It felt normal. She didn't feel out of place. Visions flashed through her mind once more.

She was in the passenger seat. In a dress. She went to the winter formal? She remembers that.

She remembered waking up, covered in dirt. She remembers seeing the light scar over her eyelid but never questioned why it was there in the first place.

She turned to the back seats, moving back there as she looked at the front seats, another vision flashing through her mind.

She remembers being outside the sheriff's station, watching the receptionist. Two guys were in the front seats but she can't remember their faces.

She remembers a man with a black leather jacket and a boy with a red flannel shirt talking. Who was the man? Why wasn't he here? Was he affected too? Did he know Stiles?

Moments later, Lydia had shown up and they watched as the guy from earlier backed his tow truck in front of the jeep and got out to face the teenagers. "We already paid you. I gave you all of my money for that drop fee.", Scott said.

"Yeah, I dropped it, all right? Now I'm picking it up again.", the man said.

"How much?" Lydia asked, getting into her purse. "I'll write you a check."

The man stopped her. "It's not about how much.", he said. "They want it out of here, okay? It's not up to me."

"Well, this vehicle isn't abandoned. You saw me in it!", Sam exclaimed as she stepped in front of the jeep. 

The guy scoffed, a slight smile coming to his face. "Either you move, or I move you. I'm hookin' this thing up and I am towing it away."

Sam glared at the man. "You're not touching this damn jeep.", she growled.

Scott noticed the girl's nails had gotten longer and darker and before he could say anything, the back of the tow truck squealed and gained the teenagers' attention, seeing Malia holding the hook. 

As she held it up, she yanked it off of the wire, making the guy turn around to take notice. "Your truck's broke.", she said, nonchalantly handing him the metal hook.

In shock, he grabbed it with slow hands. Malia grinned as the man left. 

Scott looked at Sam who had yet to calm down, and grabbed both her hands. "You need to relax. Breathe.", he said, softly making her fists clench before helping them unclench as he takes a breath and softly lets it out.

He had her repeat the motions, slowly calming her down and saw her nails had shortened once more.

"How'd you know to do that?", Sam asked. Scott smiled. "I think you taught me."

In the train station, Ghost Riders gathered, making the passengers hurtle into mass hysteria. Stiles jumped over a bench, crouching down behind it and Peter did the same, watching everything unfold.

Stiles saw one of the Ghost Riders drop a Beacon Hills Lacrosse player and others. "This place is really starting to fill up.", Peter muttered.

One Lacrosse player got up taking off her helmet and another girl was near, seeing her on the floor. "Gwen?" Gwen glanced up, seeing the other girl who she seemed to know. "Gwen!"

"Phoebe?", Gwen hugged her and Phoebe hugged back. "Oh, my god, you're here!"

Stiles frowned as he watched the interaction. "Wait a second. That girl — I know that girl. Her name is Gwen. She plays lacrosse." 

He looked at Peter before looking at the Ghost riders. "How long has this been going on?", Stiles whispered to Peter. 

Peter glanced at the Arrivals and Departures board, seeing how Beacon Hills was listed first and he turned back, realizing what was happening. "This isn't a train station, this is a way station.", he said, now frustrated. "It's not gonna stop."

He looked back at the board once more. This was it. Beacon Hills was going to be a big hit within a few days and there wasn't much they could do. Peter sighed harshly as he placed his forehead in the side of the bench. 

"What is it?", Stiles asked, noticing Peter's sudden behavior. "What are those places? Bannack? Canaan? I know you know something."

"We gotta get out of here. Nobody is safe.", Peter said.

"Yeah, in here?", Stiles asked, sarcastically.

"In Beacon Hills. Your friends, your family, everyone. Everyone that you've ever known.", Peter said, crouching. "They're gonna be taken.", he said before hurrying off into the tunnel.

"Where are you going?", Stiles called out, before following him.

He caught up with Peter, panting. "What did you see up there? The towns. What did it mean?"

"I just told you. They're never gonna stop.", Peter said. 

Stiles frowned. "Okay, so what's the plan then?"

"I'm goin' through the portal.", Peter simply said.

"Wait, wait, wait.", Stiles stopped him. "No one gets through the portal. You said that yourself."

"No human can. But I'm better than a human, remember? I'll heal.", Peter reminded him.

Stiles moved to stand in front of Peter. "If you survive, you have to find my friends, okay? You have to tell them about us, 'cause they're not gonna remember me, so you have to tell them that I'm here—"

Peter cut him off. "Stiles, lemme make this perfectly clear. When I survive—if I survive, I'm going to get as far away from Beacon Hills as I possibly can," Peter told him.

"And, if I happen upon one of your below-average friends and it doesn't inconvenience me, I might mention your name.", he says and walks around him.

"Yeah? What about Malia?", Stiles asked, making Peter come to a stop. "Even after all the shitty things you've done, I know you're doing this for her. You're risking being incinerated for her. And I'm okay with that."

Peter turned to Stiles promptly, only to get cut off by the sound of neighing in the distance. "You need to stall them.", he told Stiles.

"W-What? How?", he asked, knowing he didn't stand a chance against those things.

"Use your head.", Peter said, rushing to hide behind a pillar.

Peter shifted his foot and felt something hard underneath it. He looked down and saw Stiles' keys to the Jeep. With a frown, he picked them up, watching as Stiles threw a bench into the middle of the tracks, which slowed the horses down a little.

After the one passed, Peter jumped from the platform, grasping onto the back of the horse, fighting with the rider on the way out. 

Stiles watched the interaction, a weird sense of relief flooded his body as he saw Peter go through before looking at the rider who looked up at him.

Before Stiles could run, the rider cracked his whip, wrapping it around Stiles' neck, and pulled him down to the tracks before leaving through the portal.

Stiles groaned as his back hit the wall behind him, rubbing his sore neck. His eyes widened as he saw a light shine from his wrist, seeing the illuminated crescent moon on the corner of his wrist.

He remembers that Sam had linked him to her whenever something went wrong. Either she got the message, or something was wrong on the other end.

He hoped it was the former.

The four that sat in the jeep, almost lulled to sleep, had jumped at the loud, ground shaking roar they had heard.

Once it stopped, they looked at each other. "What the hell was that?", Sam asked.

"You guys heard that too?", Malia asked. Lydia frowned. "I think all of Beacon Hills heard it."

"Who is it?", Scott asked, looking at both Sam and Malia.

"I'm not sure, but I think I recognize it.", Malia said hesitantly.

"It does sound scarily familiar.", Sam said. Impatiently, Lydia snapped at them. "Go!"

The three rushed out of the jeep, the two following the burnt scent while Sam followed them.

"Hey, any luck?", Scott asked, finding Sam and Malia in a small clearing.

"No.", Malia said. "He hasn't roared again. I've got a scent, but…"

"There's something wrong with it," Scott finished for her, knowing what she meant.

They heard another loud roar, weakening as they got closer. After a moment of looking, they spotted a charred body on the ground.

They could barely recognize the body but Sam paused as she saw it. Another vision flashed as she remembered red eyes. She remembers being chased into the woods.

"I hear a heartbeat.", Malia said, glancing between Scott and Sam.

"Who is that?", Scott asked.

"I don't know, but I know the scent. Even through the barbecue.", she told him.

Sam frowned at her. "You don't remember who it is?", she asked as she knelt by the body.

Malia frowned in confusion and kneeled at Peter's other side. Scott looked around for any signs of fire. "How do you think he got here? There's no tracks, no fire…", he said.

Peter's eyes flashed open, the light blue the only color against the black remains of his body. Malia and Sam gasped and flinched away.

"Oh, my God!", Malia exclaimed, looking up at Scott. "Peter!"

Scott came and knelt near Peter's head, still confused. "Who's Peter?"

"Peter Hale — my dad.", Malia clarified.

"Peter….?", Sam muttered as she looked at the man before looking in his eyes. Her memories of the man flooded her brain, making her gasp softly.

She remembered his snarkiness, his sarcasm, even him defending her and vice versa. She especially remembers him biting her. "He bit me…"

Scott nodded. "Me too.", he muttered, remembering every moment specifically with Peter. "How could I forget him?", he asked, looking down at the man.

"How did I forget him?", Malia asked, frowning. She glanced down, seeing Peter trying to move his hand. "He has something."

Peter tried his best to speak, but he couldn't. His wheezes spoke for him. Sam quickly grabbed Peter's hand, shocked at the pain she absorbed.

It seemed to be helping him heal faster, but still. Where had she learned to do that?

Groaning at the pain she absorbed, she watched as her arms darkened as she looked at the charred man.

Scott and Malia helped, wincing in pain as well, helping the eldest Hale ease into relief as he teetered his way in and out of consciousness.

Malia checked his hand again, and she grabbed what he was holding.

"What is it?", Sam asked. The three frowned as she held up what he held tightly.

It was a set of car keys.

Before any of them could say anything, a bright light shined in Scott and Malia's face as they looked at Sam.

Both of them looked at the girl in shock, while Sam looked at them in confusion. "What?", she asked.

Scott hurriedly pulled out his phone and showed Sam her reflection, showing that a bright crescent moon was shining on her forehead.

Her eyes widened. What the hell…?

A quick vision flashed once more. She saw the jeep toppled over with fire near it. Why was the jeep toppled over? What happened? Who was in it?

She shook her head, watching the crescent moon dim into a black print now. She pulled her hood over her head, covering it and looked at the two in front of her. "We gotta get him help."

They nodded, looking at the man who slowly passed out. It was easier to pick him up now, helping him to the hospital.

After Malia went with her father to the hospital, Scott, Lydia and Sam sat in the Jeep. Lydia sat in the driver's seat, holding up the key to the car, looking at it intently.

The one question bothered Sam. Why did Peter have the keys to the jeep in the first place?

Lydia put in the key and turned it, only for the Jeep engine to sputter, refusing to start.

"This damn jeep.", Sam sighed.

Lydia huffed before trying again, pressing on the gas pedal repeatedly while twisting the ignition. The car sputtered, but it wasn't enough to turn on.

"Don't flood it.", Scott told her.

Lydia looked at him confused. "Do you even know what that means?"

Scott shook his head. "Not really." Sam looked at Lydia's foot. "Ease up a little."

Letting out a breath, Lydia turned the key one last time, suddenly hearing the rumbling of the Jeep. The headlights of the car shined the graveled ground below them, making them let out relieved laughs.

However, that didn't bring back any memories. They got one thing done, but they were far from finished. "Now what?", Sam frowned.

"No clue—", Scott was cut off by the radio in the car cutting on loudly, the static hurting their ears.

"Hello?"

Scott reached to turn it down, but Lydia quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Wait, wait, wait, wait!" she said quickly, her eyes wide. The car went silent.

"Hello?", they heard. "Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

Their eyes widened.

Lydia grabbed the radio and held it to her mouth, shaking before she spoke. "S-Stiles?", she asked. They waited in anticipation for an answer.

Scott leaned in close as well. "Stiles? Are you there?"

"Scott? Lydia? Is that you?", Stiles asked, the relief in his tone clear.

Everyone's face brightened into relieved smiles. "Oh, my God, Stiles! We can hear you!", Lydia exclaimed. "I told you guys he was real!", Sam exclaimed.

"Sammy!? Oh, my God. You know me? You guys remember me?", he asked, excited.

Lydia hesitated again, looking at Scott and Sam. "Stiles, is this… you? Is this actually you?", she asked.

"Yeah.", he said, sniffling. "Listen to me. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"

"You said…", Lydia closed her eyes, faintly remembering his voice echoing in her mind. "You said, 'Remember I love you.'"

Stiles was quiet, but where he stood he was relieved, more hopeful than he was before. Peter had done it.

Sam grabbed the radio from Lydia's hand. "Stiles, where are you? Are you okay?", he heard.

He smiled. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you guys. Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. You guys have to remember me."

"Everything's in bits and pieces for me, but I'm remembering.", Sam says with a smile. "Did you see the moon? Did you get it?", Stiles asked.

"The moon?", Sam asked, confused. "You made a link to me whenever something was wrong, whether I was sick or hurt.", Stiles explained quickly. "It's a crescent moon on my wrist."

Sam frowned as she realized what he meant. "We saw it on my forehead. That was you?"

Stiles nodded, though she couldn't see him. "Yeah, it's a long story, but–"

"Where are you?", Lydia questioned.

"We're comin' to get you.", Scott said quickly.

"No, no, no. You can't. You won't be able to find me.", Stiles told them quickly.

"Stiles, what – what are you talking about?", Scott asked, shaking his head. "Just tell us where you are, and w-we'll come and—"

"Look, just remember this," Stiles interrupted him, rushing. "Canaan. Okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan."

Then the radio cut off on his end, sending the three into unsettled silence. "The Nogitsune…", Sam said, suddenly, making Scott and Lydia look at her in shock.

"I remember hearing his voice. He sounded so scared and alone… it was so sudden. He kept hanging up and we couldn't find him.", Sam said, her eyes glossing over.

Scott placed a hand on her arm. "We're gonna find our best friend." He looked at Lydia who looks at him with glistening eyes. "We're close.", he says, nodding at her.

[domes]

part, 01

Prompt: "Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate"

This has happened a few times before usually on that little bit of road that separates towns, the one with the field that sometimes floods, sometimes has horses, that onetime had a grass fire that I called in before anyone else. Damn though I wasn’t listening to a podcast last I remember and I filled up just after work and now I’m down to a quarter of a tank, that’s like three hundred miles. My phone lights up with a notification, -- enter passcode to enable face detect-- “where the fuck are you iv started walking”

I pull into the next parking lot and its fucking huge. Wait, shit is this the ski hill? I stop the car and text back, “I’m sorry something came up, or happened I lost time and wound up driving to the ski hill where we watched the last percieved? metior showwer”

The contact is typing a response ellipses come and go four times before, “what do you mean lost time ru ok” I respond, “I’m fine just weird”

As I wait for a response The parking lot light above me pulses then winks out. It’s a little unnerving because it’s so dark in the mountains, so I drive over to the next lit area and by the time I put the car in park this light pulses and goes out too. Then the car turns completely off -- and then my phone.

I get out and have to use the actual key hole to lock the car. I head toward the lodge forgetting for a second that it’s the one from that horror movie. My phone boots and I grab a spooky photo of the lodge, and check my texts. “Are u headed back? Should i order some dinner” I stop walking to text back, “car turned off I’m going to see if anyone is at the lodge and can give me a jump… if i don’t get slaughtered first” I attach the photo of the lodge, and my phone dims and turns off. I spin around but can’t see anything as my eyes adjust after looking at my phone.

I want to run up to the lodge but only break into a light jog, the altitude is a bit much. When I get there the lodge is completely dark save for some path lights, around back there are no cars in the employee parking spots, but I notice a lit window just up the hill. A gate along the way is chained closed with an open lock.

When I reach what must be the caretakers cabin I can see all the way down to the parking lot and the lights are back on, including my car’s headlights. I knock and there is a long pause before the door opens a crack.

“uhh sorry, my car needs a jump, I think?” The caretaker hands me a card for a towing company and shuts the door. I knock again and tell him my story through an open window, hoping to elicit enough sympathy to get a direct jump start and maybe someone to come back to the lot with me. “It was so weird, the parking lot lights went out, then my phone, then another light and my car all shut” the door slings open and he peaks over my shoulder, “Funny what are you one of Jake’s friends? You filming this for his cringe ass TikTok?” I look back at where he seems to be looking and as I do the lights around the lodge wink out. He pulls me into the cabin.

[darkherolovercroissant]

Retrouvaille

(n.) the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery.

Arthur Morgan x Fem Reader

Warnings: me. I should be the only warning. Jk, a little bit of angst, but a fluffy ending.

Library

The snowy mountains were hell, somehow the gang had managed to find a way out though. Now they were in a new camp called horseshoe overlook, which Hosea of course knew about.

After the gang was dismissed, Arthur rode out to find food for the gang’s stew and was taking in a brief moment of silence. Away from the bickering from Dutch and the aggravation from Ms. Grimshaw and out of the way for when John makes Abigail mad so she resorts to violence.

———

He left for food an hour ago, but In reality, he’s just sitting by a rock letting the sun warm his face. His horse laying down beside him and has drifted off, his attention now on the carriage that stopped on the road. He watched as the door opens and a woman jumps out. Her dress, which was too fancy for this environment dragging in the wet mud as she begins to climb up the small hill.

It’s only when she starts to get closer, that her features become more clear to Arthur. He gets up to greet the woman as she advanced quickly.

“And here I thought I’d never see you again. My the lord has been kind to me this morning.” She smiled

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” Arthur softly smiled

“Do you really not remember m-, well the last time we seen each other, we were only kids so it makes sense you don’t recognize me.” She blushes

“I’m sorry?”

“Arthur it’s me. Y/n, did Dutch run your head into the ground that you don’t even remember me?”

That’s when it comes rushing back to Arthur. The young girl Arthur was once best of friends with, back when no one wanted to be due to his father. The young girl he had the biggest crush on when he was a boy, which earned him light teasing from his mother.

“Well I’ll be damned. You only got more beautiful with time, unlike me it seems.” He laughed

Lightly swatting his arm, you scoff and continued to smile at him.

“Please, I may not agree with your lifestyle, but hard work looks well on you, Morgan. Builds character.”

He blushed and tipped his head down, his hat covering his red cheeks. His heart had been beating quickly for a bit now. It’s kind of funny how life throws people into your life at random times, but to catch up with someone makes all the separation worth it.

“Miss! We need to go!”

The pair turn to see a poor boy waiting by the carriage.

Arthur takes your hand and walks you back to the carriage, while trying not to blush as you smile down to him once you step in the carriage.

“If you’re ever in Saint Denis, please come and find me. You can normally find me in the theatre or even in the town square. It’s near the outskirts, but it’s nice to be away from that husband of mine.” You smile

Arthur laughs and waves as the carriage rides off. He had never had the best luck with love it seems. With him loving you as a child and not knowing what to do about it, from loving Mary and unfortunately loosing her, to loving a younger woman named Eliza and having a son, but loosing both. This man was destined to be heartbroken it seems, but in a weird way he accepted it and just kept moving forward.

————

This city was horrible to say the least. The people half as bitter as the air due to the pollution. He just wanted to find a way to Bronte, but no luck was coming his way until a group of kids promised to take him for a small fee.

He was being distracted while the other snuck up behind and sliced his satchel from him. Only stopping in his tracks when a hand came across his cheek.

The kid looks up to see you standing with a very angry expression.

“Is this what you’ve been doing? Stealing from others? Shame on you. Now hand him his things back and move towards the docks. I heard they had work to do.”

“Yes, Ms. Y/n. We’re just going now” he apologizes as the two kids run off.

“You got some pull in the city if the kids are afraid of you.” Arthur chuckles

“Married to one of the higher figures comes in handy you see. People know not to cross you and if they do, it’s only a short time before they’re paid a visit.” You huff

“I don’t suppose you can help me, I’m looking for said higher figures. I hope you of all people will be generous to give me a decent tour.” He sighs

You smile before lightly pulling him along down the sidewalk.

“Who are we looking for, I’ll do my best to help you.”

“A man named Angelo Bronte. Where does he live?”

You huff in annoyance as you drag him further down the sidewalks before stopping across from a big manor.

“This is where he lives. Tell me, what has that fool gotten himself into this time.”

“He has a kid that belongs to our group. His name is J-”

“Jack Marston.” You cut him off

“You know him?”

“I’m unfortunately married to the man who took him. Tell whoever came with you, to meet me here. I wish to have a chat with my husband as well.” You were fuming

———

“Well I’ll admit, finding a needle in a haystack is a hell of a lot easier than I expected. Dutch Van Der Linde, at your service m’lady” the older one introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you sir. And John, I’m sorry that this has happened, but don’t worry, the young boy was never harmed. I make sure he’s been taken care of quite well. He often joins me on walks outside in the city.” You smile

John felt a bit better knowing such a kind person was looking after his child.

“Now, follow me. You’ll have better luck getting in with me there.” You take a deep breath before walking across the street.

“Mrs. Bronte, welcome back. Who are they?”

“Future business opportunities for my husband. Please they mean no harm.” You assured

You all head up the steps into the manor and walk into one of the living areas where a man is sitting on the couch.

———

“You do something for me and you’ll get the boy.” He smiled

“No, You will give him the boy now. Business is business, but children are off limits. Jack isn’t some bargaining chip, so he will be handed over immediately.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my business?” Angelo looks over at you in disgust.

“Someone who’s had enough of your crap. He’s just a boy, so give him back.” You deadpan

“Fine. If it’ll get you to shut up, but I won’t forget this little stunt of yours.”

As the men walk outside with the boy, you grab Arthur’s arm and pull him back lightly.

“Please. You have to do something about him. I know we were just kids, but I will do anything to get away from him. Arthur, I beg of you to save me from this life.” Your eyes were glossy.

Arthur takes your hands in his and gives them a light squeeze.

“I promise to do the right thing, just give me some time to make a plan. Then you’ll be free, I promise. I just need some time.” He smiled

You nod as you step back from him and watch him leave once again. Just hope it doesn’t take as long as it did the first time to see him again.

————

You cower in the one room as gunshots and yelling were all you heard. From what you heard from those who started shouting, Bronte was a dead man. And typical fashion of your husband, he hid and feared for his life, but neglected to even tell you about the men that seek his head.

So here you are, hiding in a closet downstairs while bullets penetrated the walls and air. Wishing they find that snake of a husband and kill him quick. As the yelling is muffled and and the footsteps disappear, you hesitate to emerge from the room. However you needed fresh air, so you make a break for it. Only to turn the corner to meet the end of Arthur’s pistol.

“Please, I don’t know anything. Please let me go.” You beg

Arthur froze and only came to his senses after you spoke. Putting his pistol away, he grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him as whistles and shouting could be heard.

“Your window to freedom is open, let’s go.” He shouts over the loudness outside.

“About time. The fancy life isn’t for me.” You laugh to kill your nerves

“Can you shoot?” He asks as you duck down

“Yes, but I have never been able to hit anything.” You frown

“Then stay down and let me handle it, darling.”

————

“So, is this the life you wanted?” Arthur teases as he sits beside you on the front step.

From where you both sat, you could see the horses grazing in the fields with the cows and the little kids running around in the grass by the garden.

“This is exactly the life I wanted. No corsets and no annoying rich men. No god awful parties full of weak alcohol and fake friends. Just peace and quiet and the family we created.” You smile

“I’m glad. Only a few years in the making, but the end result is always worth it.” Arthur smiled

“Hard work looks great on us, Arthur.”

“That it does, Darling.”

[capricorn-the-goat]

Time revealing his fierce deity form fanfic:

—————————————————————————

Time felt the sharp wind hit his chest. He gazed out into the woods, and felt his heart drop. They were surrounded.

they had been cornered, an obvious trap. They were trapped along a U shaped hill, forest in front of them while their backs were to the hill. Monsters poured in from the forest.

dozens of monsters surrounded the reincarnated heroes. Their body dripped black blood, but it could have easily been mistaken for a trick of the mind as the cuts quickly regenerated. Time counted twenty four in total: giant bokoblins and lizalfos, large lion-horse creatures the traveler called Lynels, and dozens of armored warriors who towered above all of them. And in the distance, the sound of metal clinking alerted them to the beasts Wild had once faced.

Time looked out into his comrades. Twilight and Sky supported themselves on the same tree, as Wind and the four Fours stood there as their bodies gave out. Legend and Warriors were barely standing, their eyes glossed over in pain and exhaustion. Hyrule was trying his best to heal them, but he needed healing himself.

Wild stood ahead of them all, sword in hand. He shouldn’t be able to fight, he shouldn’t be able to stand, for Hylia’s sake he shouldn’t even be alive with the wounds he has. But as he stood forward, Time recognized that the champion would fight until the bitter end.

and Time knew what he had to do.

Time walked over slowly, and placed his hand against Wild’s shoulder. Wild spun around, ready to fight, but quickly stopped as he recognized the Old man. Time noticed a fear in his eyes. But time looked back at him, a resigned warmth.

Time pushed him gently, and Wild stumbled backwards. The champion looked up, but wasn’t able to get a word out before Time uttered words so quiet, yet so powerful.

“Rest for a while. I can do this.”

Time pulled something from his backpack. He had kept it all these years, close to him. He didn’t want it, he hated this mask so much. But a resigned smile admitted to himself that this was the only way.

he pulled on the mask. He had gained control, and learned how he could repel the instant transformation for a short while. He could feel the raw power and immense danger behind this mask, but it was bound by the limitations of the mask and the lock the wearer put on it.

The metal clinking stopped. Time instantly sensed that the monsters, the amalgamations of metal, were all staring at him specifically. Red light then shot out from every direction, perfect beams that aimed themselves at Time himself.

time heard the champion and the other heroes yell, no, scream out to him, but Time only heard his heartbeat above it. And he remembered what happened last time he wore this mask. He remembered the fear and the anger, the chaos and the destruction. And he didn’t care. He needed to save them. And so, 7 words whispered came from his mouth.

“Fierce deity, I give you my body.”

Time’s last thoughts were of Malon as he slipped into the darkness.

——-

Wild barely got a step forward before he was blown away. He covered his eyes, but could see a whirlwind come from where Time was standing. The other heroes stood beside him, in total shock. They quickly laid down, prone or on their backs, to observe what was happening.

the whirlwind subsided, and from where Time was standing came an ominous figure. Aura emanated from his body, leaking out into the atmosphere. A figure covered in a silver cloak and armor stood there. Whatever Time put on, it replaced him with this… god.

“He told me about this once…” twilight whispered, the others turning to look at him. “A warrior god who couldn’t tell friend from foe…”

As he said that, the warrior god turned around to look at them. Wild felt a chill go down his spine, and he could hear Wind trip behind him. As they saw the eyes, the warrior gazed back at them. His eyes were empty, devoid of everything, but a creeping smile escaped, and he started laughing, a creepy, terrifying laugh. This wasn’t Time.

Everything had stopped, even the Guardian’s lasers. But the energy blasts soon charged up again. But before the sound even came, the warrior’s blade was arched back, and a crescent slice cut through the air. Wild couldn’t react before a slice of wind decimated the hillside, instantly destroying the guardians. If the heroes weren’t laying down, they would have been obliterated as well.

the deity looked away from them, and gazed out at the sea of monsters.

“C’mon,” the deity said, his voice containing an infinite amount of other voices. “Let’s have some fun.”

[crab-crab]

Missing family and meeting horses

Hello! I wrote and posted a small drabble that was inspired by my horses in botw! If you wish to read it on ao3 here are the link and tags, and if you want to read it here then it's just under the cut!

Tags: Time-centric, Meeting Wild, Twilight is sad and misses Wild, Time knows the feeling of missing family, Time being spooked by a horse

Summary: Time and Twilight enter a new Hyrule and reminisce about those they left behind

And here is the cut if you wanna read it here instead! Have fun and have a great day!

Time was getting too old for this.

He wasn’t even that old, but with the amount of adventures he’s gone on he’d much prefer to retire than to be sent on another mission.

So far the only good thing that has come out of this adventure is getting to meet his descendant. He was as much a rancher as Malon was and Time couldn’t be happier to know that his wife held such an influence on their future, though that did mean they have children at some point-

He was brought from the brink of spiralling by Twilight looking around at the plain they had just stepped onto from the portal. He looked tense and Time wasted no time in gripping the handle of the Biggoron sword. “I think I’ve been here before,” Twilight said as he guided them both to the path and pointed toward some hills on the other side of the field “I'm pretty sure that a stable is that way.”

“So this is your Hyrule then?” Time looked around their surroundings, dropping his grip on his sword and instead using it to squeeze Twilight’s shoulder “It doesn’t look quite the same.” His pup looked worried for a second, a confused and almost heartbroken look passing over his face before he shrugged and started down the path toward where the stable should be. “I’ve been here before. I never told you, but this ain’t my first time with meeting other heroes” and didn’t that surprise Time?

He’d seen how Twilight had looked at him when they’d first met when the boy had realized who exactly Time was. It was a look of awe, of seeing someone you admired for the first time, of reuniting with someone familiar. But it was also a look of sorrow, at seeing someone who had long passed. And Even Time himself had met other heroes before. He remembered The Captain and Tune, he remembers what it was like to travel with them and then to also leave them and he wonders if he’ll experience that feeling again when he and Twilight eventually have to part.

Time hummed, prompting Twilight to continue when he was ready. 

Twilight went to continue but was interrupted when a horse bolted toward them from further down the path. They barely had enough time to dive towards the sides of the road before the horse stopped and reared up, kicking its front legs before dropping back down onto all fours and flicking its ears. Time sat up and watched as the horse tossed its head while walking over to Twilight, nudging the man's shoulders and lipping at his hair, drawing a startled laugh from the rancher. Standing and walking over to the two, Time watched as Twilight scratched behind the horse's ears and stood to get a proper look at them.

“Hey, beautiful!” Twilight laughed and pat the horse's neck “Time, this is an old friend of mine” he grinned and turned to Time when his face changed to a look of surprise. Confused as to what he was looking at, Time turned and saw another horse standing there except this one had a rider. The horse was the darkest color he’d ever seen and its mane almost glowed because of it. Time half expected bright red eyes to appear from behind the horse's hair with how similar it looked to his enemy from the Water Temple. 

He was so caught up in examining the new horse that he didn’t realize when its rider had slipped from the saddle and was watching them closely from underneath their hood. The horse beside Twilight nipped at the rancher before walking over to the newcomer and nudging them toward the two heroes. 

The rider wore a strikingly blue tunic, their cloak reaching down to their knees and Time could just make out blonde hair before Twilight was stepping forward with wide, shocked eyes “Cub?” his voice was breathless and a smile was starting to grow. Time had never seen Twilight this relieved before, like the weight he was carrying around was just a bit lighter at the sight of this unknown rider- though Time could hazard a guess as to who this is- and when the hooded man reacted be bouncing forward and tackling Twilight, Time knew that his descendant would be rid of a large deal of regret.

[oceansgaywaves]

Casting Call (Team Guard Epilogue)

“Forgive… me… Keranes…”

The sun is rising. Light spills over the hills, trees, buildings, until it meets the dark in a crashing golden wave. The two, reunited at last, form an indescribable color that overwhelms the world in a flash of pure emotion.

As quickly as it blinded her, Azura soon rubs the blindness out of her eyes. The world had changed, revealing its true colors like a painting cleaned after a century of dust and dirt. Buildings lie in weathered ruins. What once was a field is now forest and brush. A long-abandoned metal contraption, warped and rusted beyond recognition, lies half submerged in dirt and grass.

Pain rushes to her temples and she falls to her knees, adding one more dirt stain to her student's uniform. Her head hangs forward. All of the energy drops out of her like water flowing through the bottom of a flask. My mouth tastes horrible. I love it. She smiles, and overwhelmed tears rain to the ground.

The singing, the birds, just a moment longer and I would have... She silently thanks every friend she had made in the last few days, and all of the gods she can think of, glad that her injuries were both not quite fatal, and in the end, nonexistent. Had she known she would have faced this kind of peril, she isn't entirely sure she would have agreed to this mission so many weeks ago. Or was it days? She can't remember and doesn't care. Now that it's over, she's glad.

Those birds... Corrin!

Bolting up, Azura whips her head around, matted blue hair flinging bits of grass into the still air. The images of Corrin's last moments flash through her mind. The viciousness, the fury, the wings and beaks beating down on her as she fell to the ground, let out a piercing cry, and fell silent. Where is she?!

Leaning against a wall, Corrin seems to be going through her own cycle of anguish, but that would have to wait. Before she can stop herself with thoughts of awkwardness, of uncomfortable discussions that led nowhere, she sprints and launches herself directly into the body of the now-startled girl, arms outstretched.

Despite Azura's paltry weight, the two of them topple to the ground in a dirty, stained heap. Her tears resume, and she can't help but leave little spotted tracks along Corrin's knight uniform, gasps and sobs traveling with them. She isn't Her Corrin. She never will be. She's faced her own challenges, lived her own life, met her own Azura. But, just for a moment, Azura holds her friend tight.

~🎵~

Eventually, each and every knight, student, professor, and otherwise ally woke up, each with a tale to tell about their wild dreams. Cheers were heard, tears were shed, and dramatic scenes of action and heroism were acted out to those who missed them. Once the fervor of reunion and triumph died down, those with the authority to organize the crowd ordered a triumphant, though tired, hungry, and distressed march back to Garreg Mach Monastery. The "incident" had been thoroughly investigated.

Now, Azura walks alongside the horse she had ridden into the village on. It only wandered a couple of miles along the road back home, and now bears as many bags, weapons, and other items as it can carry. Interestingly, her own bags remained attached, the only thing it appears she took into the village was her lance. And now that she thinks of it, she could have sworn said lance was a lot heftier in the dream...

What did we even eat, I wonder...? The exact memories of the adventure she went on with the rest of her team are beginning to fray around the edges, but Azura knows that she will always treasure the bonds that she made with each and every one of them.

Leif, the firm, gruff, and yet caring man that welcomed her into the group while providing for and protecting them all.

Roy, the kindred spirit whose heart burned bright with determination and hope, despite the daunting odds.

Andrei, the pained man who deserved a lot more kindness than he was given.

Ashe, the model of knightly duty, and always a trusty shot with a bow.

Byleth, the dependable professor whose solemn determination was as great a weapon as their sword and fists.

Eir, the melancholy princess who delivered both life and death to the battlefield, and gave her wisdom to the fiercest of discussions.

Python, the idle archer with a secret heart of fire and a quiver full of retribution.

Caeda, the bright face of confidence and courage who forged a path for the group with equal measures conviction and love.

Patty, the thief who stole luck to their side, and wore her heart on her sleeve.

Elice, the woman of endless kindness, who kept everyone smiling through the worst of it.

Artur, the respectful gentleman with a talent for both magic and conversation.

Est, the sweet girl with a bit of pain behind her smile who flew above the battlefield like an angel.

And finally, Corrin, walking alongside Leo, their hands intertwined. Azura smiles. She's safe and happy.

The road stretches on ahead. It will be a lengthy trip back, but at the end is a comfortable bed and warm food. In the meantime, there's not much to do besides remember and sing.

You of light, burning bright,

A dream lost within a dream,

Face the dark, burdened heart,

All fades in the morning's gleam.

Day by day,

You show your love,

In the fray,

Your strength is one.

I'll love you,

Till we are,

Undone.

A single bubble, like the relieved sigh at the end of a concert, forms on the edge of Azura's pendant, catches a gust of wind, and flies up into the bright sky.

~The End~

[jazzy---j]

Daughter of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief

“even the gods have to bow to fate”

Chapter Summary: A tour turns into a trial by toilet water. They never see the actual orientation film.

Masterlist >>> Read on ao3 (6/23)

My Brother Becomes Supreme Lord of the Bathroom

I still had not gotten over the shock. I had accepted it sure but it still felt like the whole world had shifted under my feet.

We had a nice tour, though I noticed Percy was careful not to walk behind Chiron. I stifled a laugh remembering that he'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times. And was probably wary of Chirons's backside.

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horns Percy was carrying. Another said, “That’s them."

I tried to clamp down on my pride. My brother and I had fought off a monster as frightening as the minotaur and we are still alive. That's pretty freaking cool. But, the following thought of my mother immediately put a damper on my mood.

Most of the campers were older than me and my brother. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. 

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I’d realized—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when Percy nudged my shoulder whispering, "Do you see that?"

I frowned at him and looked to where he was pointing and saw a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct feeling we were being watched.

“What’s up there?” Percy asked Chiron. He looked where Percy was pointing, and his smile faded. “Just the attic.”

“Somebody lives there?" Percy probed.   “No,” he said with finality. “Not a single living thing.” I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain.

“Come along, Percy, Cassie,” Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. “Lots to see.”

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

Chiron told us the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. “It pays our expenses,” he explained. “And the strawberries take almost no effort.”

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire.

“Grover won’t get in too much trouble, will he?” Percy asked Chiron. “I mean...he was a good protector. Really.”

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse’s back like a saddle. “Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper, and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill.” “But he did that!" I argued. “I might agree with you,” Chiron said. “But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I’m afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there’s the unfortunate...ah... the fate of your mother. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover’s part.”

I felt so bad. None of what happened was Grover’s fault.  “He’ll get a second chance, won’t he?”Percy asked hopefully.

Chiron winced. “I’m afraid that was Grover’s second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He’s still so small for his age....” “How old is he?” "Oh, twenty-eight.” “Whoa, wait, time out," I exclaimed, "He's twenty-eight and still in the sixth grade?” “Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Cassie. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years.” “Holy... that's- that’s horrible,” I said as a shiver went up my spine.

“Quite,” Chiron agreed. “At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career...” “That’s not fair,” Percy said. “What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?”

Chiron looked away quickly. “Let’s move along, shall we?” Percy's brows furrowed and I found myself doing the same.

For someone who said they would explain everything, Chiron was avoiding answering many of our questions.

“Chiron,” Percy said. “If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..."

“Yes, child?”

“Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?” Chiron’s expression darkened. “Yes, child.” He paused as if choosing his words carefully.

“There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now...until we know more...I would urge you to put that out of your mind.” “What do you mean, ‘until we know more?" My brother pushed.

“Come, you two. Let’s see the woods.”

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick. Chiron said, “The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed.” “Stocked with what?” I asked. “Armed with what?” “You’ll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Have you kept the bracelet? 

At first, I didn’t understand until Chiron gestured to my right wrist, and I remember the bracelet that has been stuck on my arm for the past month.

“This a very powerful weapon, use it only in times of severe distress," he instructed seriously, "but it should do just fine for capture the flag this week."

"Umm ok?" I said not mentioning that I had no idea how to use this "weapon." I had not been able to get it off let alone get it to turn back into the spear I used to kill Ms. Dodds.

“Percy,” Chiron motioned “I don’t suppose you have your own sword and shield yet. I think a size six will do. I’ll visit the armory later.”

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn’t seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights. “Sword and spear fights?” I asked enthused. That sounded pretty cool. Maybe someone could teach me how to use the serpent spear thingy.

“Cabin challenges and all that,” he explained. “Non-lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there’s the mess hall.”        

The use of the word usually piqued my interest even more. My brother turned to me, knowing what I was thinking, and just rolled his eyes.

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls. “What do you do when it rains?” I asked. Chiron looked at me as if I’d gone a little weird. “We still have to eat, don’t we?” 

Finally, he showed us the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were, without doubt, the most bizarre collection of buildings I’d ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

“Zeus and Hera?” Percy guessed. “Correct,” Chiron said. “Their cabins look empty.” “Several of the cabins are. That’s true. No one ever stays in one or two.”

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty? Percy stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three. I halted next to him. It wasn’t high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.

I felt almost a pull as Percy and I walked toward the cabin and peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”

Before he could pull us back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad and lonely, I was glad when Percy grabbed my hand as Chiron pulled us away and said, “Come along you two.”

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers. Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar’s head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. 

The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and me giving us an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red. 

That boy from earlier Markus, who I guess was done cleaning the weapons shed, was leaning on the porch yelling at some of the other boys who were wrestling inside the cabin. 

Suddenly he wiped his head around and looked dead at me sneering. I don’t know if he was trying to scare me or something but I was kind of tired of his attention.

I stuck my tongue out as I flipped him off.

His face morphed from surprised to mildly impressed. He then proceeded to wink at me.

I frowned as my face started to heat up and quickly turned my attention back to Chiron and Percy's conversation. What was that guy's deal?

“We haven’t seen any other centaurs,” Percy observed. “No,” said Chiron sadly. “My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I’m afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won’t see any here.” “You said your name was Chiron. Are you really...” He smiled down at us. “The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am.” “But, shouldn’t you be dead?”

"Ummm... Percy, he's right here?" 

Percy huffed a breath looking at me annoyed.

I shrugged, "Just saying."

Chiron paused as if the question intrigued him. “I honestly don’t know about should be. The truth is, I can’t be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. But I’m still here, so I can only assume I’m still needed.”

“Doesn’t it ever get boring?” I asked.

“No, no,” he said. “Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring.”

I frowned “Why depressing?” Chiron again seemed to turn hard of hearing. “Oh, look,” he said. “Annabeth is waiting for us.” The girl we’d met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked over Percy and me critically. I didn't want her to look at us as a threat so I smiled at her in return. She seemed to be off-put even more but her face relaxed slightly.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn’t make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn’t even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book. “Annabeth,” Chiron said, “I have a masters’ archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Cassie from here?” “Yes, sir.” “Cabin eleven,” Chiron said, gesturing toward the doorway of a nearby cabin with an unordinary amount of mailboxes next to it. “Make yourself at home.”

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor’s symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it.

What did they call it...? A caduceus. Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn’t go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

“Well, then,” Chiron said. “Good luck, you two. I’ll see you at dinner.” He galloped away toward the archery range.

I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren’t bowing anymore. They were staring at us, sizing us up. I knew this routine. I’d gone through it in enough schools.

“Well?” Annabeth prompted. “Go on.” So naturally, I tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of myself. Percy caught me before I could totally faceplant onto the floors. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

Annabeth announced, “Percy and Cassie Jackson, meet cabin eleven.”

“Regular or undetermined?” somebody asked. I didn’t know what to say, but Annabeth said, “Undetermined.”

Everybody groaned.

I just sorta looked around confused.

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. “Now, now, campers. That’s what we’re here for. Welcome, Percy, Cassie. You can have those two spots on the floor, right over there.”

The guy was about nineteen, and not gonna lie he was hot. Like really really hot.  He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just below his right eyebrow, barely missing his eye, right down to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

“This is Luke,” Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over her, with eyebrows raised, and could’ve sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. “He’s your counselor for now.”

“For now?” Percy asked. “You’re undetermined,” Luke explained patiently. “They don’t know what cabin to put you in, so you’re here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers.”

I looked around at the campers’ faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.  “How long will we be here?” I asked. “Good question,” Luke said. “Until you’re determined.” “Well, how long will that take?” The campers all laughed.

“Come on,” Annabeth told us. “I’ll show you the volleyball court.” “We’ve already seen it. " my brother replied. “Come on," she gritted out again with a little more force.  She grabbed my brother's wrist and dragged him outside. 

I turned to look back at all the kids still laughing at us. 

"Welp... I'm just gonna go now." I said nodding to Luke as I turned right back to the dorm and ran right after my brother.

I could hear the kids of cabin eleven continue laughing behind me.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, “Jackson, you have to do better than that.” “What?” My brother said annoyed. 

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, “I can’t believe I thought you were the one.” “What’s your problem?” Percy said louder.

I could tell Percy was getting angry now. It may or may not be obvious but my brother has a bit of a temper. So, did I, of course, an explosive one at that. We've both always struggled with controlling our emotions.

“All I know is, I kill some bull guy—”

“Don’t talk like that!” Annabeth told him.

“You know how many kids at this camp wish they’d had your chance?”

“To get killed?”

“To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?”

Percy shook his head. “Look, if the thing me and Cassie fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories...” “Yes.” “Then there’s only one.” “Yes.” “And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So...” “Monsters don’t die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don’t die.” "Oh great!" I exclaimed, exasperated, "So he's like what, still out there?" “They don’t have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you’re lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form.”

I thought about Mrs. Dodds. “You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a spear—” “The Fur...I mean, your math teacher. That’s right. She’s still out there. You just made her very, very mad.” “How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?”

“Percy talks in his sleep.”

I snorted a laugh, I should have known. I've heard Percy reveal the most ridiculous nonsense in his sleep. From what he's had for dinner to his pet fish named Nemo that I accidentally flushed down the toilet that one time.

“You almost called her something. A Fury? They’re Hades’ torturers, right?” Percy asked miffed.

Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground as if she expected it to open up and swallow her. “You shouldn’t call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones if we have to speak of them at all.”

"Ummm, Mrs. Dodds was not very kind when I met her," I said.

Annabeth gave me an exasperated look and I only smiled sweetly in return.

“Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?” Percy whined.

“Why do we have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there.” Percy pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth stiffened. “You don’t just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent.”

She stared at my brother, waiting for him to get it. “My mom is Sally Jackson,” Percy said. “She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to.”

I stared down at my feet. Every thought, every mention of my mom only made me feel the absence of her even more.“I’m sorry about your mom, Percy. But that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your other parent. Your dad.” “He’s dead. We never knew him.” Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she’d had this conversation before with other kids. “Your father’s not dead, Percy.” “How can you say that? You know him?”

I looked at him strangely, "Percy of course she doesn't!" “Then how can you say—” “Because I know you. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t one of us," she exclaims.

“You don’t know anything about me. Or my sister!"

I roll my eyes. Oh my god, please do not bring me into this. Nevertheless, he is clearly freakin so I grab his hand to try and calm him down.

“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them.”

“How—”

“Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too.” I blinked at her slowly.

"Uhhhhhhhhh... ok that's kinda personal information."

“What does that have to do with anything?” Percy asked testily.

“Taken together, it’s almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That’s because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you’re impulsive, can’t sit still in the classroom. That’s your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they’d keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that’s because you see too much, Percy, not too little. So do you Cassie. Your senses are better than a regular mortal’s. Of course, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don’t want you seeing them for what they are.”

“You sound like...you went through the same thing?” Percy asked cautiously. “Most of the kids here did. If you weren’t like us, you couldn’t have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar.” “Ambrosia and nectar.” “The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would’ve killed a normal kid. It would’ve turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you’d be dead. Face it. You’re a half-blood.”

A half-blood.

Oh my god, my dad was a God!

I'm related to a god.

I was reeling with so many more questions than before that I didn’t know where to start. Then a husky voice yelled, “Well! A couple of newbies!”

I looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward us. Along with that guy Markus, and three other girls behind her, all big and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets. Excluding Markus in his orange shirt, black cargo pants, and big black combat boots. I also noticed what looked like military dog tags hanging from his neck near the bandolier full of knives across his chest.

“Clarisse,” Annabeth sighed. “Why don’t you go polish your spear or something?” “Sure, Miss Princess,” the big girl said. “So I can run you through with it Friday night.” “Erre es korakas!” Annabeth said, which I somehow understood was Greek for ‘Go to the crows!’ though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded.

“You don’t stand a chance.” “We’ll pulverize you,” Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn’t sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward us. “Who’re the little runts?” “Percy and Cassie Jackson,” Annabeth said, “meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares.”

Annabeth gestured towards Markus, "You already know Mark."

Markus gives a smug smile and a wink in my direction.

I blinked. “So like your dad is... the war god dude?”

Markus snorted, "Yeah our dad is the war god dude. Can't you see the resemblance?"

Now that he mentioned it there was a sort of hard ruggedness to his features. He was tall and lanky, but a quick look in his eyes showed an intense ruthlessness in them that was a little unnerving for a kid around my age to have.

Clarisse sneered. “You got a problem with that?” “No,” Percy said, quickly interjecting for me. “My sister just means it explains the bad smell.” Clarisse growled. “We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy.” "Percy.” “Whatever. Come on, I’ll show you.” “Clarisse—” Annabeth tried to say. “Stay out of it, wise girl.” Annabeth looked pained, but she kept her mouth shut.

Personally, I wanted Annabeth's help but my brother probably thought since he was the new kid he had to earn his own rep and protect me by extension. Or some totally dumb crap like that.

My suspicions are confirmed when Percy handed Annabeth the box of minotaur horns and proceeded to get in a fighting stance, but before I knew it, Clarisse had my brother by the neck and was dragging him toward a cinder-block building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.

He was kicking and punching. And I was surprised to see that Clarisse did not seem to be affected at a. I've seen my brother in plenty of fights and they never ended pretty for anyone. Nevertheless, Clarisse continued to drag my brother into the girls’ bathroom.

The three other girls started to converge on me but Markus quickly stepped in and grabbed my arm roughly.

"Go help Clarisse with that dipshit over there," he looked down at me and snorted, "I can handle this one."

Ummm, hello?

One of the girls points a finger at Mark and comments, "That's very sexist Mark, but your right she doesn't look like she'd put up much of a fight." My jaw drops.

All three of them then proceed to follow Clarisse still dragging my struggling brother to the bathroom. Followed by a panicked Annabeth clutching the shoebox.

"Close your mouth you look like a fish."

I whipped my head swiftly to look back at his face as he began to drag me in the direction of the bathroom as well.

"Well... you look stupid!" I respond indignantly as I proceed to try and wrench my arm out of his grip. His eyebrow quirks up in question, as if to say "That's all you got?"

My cheeks burned in embarrassment at the idiocy of my comeback. I really could not have thought of anything better? He looked at me completely bored. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."

"Let go of me!" I scream all my patience gone.

That's right folks, I've had it up to here! I'm done! This dude manhandling me is the final straw!

Markus simply frowned, "Hey I'm trying to help you! So just shut up, keep your head down, and keep walking."

I didn't have time to respond as we finally reached the inside of the girls' bathroom.

There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. It smelled just like any other public bathroom. Clarisse’s friends were all laughing as she dragged Percy over to a stall.

“Like he’s ‘Big Three’ material,” Clarisse said as she pushed my brother toward one of the toilets. “Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid-looking.” Her friends snickered.

Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers as Clarisse bent my brother over on his knees and started pushing his head toward the toilet bowl.

My stomach dropped at the sight. I bet it reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets. I started yelling for them to stop and fighting harder against Markus's grasp. Instead of letting me go he just grabbed my other arm to keep me still. 

"Shut up and stop it!" Markus jeered at me. I kicked him in the shin making him hiss in pain but still held firmly onto my arms.

Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. I heard the plumbing rumble, and the pipes shudder. Clarisse and her siblings started looking around nervously. Suddenly water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over Percy's head, and the next thing I knew, Clarisse was sprawled on the bathroom tiles and screaming in front of me.

She moved to stand up again but water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back.  The shower stalls to my left exploded in a huge torrent of water that caused Markus's grip on my arms to fall away as he was blasted into the bathroom wall by the cascade of shower water. Together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, I felt the tug in my stomach lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started.

The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn’t even been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn’t been pushed out the door. She was standing in the same place, staring at us in shock. I looked down and realized I was standing in a circle of dry floor around me. I didn’t have not one drop of water on my clothes. None.

I looked over to Percy and similarly, there didn't seem to be a drop of water on or around him. Percy stood up on shaky legs.

Annabeth said, “How did you...” “I don’t know, " my brother responded.

I looked over to Markus, who looked like a wet cat with his now darker hair plastered to his face, soaking wet clothes, and his mouth wide open gaping at me.

Percy, Annabeth, and I started walking out of the bathroom, and at the threshold of the door I turned to Markus, still gawking at me, and mocked, "Who looks like a fish now." And walked out the door.

Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to see what was going on. Clarisse’s hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave Percy and me a look of absolute hatred. “You are dead, newbies. You are totally dead.”

Percy smirked and said, “You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth.” Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Annabeth stared at us. I couldn’t tell whether she was just grossed out or angry because she was wet.

“What?” Percy demanded. “What are you thinking?” “I’m thinking,” she said, “that I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

chapter 7 >>>

[justatinybunwriting]

Mirror

Prompt 8 of this promptober list!

Synopsis: As Richard and Jac are trying to open a portal that would lead to home, a man hired by a wicked queen approaches Jac.

Notes: The first part of this story takes place in the Fairy World Detective AU!

"Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

In an instant, the fairy behind the glass appeared before the wicked queen and replied with a cocky grin.

"Hate to break the news to ya lady, but there's a new gal in town that goes by the name of Jac."

The queen was infuriated and tossed her bubbling drink onto the mirror, barely missing it.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO SNOW WHITE?!"

"Well, she met up with her sister Red Rose and is now in a cabin with a bear I believe. So she's no longer in this fairy kingdom, ma'am."

"Good. That bear will take care of her. But WHO IS THIS INBECILE JACK?"

"Beats me. She just came out of nowhere, like poof! And she was there."

"WHERE IS THAT GOOD FOR NOTHING ASSASSIN?!"

Meanwhile, Jac and her giant friend Richard were stuck in a crossroad, both literally and figuratively.

"Cheeze brought us through the wrong wormhole again!" Jac fumed. "This is definitely not Never Never Land!"

"Never trust a rabbit to do a fae's job." Richard replied as he held a shining crystal in his hands. "Don't worry, I'm on it. If I can just get this artifact to work I can open the Tunnel of Chaos again so we can get back to headquarters and start over."

"Or we could try to find the right checkpoint ourselves and head over there straight away from the tunnel."

"Jac, we discussed this. The last time we did that we wounded up switching sizes. I'm not going to take that risk again."

"But I liked being big.." Jac pouted as she folded her arms.

Just then, a rugged man wielding a knife walked up to Jac from behind. She whipped around as soon as she noticed him; the sight of the weapon in his hand caused all the hairs on her neck to stand. She was about to do a quick draw of her taser when the stranger backed up and held back his blade. He had a sorrowful look in his eyes.

"Oh, oh... no, you're pretty." He uttered.

"What?!" Was Jac's angered response.

"I'm sorry. I was hired to kill you. But once again I cannot. I am a weak man."

"WHA?!"

At that very moment, the man was suddenly plucked up by the rim of his coat and was just as quickly brought up to the giant's face. The assassin was flabbergasted by how he failed to notice this titan before and flailed about wildly.

"What do you want me to do with him, Jac?" Richard bellowed in an almost beastly manner.

"Please!! Mister giant!! Don't eat me!!" The assassin pleaded.

"No? Why would I want to do that? You look disgusting. I was thinking more like... how about I throw you over the horizon? That sounds like it would be fun, wouldn't you agree?"

"Richard!! Put him down!!" Jac was folding her arms and thumped her foot. The giant then turned his head and looked upon her with a fake pout.

"Why don't you want me to mess with him? He did just try to kill you after all."

"I think I know which story we're in! We're not supposed to screw around with it remember? Just fix the messes that the Time Warper has made, remember?!"

"All right, all right..." Richard then turned his attention back to the shivering man in his grasp. "You promise you won't tell anyone else about this?"

"OF COURSE OF COURSE! I SWEAR BY THE QUEEN'S NAME!!"

"O-kay."

The Wile giant then sat the man down roughly on the grass. He then lowered himself and looked at him straight in the eyes before returning with a growling voice.

"Now BEAT IT before I change my mind."

The man did a complete 180 and made a beeline for the hills, all while he wailed hysterically like a madman. Richard got up to his full height and brushed the dirt off his hands.

"He won't keep his word. We better get outta here before all the King's horses and all the King's men come after us with pitchforks."

"The usual." Jac raised her arms.

Not long after, after reciting the spell for the umpteenth time, at last the crystal in Richard's hands lit up a bright blue and a portal started to form right in front of the two. At that exact time, they heard the telltale hollers of an angry mob in the far distance, so the interdimensional tunnel couldn't have come at a better time.

As what was normally the case, the hole was only big enough for a human to pass through, though that wouldn't be a problem for Richard. Shrinking down to human height is a necessary evil (in his mind) when the situation called for it. Taking Jac by the hand, the two of them jumped in at once, and were pulled in just as the wormhole was about to close behind them.

.....

Jac had awoken underneath Richard's hand. The Wile giant had propped her against his chest, and he was apparently startled awake about the same time as she was.

"I... had that weird dream again..." Jac said groggily as she wiped the crust off of her eyes.

"Which one...?" Richard asked with a yawn.

"That I was a fairy world detective. And you were there, and helping me out with solving mysteries in fairy land..."

"You've been watching too many cartoons."

"Maybe."

The start of the morning was quiet, as neither of them had work that day. So they were free to prep in their own leisure. Jac had gone to freshen up in the human sized restroom, with the bits and pieces of what she remembered of her dreams still stirring up her thoughts.

As she brushed her hair, she noticed a small green dot on the mirror. She couldn't figure out where it came from or what it was exactly, but one thing was for certain: it was gross and it needed to go. She was just about to pull out a paper towel in order to wipe the blotch out, when it suddenly moved.

Jac froze in place as the little green figure fluttered about; it held it's hands over it's face with what appeared to be a snicker, before at last it flew out of the frame. Jac immediately turned around, but saw nothing behind her. It was too late anyway since the little thing was too fast for her to follow.

She could have sworn that it was the very same fairy that she saw behind the magic mirror in her dream.

For a few moments thereafter she became lost in a sea of what ifs. Eventually, after the initial shock had weathered down, Jac figured that she was still drowsy from the restless sleep she had the night before. She was still pretty tired, so it wasn't unusual for her to let her imagination wander during these times. So with that, Jac decided to not ponder about it any further, as she continued on as usual with the rest of her day.

She never did see that green fairy again, so she was pretty certain it was all in her head. Maybe.