#i was ten minutes away from asking my parents and i avoid them like the plague when money is involved

[floorpancakes]

GUYS BY SOME WEIRD MIRACLE THE REFUND PROCESSED DIRECTLY INTO MY BANK AND ITS FINALLY MINE ....ITS ALSO UNUSED NEW IN BOX THE WAIT IS OVER

[appocalipse]

MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

Steve has a problem.

No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.

You are Steve Harrington's problem.

You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.

Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.

Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.

Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.

"You should talk to her."

It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.

"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."

"Coward."

"Maybe I am."

Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.

She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.

"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.

"No."

She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.

"Robin-"

She has her backpack on her back.

"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"

Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.

Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.

You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.

You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.

Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.

You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."

You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.

Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.

Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.

He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.

"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.

It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.

Pathetic.

You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.

He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.

"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"

"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.

He clears his throat.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."

"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"

"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.

The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.

As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.

This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.

"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."

You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.

He's making you cry?

Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.

"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."

"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.

Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:

"How to handle…what?"

It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…

Well.

"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.

"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.

"Yes."

Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"

"Tell me."

"I think you already know."

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"

He trails off.

And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.

"You almost what?"

He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."

"You asked me to unzip your dress."

"And?"

Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.

"You can't be serious."

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"

"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.

But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?

"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"

Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?

You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.

"Then you just…decided to ignore me."

For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.

"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.

"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"

"Get over you!"

"I...what?"

It feels like you're taunting him at this point.

"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?" 

He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression. 

"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."

There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"

"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."

"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.

"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"

"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"

Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.

Laughing.

For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…

You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.

“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you. 

He wonders if he heard it wrong.

No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.

"Wait, I…what?"

You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face. 

"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"

He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him? 

It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours. 

It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else. 

Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.

You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment. 

Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.

Fuck. 

Steve groans as you pull back immediately.

It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.

He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.

Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…

You grin. "You should probably-"

"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."

Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.

tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak

my masterlist | buy me a coffee

[chaoticladyfire]

Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)

-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.

-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her. 

-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke

-Lyla. Just Lyla.

- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls

-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him

-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue

-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text

-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads

-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey. 

-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience 

-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences. 

-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15 

-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman

-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually) 

-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons

-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi 

-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA

-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing

-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav

-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it

-His pet name being Pav cured my soul

-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all

-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR 

-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it

-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel

-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually

-The Donald Grover cameo!!!

-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves

-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman 

-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby

-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG

-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it

-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly 

-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying

-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end. 

-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.

-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.

-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles. 

- This movie is not good for my father related issues

-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42

-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier? 

-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal

-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up

-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker

-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed. 

I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember

[theeoriginals]

a Klaus fic with this gem from Ozark “look, I know I kissed you last night but I thought I was gonna fucking die”. Change to fit however you want 😘

the last thing i'd do | klaus mikaelson

author's note; whoever sent this im so sorry it's been in my inbox for seven months

warnings; hybrid!reader, mentions of violence, violence against reader, themes of death, klaus gets crazy :), then there's fluff, a bit of angst still sprinkled in, but there's a happy ending

It's a blood bath, is the thing.

She can't tell what blood is hers anymore, and the ache in her body has done nothing but grow steadily over the past ten minutes. It feels like it's been hours since it all started.

She doesn't remember who threw the first punch, just knows that someone had come at her and she had no choice but to fight back, fight for her life.

There's blood under her nails, and she thinks maybe some in her eyes because they're burning, but it might be the tears shining in them.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Klaus had, for once, been hoping for peace. He was always braced for a fight, but he'd truly been hoping for a painless, quick negotiation.

Of course, it's turned into the worst fight they've had in a while.

She's always been on Klaus's side of things; fights, family, life. She's always had her place here, carved out by none other than the Original Hybrid himself. She's never understood just what he saw in her that earned her this place, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Some– most– call her loyalty a form of naivety. Perhaps the sire bond still lingering, despite the fact that she'd broken it years ago. His siblings call it blindness, or ignorance, in their harsher moments. Her friends, the few that happen to be immortal, too, think she's reckless and just asking for him to kill her. Klaus Mikaelson turns on everybody, eventually, they say. The paranoid, hybrid king trusts nothing and no one. He killed his parents, multiple times, and he's kept his siblings in and out of coffins for most of their immortal lives. Why would he ever enjoy the company of one of his sires?

She's never thought he was perfect. That's something people always get wrong. They think she sees no flaws in him, when really she sees them all for what they are, she sees him for who he really is. She still loves him.

Some days she thinks he knows how she feels for him. Sometimes she can't keep it out of her eyes, and he'll catch her looking at him and his eyes will narrow slightly, like he's warning her to contain it.

Other days, she thinks there's no way he knows, because if he knew the capacity of her adoration, he'd surely have to say something. Tell her to move on. Compel the feelings away, possibly. If he were that cruel to her.

She doesn't think he would be. Since that first day he found her in the woods with what was left of her pack, they'd all watched him in fear. Some confused. Angry. But she was mystified. Enraptured by him and the power that radiated off of him.

She spent a long time feeling weak when she was younger. Even after she triggered the curse. But when Klaus told her she could become immortal, be strong, be at his side, she was the first to accept. The only one in her pack to ask him to turn her.

He'd set his eyes on her, something unidentifiably dark gleaming in his blue eyes, and when she latched onto his wrist to drink his blood, he hadn't looked away from her.

When he cupped her cheeks, he'd brushed his thumbs along the curve of her cheekbones and told her he'd make it quick and painless for her, and when she opened her eyes, he'd be there.

He'd kept his word, then. And he'd kept it ever since.

This, though. He'd given her his word, knowing her hesitance to fight, knowing that unless it was life or death, she'd rather avoid conflict. He promised her there would be no bloodshed here today.

It's not his fault, this time. She needs to tell him that. She needs to be at his side to make sure they're still fighting together, like they have for so long, yet so little time.

She throws a vampire off of her, with nothing but his heart in her palm and she quickly drops it to the ground at her feet. Turning, she pushes through the chaos, trying to cross the room to where she last saw him.

"Klaus!"

Her voice echoes over the mess and she sees him turn in the direction of it, and the fire in his blue eyes has her stopping.

He has blood smeared around his mouth and chin and she knows he's torn out more throats than he can count. The numbers are dwindling on both sides, barely anyone left standing, and she goes to close the space between them when a blinding pain stops her in her tracks.

Her choked off grunt is nearly silent amidst the yelling, but to Klaus it's like a gunshot.

He watches the point of the stake stab through her chest and feels his breath stall in his chest, fingers going numb all the way to the tips.

Her hand comes up, trembling as she skims her fingers over the blood blooming on her shirt around the stake. When she looks back up at Klaus, she tries to say his name but it's suffocated by the blood bubbling up in her throat.

Her knees give out from under her and she hears his hoarse voice yell her name as she goes down.

She can't see it, but she feels the pain that refreshes when he rips the stake from her back and throws it into the heart of the vampire that had attacked her.

She can't see it through the blur of her tears, but the sounds of retreat echo in her ears around the waves crashing.

When Klaus speaks again, his voice is closer and she blinks blearily, finding him hovering above her with wide eyes, looking uncharacteristically scared.

Her brows furrow when she sees the look on his face and when his fingers brush hers, she's quick to intertwine them with hers.

He whispers her name, the sound broken with emotion, and she squeezes his hand unconsciously.

"You're alright," He tries, valiantly ignoring the graying color of her skin despite the fact that he got the stake out of her. "You're alright, love. The pain will go away in a minute,"

She frowns, shaking her head against where he has it cupped with the hand that she's not holding. "Doesn't hurt," She whispers, swallowing roughly around the copper in her mouth.

"What?"

She repeats herself. "Doesn't hurt. Can't feel anything,"

Klaus makes a noise that she thinks might be grief. "No, no, it's alright. Here," He rips his hand from hers and his fangs tear into his skin, and he shoves his wrist against her mouth, letting as much blood drip into her mouth as he can before he heals.

She swallows it dutifully, but that numbness doesn't quite go away, and she wonders why he's so worried about it.

"Sit up," He commands her, though his voice is nowhere near as firm as it can get. "Sit up, and I'll help you the rest of the way. We'll go home, and you can rest."

"Klaus," She says his name, smiling around the syllables. "Come here."

He leans down at her request, eyes fluttering shut on a shaky breath when she lifts a blood-smeared hand up to his cheek. He whispers her name and her smile gives way to bloody teeth.

She uses what strength she can to lean up and kiss him, the pads of her fingers pressing into his pale cheek when he inhales sharply but presses back instantly, deepening the kiss.

She lingers as long as she can until she has to pull away, gasping for a full breath that she can't quite reach.

Still, a smile sits on her lips and when she meets Klaus's worried gaze, she doesn't falter. "Thank you,"

Confusion flutters on his face for a moment, but he jostles her when she starts to go limp in his arms, hand falling from his face. "No," He pulls her weight up, lifting her against his chest as her eyes flutter shut. "No. Wake up. Wake up!"

Silence follows his demands, his pleas, and through the blood on her cheek, a single tear falls from his eye, cleaning as it slides down her skin and falls into nothing.

Despite the silence surrounding him, he feels deafened.

────── 

When she opens her eyes again, she can feel her body again in a way she couldn't before. Luckily, she can't feel any pain.

Her eyes go down to her chest where she knows a gaping wound had been, but there's nothing left, not even a scar its wake and she takes a deep breath, relieved that it's not followed by a throttle of blood coming up her throat.

"You're awake,"

The voice startles her, but she isn't scared when she turns her head against the pillow to look at Klaus. A frown sprouts on her face when she sees him sitting in a chair at her side, looking like he hasn't slept in days. It's not always necessary, but they have to take breaks sometimes, and she hasn't seen Klaus look this tired in a long time.

"I am," She says, swallowing a mouthful of spit in an attempt to wet her throat. "I don't think I should be, though."

"I owe many people a great deal of things, so you'd better stay that way."

His voice is dark and she can hear the anger in it, but she's not used to it being focused on her. "You didn't–"

"Do not," He cuts her off, his words nearly a growl that has her eyes widening. "Do not tell me that I shouldn't have saved you."

He leans forward, grabbing her hand in his, and she shrinks with embarrassment when she remembers how she'd touched his cheek and kissed him.

"Klaus," She squeezes her eyes shut, huffing her humiliation out. "I am– so sorry that I–"

"Don't," He cuts her off again, hand pressing pointedly against hers. "Don't apologize if you don't mean it."

She falls silent for a moment, lost as she looks at him. "I just... I thought I was going to die. And I just– I had to have it at least once."

He visibly swallows and she watches that pretty shine light up his eyes again. "You thought you were dying, and the last thing you wanted to do was kiss me?"

She nods despite the toe-curling embarrassment coursing through her.

He cuts a sharp breath out of his nose, shaking his head.

Before she realizes it, he's hovering above her, cupping her cheeks gently. "Silly little thing," He quietly scolds her, not giving her time to argue before he kisses her, ever so softly, softer than she ever thought he could be. Like she'll break beneath his touch if he doesn't treat her like glass.

When he pulls away and she forces her eyes open, she finds herself fighting off a tingling sensation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "What'd you do that for?"

He smiles, small and fond. "The next time you kiss me, you don't have to be dying to do it."

"Oh,"

"Don't ever do that to me again," His voice has a warning in it, but she's already smiling too hard to pay attention to it. "You know how I feel about people disobeying my orders."

Her grin is audible when she responds. "Yeah, I do."

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 12

Part 11

@spectrum-spectre before you say anything, there's no smut in this one so go to sleep and read it at a more reasonable hour

In Eddie's fantasy world, he took off in a plane with Steve, escorted him back to Indiana, dropped him off at the door of the home he'd be staying at, giving him a very thorough scenting before letting him go.

But Eddie had work to take care of and Steve said he would be fine. And Eddie had gotten the hang of figuring out when Steve meant what he said. It wasn't hard. Whenever he wanted to be spoiled, he put that bratty lilt to his voice. They parted ways, Eddie having rubbed himself all over Steve before they exited the car, then again before getting to the check out counter.

Eddie was avoiding notice by wearing his hair in a braided bun and big sunglasses. He insisted on getting Steve a first class ticket. It was the only way to keep too many people from rubbing against him and thus making his scent fade sooner.

"Don't miss me too much", Eddie teased, looking over the rim of his shades.

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck. "I already do, Daddy", he whispered. He kissed him and then murmured against his lips. "Can't stop thinking about it. In less than ten days..."

Eddie put his hands to Steve's waist. He couldn't wait either. They'd be reuniting for Steve's heat. But they weren't coming back together just for that. While Steve was pretty regular and was 99% it would come when he said it did, Eddie would have Steve on the first jet to Texas on January 1st.

Steve thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of first class and landed back home with less than half the stress of a normal plane flight. Eddie had been a little zealous in spending on him sometimes, and it reflected in how much money he sent to Steve so that he could get a ride at the airport. Steve had specifically told him that Lucas could have picked him up and then he'd be with family for the rest of the time.

Eddie must've heard something different because when Steve checked his venmo, he was several hundred dollars richer. When Lucas picked him up, he decided that money could be well spent doing some last minute shopping.

"You know, I'm actually kind of relieved", Lucas said as they packed the last of the stuff into his trunk.

"Why?", Steve asked.

"I thought when you started being a sugar baby and junk you'd turn into a different person. But you're still Steve."

Steve smiled. "Didn't go through a name change last I checked."

"You know what I mean. You were still cursing out the ref at the game back in DC. And you got Robin a mug with a weird picture, not like a diamond encrusted dog bowl or something."

"She's gonna love the mug more than that. And the ref had his blinders on for the whole first half."

Steve didn't realize how relieved he was to hear that though, that he had retained the real parts of himself even though he felt completely changed by Eddie. Would he start to change in time? How long would it take? His reverie was broken when Lucas pulled into the driveway of his home.

"Okay, so Dustin told my parents you were seeing someone and Mike told them it was someone famous but they don't know it's Eddie Munson."

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Do they know that I'm?"

Lucas shook his head. "You get to tell them that."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me", Steve groaned.

The last thing he wanted to tell the people who helped him through the final years of high school and the first couple of college was that he was getting dicked down by a celebrity and was falling for him too. The Sinclairs were more like his parents than his actual mom and dad.

They didn't hold back either, bringing it up the moment he entered and they got their hugs.

"Dustin told us you're seeing someone?", Mrs. Sinclair said.

Steve snuck an ear twist as Dustin walked by with a grin, one that the Sinclairs definitely noticed but let him get away with. He had to be honest not just because of how important they were, but because they'd find out everything sooner or later. New traveled fast online and he was honestly surprised they didn't know more already.

"I met him one night at a bar. He covered my dinner when I was a little short", Steve said as his hands were kept busy helping with the food preparation.

"Sounds like a gentleman", Mr. Sinclair said.

Lucas and his friends were sitting in the living room, which Steve was thankful for. He knew they'd want to spill every last bean. He got away with giving them minimal info: Eddie's first name, the fact he was a musician, an alpha, and that they'd been on a few dates.

That night, he cornered Dustin and Mike and made them swear to keep their mouths shut about anything else.

"Lucas got basketball tickets. We should get something to", Mike said.

"How's about you don't get a tanned hide?", Steve offered, eyes hard.

Christmas went as usual, Steve spent the day of and day after in the Sinclair home, then returned to his own apartment where Robin was already waiting to celebrate New Years. He didn't get two feet into the door before she was feeling his stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not-"

"But you could be. I know you and your cumslut tendencies. So I know you're not making him wrap it up."

"But I'm still taking my birth control", Steve said.

"You just know that if you get knocked up I'll have no choice but to move back in with you and help you raise this pup", Robin said.

"There is no pup. And I wouldn't make you do that."

"I would though. For you", she promised.

"I know Robs. That's why I'm not gonna let it happen. If I wanna have his baby, you'll get a six month notice before we conceive."

"Thank you for that."

They spent December 31st ordering take out from three different places and binging Empire. When it got to the time for real festivities to begin, they turned the tv to where Eddie said he was going to be performing.

"So that's your beau. He's not bad", Robin complimented. "How's the rest of the band?"

"They're great. I think you and Jeff would really get along. He's actually really into brass instruments too. And Gareth knows a bunch of nerd languages."

"You mean like Klingon and Elvish?"

"And apparently he's learning Atlantean."

Midnight came and Steve kissed her forehead and Robin kissed his cheek.

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

The next day, he was packed and ready to hop on his flight. Robin dropped him off and hugged him tight enough to hold him over until the next time they met. His ticket was first class again and when he landed in Austin, he was already feeling a tingling under his skin. He missed his alpha. Need his scent, his touch, the rumble of his voice.

Because of this, while he loved the other CC boys, he was a little disappointed to see them awaiting his arrival and not Eddie.

"The Ed-man had to finish something in the studio last minute", Gareth explained as they led Steve to the car.

"Thanks for picking me up, guys", Steve certainly preferred them over a stranger from Uber.

Grant drove the way back, taking them to a mansion that had Steve's jaw dropping. He was no stranger to big houses, but he was used to them being simply for status. They'd been grand but sterile, devoid of any personality. The moment Steve stepped in, he could see that wasn't true for this place. He could pick out each of the resident's scents, could see each of their quirks as he was given a tour of the place.

They saved Eddie's room for last and he found out when Eddie barreled down the hallway to meet them at his door.

"They're really good pack", Steve said as Jeff, Grant, and Gareth left the two of them alone.

"I knew I could trust them with you." Then Eddie kissed him about six times. "For all the missed mistletoe." Then again. "For New Year's."

Steve laughed against his lips. "You gonna show me the bedroom anytime soon? I'd love to lie down, Daddy."

Eddie bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden as he slowly opened the door. Steve wanted to take in everything. After all, a bedroom could tell you a lot about a person. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the bed situation and what was sitting on the bench in front of it. There was a thin quilt turning it into a canopy bed, much like the den Eddie had made in their hotel room back in New York.

Steve recognized the pattern from what he'd heard before. Jeff's handiwork. And by the foot of the bed was a small bench where a collection of clothes sat. Steve went right to them and took a whiff of the first shirt. It was so undeniably Eddie, he would have thought his neck was pressed to his nose were he not still by the door.

Then he picked up a tank top and caught notes of lemon and ginger. "Are these...?"

"I tried to scent a lot of stuff before you got here, the boys helped out too. I hope that was okay?" His hands were stuck in his pockets and his back was tensed like he might run.

"It's more than okay", Steve reassured him.

"And the den? You like it? I can always change it if you don't. We've got tons of linens here, all that can be scented in a moment's notice and-"

"Eddie", Steve put a hand to his arm. "It's great. Now...", he held up one of the garments. "Help me nest?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded. He followed Steve's lead as they arranged everything on the bed for maximum comfort. Once Steve was satisfied, he sank down into it, smirking when he saw the way Eddie gingerly lied down next to him.

"Your first time doing a heat?", Steve asked.

"I've been around omegas in heat before. Just not as the uh, let's say star alpha", Eddie admitted.

Steve turned so his back was against Eddie's chest and pulled his arm over him. It took Eddie a moment, but he got comfortable and melted against his body. The exhaustion from the flight and being up for hours finally got to him and Steve closed his eyes.

When he opened them hours later, his body was warm and he felt a wetness between his legs.

Part 13

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

THE LAST CHAPTER

& EPILOGUE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Thanks to @b-afterhours for helping me with the language. Picture credit to @hiddlelecki

It was obvious Robin had done something to destroy for Eric, and the only thing I could see it could be, was the relationship with Lotti. The relationship with Simone wasn't good enough to feel a victory over by destroying, and it didn't have anything to do with their relationship either. The thing the two of them had fought about their whole lives was the love from their parents, so it must be that Robin had taken away from Eric.

Eric didn't see Lotti; Lotti even believed he was dead, but that seemed to be his own decision—not anything Robin had forced him to, but Eric grieved his relationship with Lotti, even so loudly he cried over her like a little child. Once again I thought back on Eric's hurt look I had inflicted, and I swallowed dryly. I owed it to him to get to the bottom of this, and if Robin didn't want to talk to me, I must find someone else, someone who had been by Lotti's side more than her sons had in recent years.

×××

I had visited Lotti several times at the home and started to get used to the procedure, but that day I wasn't there to visit her but to talk with someone else; Fiona, her contact nurse, who had the closest relationship to her of all the nurses. I didn't know if she would give me anything because of the patient's confidentiality agreement, but I needed to at least give it a try for both Lotti and Eric. They deserved having a functional relationship, and something obviously stood in the way for that to happen—something Robin had created.

At the reception stood a young nurse I recognized, and with a small smile I asked for Fiona.

“She's with a resident right now, but if you want to, you can wait for her here.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll do that then. Would you let her know I'm here? I just have some questions.” The nurse nodded with a bright smile before turning her gaze back to a laptop. I looked around while waiting and felt my nerves going up by just standing there. Fiona might refuse to talk to me. After ten minutes, I saw her come out from the door behind the reception, and when she saw me, she smiled.

“Here to see Lotti?”

I took a deep inhale and approached the reception again.

“No, I want to talk to you actually.”

Fiona looked at me surprised but then nodded a little.

“Is it a sensitive topic?”

I nodded, and it made Fiona nod too, and then she gestured to me to follow her.

She took me to a little room with a view over the yard and with four armchairs. It felt like the room where they told family members someone had died, and it made me a bit uncomfortable, but I still sat down in one of the armchairs while Fiona fixed coffee from the machine in the corner.

She sat down with a loud exhalation and corrected her ponytail.

“So what can I help you with?”

I looked down at my phone and looked through my phone’s gallery. It was full of pictures of Eric. It wasn't weird; he was so photogenic it would be a crime not to photograph him. I found a picture, modest but sweet, to show Fiona. He sat on the couch, occupied with his sketchbook, brows furrowing deeply. He wore an acid patterned t-shirt; in many of my pictures, he was shirtless. I gave her my phone, and she looked at the picture of him and nodded a little.

“The son she lost?” Fiona said carefully. My gaze lowered into my lap, avoiding the question, but she probably believed it was a yes.

“Did he ever visit her?

Fiona laid my phone on the table and gave me an empathetic look.

“I can't talk about that.”

“But I don't mean to know anything about Lotti, I just want to know if he was here. Fiona looked between my phone on the table and me. My eyes were glassy, and I tried to make my hands stop shaking by dragging them over my jeans-clad thighs. Fiona licked her lips and then nodded.

“Once… Not long before his accident happened. He… He didn't look like he felt so good…” She said everything low, like she was afraid someone would hear her. “Then it was so... It was really awful—his last meeting with his mom, and she didn't recognize him. Robin told me she more or less had screamed at him, and,” Fiona pointed to my phone. “He ran away. I didn't get a chance to talk to him and explain it was a bad day.”

I swallowed hard and dragged my hands over my cheeks. I couldn't even imagine what happened in Eric's head when his mom didn't recognize him, but I could also guess what Lotti saw instead of her youngest son. I had seen the pictures of the unhealthy Eric, thin and pale, hollow-eyed, and then on top of that, all his tattoos. The meeting must have been heartbreaking for Eric. His loving mom screamed in terror at seeing him, the person he loved the most judging him. I laid my hands over my face when I once again could hear my own words to him. Fucking junkie. I was the worst human ever.

“I can't tell you more; I've already said too much…” said Fiona, and I nodded.

“Thank you, thank you…” I said when I had removed my hands from my face. Fiona gave me a small

smile before we said goodbye.

×××

I sat on a bench in one of my town's parks even if the wind blew cold. I looked at Eric's number on my phone. I didn't want anything else than to call him and beg him to forgive me, but I had already done that once, and it felt like it was harder to defend my right to do it.

I wanted to be able to say something real to him—not just whine and beg again, but it also felt like I had something to say.

I tried to paint up a timeline in my head, and for everything I put on it, a more and more clearer picture grew in front of me.

Eric Senior; Robin and Eric's father had died, and it had made Eric lose his footing again. Once again, he started to use drugs. Lotti got in an accident, causing her stroke, and when she met Eric, she couldn't recognize him. Robin got him into rehab, but they also said to Lotti that Eric was dead.

Looking at the timeline, it felt obvious what was missing. Robin had never told Eric it was just a bad day, that Lotti did remember him but just had a confused day. He had let Eric believe his mom saw him just as a druggy guy. Robin had taken his mom away from Eric when he had the chance and left Eric alone, without a family.

I let my tears run down my cheeks slowly while I looked down at the ground. My heart was bleeding for Eric, but I also felt so fooled by Robin. He had been my best friend for two years, and never had I thought he was capable of such an evil crime. I couldn't see another reason to do it than just punish him for being the favorite son, but with this, it became even more understandable why Eric was the favorite. He had a heart of gold, while Robin obviously could let his heart become stone.

Eric needed to know this as fast as possible; he had already missed so much time with Lotti.

×××

It wouldn't be easy to get Eric to listen to me; I knew that, but that didn't make it any less frustrating when he didn't pick up when I called him. I called him every day that week while working in the salon. Robin was sick, but I was quite certain the truth was he didn't want to meet me.

When the weekend came, I had decided to go to Eric, but to my surprise my sister showed up with Odin. I didn't think Robin would keep our schedule, but clearly he would. Desiree looked at me irritated when she just dropped Odin's leash so he could give his wild hello to me.

“Are you fighting again? Come on, you too shouldn't have a dog together!”

I sighed a little while patting Odin's dark fur. It looked like Eric's hair, but Eric's hair was much softer. “He refused to see you.”

“Yeah, because he lied to his mom about Eric being dead,” I said with a pointed look. Desiree looked at me with big eyes; once again, the gossip devil burned in her eyes.

“Seriously??”

“Yeah, because he's jealous. If I could, I would crush his nose!”

“That's insane! But are you and Eric a couple now?”

I gave her a pained look.

“It's so fucking messy, but I will fix it. I know it sounds silly, but I can't live without him. I can't breathe right without him.”

Desiree smiled a little at me and nodded. She probably started to understand Dante wasn't the real deal, Eric was.

“What is your plan?”

“I must go to him and tell him about Robin so he can fix his relationship with his mom. It's a super long story... But his story.”

I meant it wasn't my story to tell, and Desiree nodded, but she looked disappointed. She wanted more gossip.

“But now you have Odin, will you wait-”

I stop her with a head shake.

“No, I'll bring him. Eric loves him. He loves Eric more than anyone else.”

She giggled. “More than you?”

“Totally. I'm the third wheel with them.”

Desiree giggled, then gave me a hug.

“Fix this then. I want to know how dad reacts when you have a boyfriend with Lovecraft on his back.”

I smiled warmly at her but also nervously, not because of my dad's love for gothic literature but because I couldn't mess this up now when Desiree rooted for me.

×××

“Please open Eric! Please!” I shouted outside of his door. I didn't know if he chose to not open it or if he actually wasn't home. “Eric!”

Odin barked twice, but not even that made Eric open the door. I walked to my car again and tried to find a solution. I looked at Odin in the seat next to me, and he looked at me with one eyebrow lifted and eyes full of worry that I wouldn't fix this.

“We will fix something for us to eat and take a long walk and maybe a nap because we will visit someone late tonight…” I said to him and patted his head and ear.

I bought us each a hamburger, not the best dog food, but for one night it was okay, then I tried to make the time pass by walking around; it was boring as hell, but at 00.30 am we could finally go to Jackie’s. I didn't care that it was desperate; I was desperate.

Jackie opened with a smirk. He was obviously high and didn't even give us a confused look. I let Odin's leash go; that way Jackie or anyone else couldn’t easily kick us out. Odin ran into the living room so fast he slipped on the floor. That kind of joy could only mean Eric was there. My heart speeded up at once, and for a few seconds I wanted to turn around and flee.

“Eric is here if you’re searching for him, but I don't think he wants to see you,” said Jackie teasingly. Normally I would answer such teasing with attitude, but now I just swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. Jackie turned to the living room but stopped in the doorway, probably because of my big dog. I looked at myself with the help of the front camera on my phone. I had fixed my makeup and hair earlier in the car, but now, with the nerves, it felt like it all had fallen. After that, I finally brought myself together and walked into the living room. The scene there looked like it usually did. Five guys listening to music, drinking cheap beer, and smoking herbal joints. The air was heavy with the spicy smoke and the mist hung in the air for a long time after someone had exhaled.

Eric had moved down to the floor to cuddle with Odin, and he lay on his back while the dog licked his face almost sensually. I wanted to lay down with them but knew that would be too much, so I sat down on the armrest of the couch. His friends looked at me with big eyes, but none of them would get themselves involved in our mess. Eric sat up and pushed Odin away when he started to get way too excited, and with a snap of his fingers, he got him to lay down on the floor next to him. Odin looked at me pleased, and I envied him for how easy it was for him. When I looked at Eric, he looked away. I had planned to be cool in front of his friends but forgot all about that when he finally looked at me. The sob and tears came from nowhere, and even if I didn't see anyone's expression, I knew everyone in the room was uncomfortable.

Eric didn't let me sit and cry in front of his friends for a long time, he was too kind to do that and took my hand so we could get away.

He guided me out to the hallway and succeeded in having Odin as a tail.

“We’ll take a walk, okay?” He said lowly to me, and then he put on his khaki-colored vans and his long black coat. I put on my outerwear with some struggle, and when I was finished, Eric stood with Odin, leashed by the door.

We walked in silence, the only thing we could hear was my nose that couldn't stop running and Odin's claws landing on the concrete. I looked carefully at Eric, who looked sad and disappointed. I hated the look, and especially that it was me who had caused it.

“I want to say sorry three hundred times for what I said to you—that I accused you of taking those pills, but it isn't why I am here, or not just that reason.”

Eric gave me a quick look but then looked away, uninterested.

“It's about Lotti. Why did you stop seeing her?”

Eric scoffed after a while and shook his head.

“None of your business.”

His answer had some attitude, and even if it was just a little, it surprised me.

“Is it because she forgot you?”

Eric scoffed again and looked down at the ground. He really tried to have a cold attitude, but he was too bad at concealing his real emotions.

“She hasn't forgotten you-”

“Fuck Della! Please, why do you do this?” He said, irritated, and stopped to look straight at me. I stopped just in front of him and looked up at his face.

“She hasn't forgotten you; she misses you all the time-”

“I've met her! She threw a fucking glass at me! She has forgotten me, okay?!” His voice was loud now, but it didn't feel scary because it was such understandable frustration and pain.

“It was just then. It was just that moment. She forgets me too; the next time she's her normal self again. Robin has lied to you. She talks about you all the time and is broken without you!”

My voice was also loud now, to make him listen and shut him up. It worked because Eric stood and looked at me with big, glassy eyes they gave more light than the street light next to us.

“...what?” He said after a while, with a small voice.

“It's a lie, Eric. She hasn't forgotten you. She believes you're dead because that's what Robin said to her, and you believe she has lost the memory of you, but she hasn't! She thinks about you daily!”

I looked at him straight in the eyes, even if they shifted round and round. He dragged his hands over his face and dropped Odin's leash, but he stood by his side anyway. Big tattooed hands covered his face while sob after sob left his mouth. I wanted to hug him but didn't dare, but when he started to cry uncontrollably and was forced to sit down on the ground, I sat down in front of him.

“You can meet her, baby... You can be with your mom again…” I said calmly, and it made him lean his forehead against my shoulder. I took that as an invitation to hug him, and it caused him to unleash his feelings again. He cried loudly in a way I never heard a grown man cry before, and that made it even more heartbreaking. He wasn't a man at that moment, he was Lotti's little boy.

I hugged him hard with Odin sitting close to us, and Eric hugged me around my waist like he was much smaller than he was. I wiped his tears over and over, hushing him, but it took so long for him to calm down. He was shaking when he looked at me with red eyes and nose.

“I want to go home,” he said, wiping his eyes and nose with the backside of his hand. I nodded and dried away a tear on his jaw.

“Let's get home.”

×××

He calmed down quite quickly at home and let me help him take off his clothes down to his boxers and then bundle him up in bed. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he had a serious cold; he both acted and looked like a sick person, but he was just upset. I sat down on the edge of the bed and forced him to drink a glass of water. He looked at me with his red-rimmed eyes. I was prepared for him to turn his back against me, but instead he pulled my top and pants like he wanted me to take them off.

“Do you want me to lay here with you?” I asked softly, and I got a nod back.

I took off my clothes close to the bed—so close he could drag his hand over my leg while I did it. It was obvious my skin was calming to him, and he tried to feel as much as he could. When I just wore my bra and panties, he looked up at me, then stretched out his arm and pulled in my panties. He did it again when I looked at him pointedly, so I pulled both them and my bra off. He lifted the cover so I could crawl down next to him, but he pulled me up over him. I sat up, straddling his hips to be able to look into his eyes.

“I love you, and we should talk and all that, but... I need you now, please. I need you now.” He said with a low voice while pulling down his boxers. I nodded and leaned down to kiss his lips. After that, I didn't drag it out; I let him slip into me, and I rode him until he couldn't handle anymore. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

×××

I asked so many times if he had forgiven me, and he said yes, and that he loved me, every time. He could see that both of our emotions had been wild in every way lately, but I still continued to say I was sorry for a long time.

I had hoped he would want to see Lotti at once, but something held him back, so it wasn't until two weeks later he dared to come to my town to visit her. I would talk to her together with Fiona the day before so she wouldn't get a heart attack from the news. Robin hadn't tried anything to stop us from seeing her, and maybe he had given up. I tried to tell myself he wanted to do the right thing, but to be honest, I didn't know. It felt like I didn't know him.

Fiona and I looked at Lotti as she fixed coffee for all three of us and searched for some biscuits, but they seemed to have disappeared, in some sort of way. She was a bit confused that day but still in a good mood, and me and Fiona waited patiently on her to not destroy the good mood. She needed to be calm to be able to hear that her youngest son was still alive.

“I don't need any biscuits; I think just coffee sounds great!” Said Fiona optimistically to not make Lotti sad.

“Yeah, same,” said I, so Lotti would sit down with us. She gave us a bit of a bothered look but accepted what we had said and sat down by the little table with us and took a sip of her coffee. I looked at Fiona to have permission to talk, and she gave me a nod. She had never heard anything like Eric's story before, so neither she knew the best way to do it.

“Lotti, I am here to tell you something, something great, really, really great but strange,” I began and smiled nervously. She looked at me with a bright smile, like she thought I would tell her I had a bottle of wine in my handbag.

“Eric, Eric is alive and wants to see you.”

Lotti stared at me, then turned towards Fiona with an upset face; she probably wondered if I was lying.

“It's true, Lotti,” said Fiona, who had talked with Eric over a video call.

I could see how Lotti's face changed in slow motion from anger and confusion to laughing in disbelief.

“What are you saying? Are you trying to give a sick lady a heart attack?” She said with a laugh while wiping away tears with a plaid handkerchief. I took her other hand in mine and smiled at her.

“Eric is alive, Lotti.”

“But Robin..?” The emotions swam in her eyes, and I could also see disappointment, like she knew Robin had lied. I just nodded a little; she got to interpret that however she wanted, but she didn't seem to have time to because she laughed and cried in a beautiful mix of emotion.

“But where is he then??”

“He's at my place. We thought you maybe needed some time-”

“Time?! You say my son is alive, and you think I need time to calm down?? I need to see him! I'm his mother! I should see him now!”

Now Lotti sounded angry, and Fiona patted her shoulder a little.

“Delilah, maybe you can tell him to come, while Lotti, you can rest a bit on the bed?”

“Rest?! I want to see my son!”

“Lotti,” said Fiona, giving her a strict look. “This is a big thing, so you should be rested when Eric comes here, right? So he can see you at your best.”

Lotti looked irritated and wiped away some more angry tears, but then listened to Fiona and went to bed.

Seeing Eric in the reception of Lotti's home was surreal even for me, and it seemed so even for Fiona. She looked at him up and down like she really was seeing a ghost, but she also smiled a little embarrassed when he took off his long coat and showed off muscular tattooed arms in a black t-shirt that also hinted about the rest of his fit body. I smiled big with every positive feeling in my body but also to calm Eric down, who looked so worried.

“Sometimes you're the only thing she talks about... She has been angry at me now because she can't wait,” said Fiona with a giggle. It felt like she acted differently in front of Eric, and to make things a little more clear, I took Eric's hand in mine. He smiled nervously at Fiona and then at me but didn't say anything. I knew talking to new people wasn't his thing and especially not when he was nervous.

“I’ll go in and see if she's ready,” said Fiona, and Eric gave her a little smile.

When we were alone, he leaned down to kiss my lips, then rested his forehead against mine. I laid my hands on his cheeks and breathed deeply together with him.

“I'm so fucking nervous... It feels like I will throw up…”

“It's Lotti. Your mom, no one else, you will feel better at once when you have seen her.”

He nodded and moved away from me so he could smile at me. I smiled back brightly, high on love, and fixed his hair and played a little with his dagger earring.

“You're so handsome.”

He shrugged his shoulders but kissed me with a smile. I let our tongues say hello a couple of times before I giggled into his mouth.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Most in the entire world.” He whispered and kissed me again.

I left them alone to have their meeting to themselves. Just like I most often wanted Eric to myself, I knew Lotti felt the same. Eric was everything, after all.

×××

Epilogue

Mine and Eric's lives changed drastically after he and Lotti had a relationship again. He wanted to be close to her as much as he could, so after a couple of months, he moved into my apartment. Robin fled from us to another town but still visited his mother. Odin became mine and Eric's dog. It wasn't anything we discussed; it just happened.

My mom succeeded in finding a job for Eric. He was skeptical at first when he heard it was at a daycare and couldn't understand how my mom could feel that was a good idea, but after just a few months, he went from being an extra staff member to getting himself established employment. The whole thing was so sweet, and sometimes I just went by the daycare to see him play in the sand with the kids or have three of them climb his long limbs.

Life was good for thirteen months, without really any big problems, but then Eric's beloved mother had another stroke and left us without a warning. It led to Eric getting depressed again, but with a stronger, better safety net, he didn't fall down the hole with drugs, but he still ended up sleeping for weeks and weeks while I tried to encourage him to do something instead, but he didn't listen. He just wanted to sleep.

It was a sunny March day, and he finally wanted to leave the apartment. He had lost a lot of his muscles and was a skinnier version of himself. He had moved to the couch from the bed a couple of weeks before but now felt so good he even smiled when we spoke.

“Do you want company?” I asked while he put on his running gear. He shook his head with a smile.

“I just want to clear out my head; I can take Odin, though.”

He gave me a peck on the lips when he had tied his shoes, and I gave him several more after that. He smiled at me and then buried his nose in my neck.

“I can make tartar tonight.”

“Really?” I said excitedly and lifted his head so I could look at his smiling face.

“Yeah, with your help and a better alcoholic-free wine than the last time.”

He didn't even drink anymore, and I glowed with pride when he said it. He had made so much progress. But life has a tendency to break when it is finally good. I wasn't even worried when Eric left our home with Odin. I had been that in the beginning of our relationship, but now I felt sure he wouldn't do anything crass; the only thing I didn't think about was that there were also things like bad luck.

The first thing I noticed was that he was out running for a longer time than usual, but I thought he probably just needed some more time in the fresh air. When he had been out two and a half hours, I started to think about calling him, but it was then an unknown number called me. I thought about not answering, but something made me do it anyway. I regretted at once doing it because the thing they said was nothing I wanted to hear. I knew something had happened as soon as they said they were calling from the hospital and wondered about my relationship with Eric.

“I'm his fiancee; has something happened?” I said worriedly and held on to a chair in front of me. I rarely called myself his fiancee because it sounded a bit silly to me, but I was, he had proposed to me in the October sun, at a farmer's market. It was spontaneous, like he often was, but straight from the heart. He didn't have a ring, so we bought one together instead. I didn't care that he couldn't afford one by himself; that wasn't important.

“We want you to come down here; it's good if you bring a friend with you,” said the nurse.

“What happened??” I asked, upset because that sentence made it seem like something was really, really wrong.

“Eric has been in an accident, but it's best if you come down here instead.”

I started to cry on the phone because if it was good, or at least if there was hope, they would have told me.

I brought Desiree with me, who came and got me in her car. I just cried and cried in panic while she tried to say it was probably not as bad as I thought, but it felt like not even she believed it. At the hospital, they took me to a similar room I had spoken with Fiona in. Desiree hugged my hand in hers because now she couldn't pretend it wasn’t worse than it was.

“Eric came in with a gunshot wound in his chest an hour ago. He had stepped in and tried to stop a fight between some teenage boys without knowing one of them was armed… We did everything we could to stop the bleeding, but... I'm sorry, but he didn't survive.”

..

.

…

How do you react when the love of your life gets taken away from you so fast? How do you react when they tell you how unfair life is?

Eric had come jogging with Odin in one of the rougher parts of town. He didn't think much about it because he had always been in those sorts of areas and people had respect for him. He was tall and built and tattooed in a way that made some believe he was in a gang.

The teenagers were just fifteen, and in his eyes it looked like kids having a fist fight. Other people let them fight; they either didn't care or didn't have the courage to do something, not even when one of the boys lay on the ground, getting kick after kick towards his head and neck. Eric acted on impulse. Fear was nothing that held him back, and if he thought something was wrong, he would jump in, so he did. People around saw how calm he was, how he acted like a safe grown up and got the kids to move away, everyone except one who acted just as impulsive as Eric.

It was his older brother's gun. He had brought it to be cool, but he fired it when he felt powerless, shooting Eric in the chest once and Odin in the neck twice. People around just looked at the mess for several minutes while Eric disappeared slowly from the world. Odin had left it behind at once. My fiance lay several minutes without receiving help until a young couple ran up to them, even if the boy still held the weapon pointed towards Eric. The boy was in shock, seeing the grown man on the ground fighting for his life. Another man succeeded in taking the gun, and others around called 911, but their help was too little, too late.

Eric died in the ambulance. He never even saw the harsh light of the emergency room.

How do you react when a kind soul as Eric dies while he tries to do good? How do you react when someone who has fought his whole life dies in such an awful way?

They showed me his body. They had tried to make the room look nice with dimmed light and him lying on a covered observation table, but it couldn't be nice because then they showed me Eric's lifeless face, pale and relaxed. His face had changed because of the relaxed muscles. He looked much softer but still so regal with his high cheekbones.

How do you react to seeing the man you love not breathing? How do you react when you realize that everything the people have said is true?

Eric didn't exist anymore. The light had left his eyes, his voice just living inside of me. The magic was gone forever, and I was left behind. My whole little unit disappeared on the same day. My fiance and our dog. My whole life. I didn't have a life anymore.

×××

I didn't cry after leaving the hospital. A numbness took over—a feeling of resignation. Crying was for people who were cleansing, that tried to move on, I wouldn't move on. Tears were a relief, making tension disappear. I didn't need that. I didn't have any tensions, I wasn't scared, and I wasn't vindictive because I didn't have a future. I was just as dead as Eric.

I could feel everyone around me staring. I just sat on the couch, looking straight forward. Even Robin stretched a hand out but I didn't give him any response. My family thought about calling the psychiatric hospital but let it be, they thought I would come out of the daze I was in. They were wrong, so wrong. It wasn't even a daze; it was my reality. They believed I was stuck in grief, but I had left all earthly feelings behind. They lay forgotten on the hospital floor.

If there is nothing left for you at the party, you should leave it; you will have it better at home. I needed home again—Eric's warm embrace.

If my family knew what I was thinking, they would have taken me to a hospital, but it wouldn't really matter. It was too late. I would have done it anyway.

They had taken me to my parents house so I could live there. They thought I just needed love and comfort, but I couldn't even understand what they tried to do because I wasn't there; I just searched for an exit. They didn't believe I would go out in the dead of night in my trance-like state. I already had found my exit. I didn't have time to spill; I needed to go to Eric.

The exit was at the central station, the trains came all hours of the day, even in the dead of the night. It was easy. My party was over, and I needed to come home to Eric. It was easy.

.

..

…

I recognized the place at once. I had been there many times—oh, so many times. I was at my old street again, by the playground. It wasn't as dark as it had been the last time I was there; all the streetlights were on, and the sky shifted in a warm peach color. The sun was on its way up. I looked around, seeing if there was someone there; it was, I heard a loud bark. I recognized that bark so well, and it made me shiver in comfort. I laughed when Odin came running, and I sat down on the ground to let him give me a proper hello. While he licked my neck, I heard footsteps in the gravel. I wouldn't even need to look up to know who it was, but why wouldn't I want to do that? I stood up and looked at my tall fiance standing there, looking like he did in the prime of his life. His cheeks were a bit rosy from the coldness in the park, but still he just wore a black t-shirt with his khaki cargo pants.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile, and I threw myself around his neck at once, without even thinking. His warm embrace caught me. I was home again. He laughed a little and then kissed me. I couldn't stop, and when we had started, we let it become a make-out session. I giggled into the kisses, and I could feel him smile.

“Did you get to decide on a meeting place again? Fuck, I thought it was my turn now!”

I laughed and dragged my fingers through the hair in his neck.

“So you remember this place?”

“Yeah, from when I was in the coma. I didn't remember the girl's face though, but it was you… the whole time.” He hugged my waist while looking me deep my eyes.

“I never dared to tell you about my dreams; I would have sounded like a stalker.”

“More than you already did, you mean?” He teased, and I hit him playfully on the arm, but then we laughed together. He gave me a soft kiss but then looked at me seriously.

“You shouldn't have taken your life, babe. You had so much to live for.”

He looked sad, but I wasn't really. I felt bad for my family, but I wasn't sad; I was with Eric.

“I think it was meant to be. Here we are, the three of us again-”

“Four.”

“Hm?”

He pointed to a light pole, and I looked up at it where Crow sat, looking down at us.

“He has guided me back two times; I know he will guide me away today. To my parents.”

I looked at him seriously.

“And I will follow you wherever you go.”

Eric looked at me examining with big green eyes. The mesmerizing eyes. He nodded and looked up at Crow.

“I love you most in the entire world, you know," I said with a giggle and took his hand in mine. He smiled at me and kissed my hand.

“And I love you most in the entire world and wherever we will go!” He said it playfully. I giggled, because I wasn't afraid. Eric looked at Odin, then at Crow. The bird made a caw and lifted his wings. I knew that was the signal, and when Crow lifted from the light pole, all three of us followed him towards the sun.

×

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 12

Author's note: Sorry about these chapters being so short btw 🙈 I could put two together, but then the story would be shorter, and what is going to be happening next makes more sense the way it is divided right now. So... yeah. Sorry 🫣

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Merry Christmas, neighbour."

"Merry Christmas, Rúben" I smiled.

"Did you check if I'm under your tree?" 

"Haven't gone downstairs yet, but that doesn't look like my grandma's living room" I said, squinting my eyes at my phone's screen. "And who said you were what I asked Father Christmas for?"

"Oh, yes. Why ask for something that already is yours" he said with that smirk of his. Thank God it was still dark in my room and he couldn't properly see how badly I was blushing. "Any news about your parents?"

"Nope, nothing. Only that my uncle and his family will come later to say hello."

"Are they team dad too?"

"They are team I don't want to get in trouble. But what about you? How did the night go?"

"It was ok, just the four of us."

"Any plans for today?"

"My mum is cooking, so that will definitely cheer us all. And I'll stop by Lucy's place to give Julia her present."

"What did you get her?"

"A new Elsa costume with a wig and heels."

"Oh, she's gonna love it. And drive us all crazy with the noise those heels are gonna make."

"Well, the one living downstairs is Mrs. Jones, so I don't feel sorry for her."

"Rúben!" I laughed. "Poor woman, she's just alone and wants some attention from a hot young man."

"Did you just call me hot?" 

"I... My grandma is calling me."

"Yeah, sure" he chuckled.

"It's true." And as if hearing me, she opened my room's door, turning on the light.

"Sorry to interrupt, sweetie, I heard you laughing" she said. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

"One minute."

"Say hello to your grandma" Rúben said.

"Who is that? Are you talking with a man?" grandma asked, her eyes going wide.

"It's just an Instagram video."

"And why did I hear the word grandma? Who is he?"

"No one."

"Then why is your face so red?" 

"Grandma, it is no one" I insisted.

"Ok... I'll see you downstairs" she said, closing the door.

"Thank you for that, Rúben."

"I was just being polite" he said with an innocent smile.

"Don't you dare smile at me like that" I said, trying to sound pissed. "She's not gonna let it go, you know? She's probably telling my grandad downstairs already."

"And?"

"Yesterday they spent hours trying to find me a boyfriend among the Arsenal players. If they find out I’m talking with a man…"

"You were talking with a friend that happens to be a man. I don't know why you can't tell them that" he shrugged.

"Because they won't believe me. In case you haven't noticed, the colour of my face gives it all away."

"So they'll know you fancy me."

"I don't..."

"You don't like me? C'mon. You've said it yourself, your face gives it all away. And if you didn't like me, you wouldn't have kissed me back. You wouldn't have let me kiss you at all."

“I just… I…”

“You like me. Say it. Make it my Christmas present.”

“What?”

“Repeat after me: I like you, Rúben.”

“I…”

“Yes?” he said while arching an eyebrow, that smirk of his starting to show.

“Fine. I like you, Rúben” I said, covering my face with my free hand the moment those words left my mouth.

“You are so cute” he laughed. “Thank you for making my Christmas morning ten times better.” 

“Yeah, sure” I chuckled, still avoiding to look at him on my screen.

“You did. Anyway, I gotta go check on Ivan. Keep me updated about your day, ok?”

“You too.”

“Merry Christmas, neigbour.”

“Merry Christmas, Rúben.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“So, who is he?” grandad asked the moment I sat down to have breakfast.

“Who is… Grandma!”

“We have no secrets, sweetie” she shrugged. “And to be honest, your smile right now would have told us something happened, and you know you are the worst at keeping secrets.”

“He is just a friend who happens to be a man, nothing else” I said, repeating what Rúben had told me earlier.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that after speaking with any of your other friends, boys or girls” grandma said. “He must be special.”

“I’m smiling because he made a joke and I was still thinking about it, not because I fancy him.”

“What’s his name?” grandad asked.

“Does it matter?”

“We’ll call him Mr. X, then.”

“Please don’t” I quickly said. “It sounds…”

“Like the name of someone who does movies for adults” grandma giggled.

“Ok, fine. Then at least tell us the first letter of his name.”

“R.”

“Mr. R? Nah, that sounds weird. Richard. Let’s call him Richard. Rich. Richy.”

“Ricky, like Ricky Martin” grandma said. “Is he as attractive as Ricky Martin?”

“The poor girl probably doesn’t know who Ricky Martin is, love” grandad said. “She is too young.”

“I know who he is. But we can call him Richy.” The idea of calling someone the size of Rúben, Richy, was too funny. “And he isn’t ugly.”

“Oh, she is finally telling us something! How did you meet?” grandma asked.

“He is our neighbour.”

“So he is attractive and posh.”

“He isn’t posh.”

“Attractive and rich. He is a catch” grandma winked. “What does he do for a living?”

“He…” I couldn’t say that he was a football player. They would go nuts. “He works for Manchester City.” Which wasn’t a lie. 

“Is he a football player?” grandad asked, raising his voice. “Which players do I know whose name starts with an R?”

“I said that he works for them, not that he is a player.”

“What does he do, then? Work office? If he is living in that building, he must have one of the big and important jobs” grandma said.

“Something like that, yes. I don’t know the details.”

“Rodri?” grandad asked.

“Who?”

“That’s the only City player I know whose name starts with an R. Is he your neighbour? He is Spanish, so is Lucy, and you speak Spanish. It makes sense.”

“She was speaking with him in English, not Spanish. And besides, she said he isn’t a player, he does office work” grandma pointed out.

“Shame. He doesn’t look like a bad lad. Though Ramsdale is way better, you’ll see” grandad said, back to eating his breakfast.

And that’s where the conversation ended, with him going back to talking about tomorrow's game and how excited he was about me meeting Ramsdale. 

[shirohige-pirates]

Just Like Fire

CisFem Reader x Portgas D. Ace

CW: angst, language, erotic, violence, serial killer, stalking, poisoning, over-bearing controlling parents, attempted forced marriage, possible dub-con, Munchausen by proxy (aka Factitious Disorder), wildly cute and fluffy despite the warnings. 18+ only

Summary: You're Sabo's biological sister in this AU. After college you moved in with your dear brother and his two sworn brothers in order to avoid going back home. You and Sabo despise your family equally.

Tags: @fiestynatureweeb @nalleanna @airwolf92 @art3misa635 @sleepisfortheweakpooh @ghostfacefricker6969 @harahettania @mfreedomstuff

Chapter 22: 3 to 1

When you and Ace arrived at the All Blue it was still busy. You were there about ten minutes before closing and while no new customers were coming in, at least half the tables were still occupied. A severe-looking man with cropped green hair had been standing guard at the front doors, but he’d let you and Ace through.

“Zoro turns away customers for Sanji when the place gets busy to this point. Business is good, but getting your staff home at a decent hour is more important, at least to Lyn and Sanji.” Ace says as the two of you work your way through the restaurant to the bar.

The bartender that Ace had pointed out the last time gives you both a smile. “Ace, are you here to help close?” She asks and he nods.

“Sabo’s sister needed to talk to Sanji about something, so we volunteered to help free up some time for him, what can we do to help?”

“Ah, if you can get the tables and booths cleaned up that are empty, that’d help. Zoro can’t help until we can lock up, and we’re going to be a bit with the last few tables tonight.” She says, and looks toward you. “I’m Lyn.” She reaches out a hand, shaking yours.

“Quill,” you say. “Sabo’s mysterious sister.”

“Ever worked in a restaurant?” Lyn prompts, and you can tell from her grin she’s expecting you to say no before you even say it.

“Ah, no.”

Her grin breaks into a full smile. “It’s okay, there’s plenty of easy stuff to do. Our dishwasher could probably use an extra set of hands, how’re your shoes?”

“My shoes?” You question looking down. “I’ve got the sneakers I wore camping earlier on.”

“That’s good, better’n being in heels. I’ll introduce you, don’t worry, Duval’s bad at winking, but if you can help him stack trays he can get the dishes washed faster.” Lyn nods for you to follow her, lifting a section of the bar and having you come back.

The kitchen is brighter than the front of the house, and there’s almost eight other people back there. One of them is a tall man who would probably tower over Ace, with blond hair and a smile that seems a bit strained. Lyn introduced the two of you and had Duval show you how to stack trays so you could help him out.

It wasn’t difficult work, but it was more physical than you were used to. Grateful for your nap earlier and the fact that you weren’t fighting against your mother’s “medicine” anymore, you managed to be more of a help than hindrance; Duval only had to fix a couple of your trays.

Once the last of the customers are gone and the place is nearly closed up and cleaned, you, Ace, Lyn, and Sanji are sitting in a back booth while the last couple of employees finish up and leave.

“Luffy said something about you needing to ask about my brothers,” Sanji says, an apologetic look on his face. “He’s never been one for details, so I don’t know why you wanted to talk about them, but if there’s anything I can do to help you, it would be my pleasure.”

You smile, and then bite your lip a little. You make a few more gestures before Ace takes your hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m… technically, betrothed to Ichiji.” You finally manage to say and watch as both Lyn and Sanji’s eyes go wide and their jaws go slack. “Aside from the obvious fact that I don’t want to marry him, I’ve also recently learned that I am, in fact, cursed.”

Lyn’s mouth closes, but Sanji’s goes almost wider, he murmurs a swear under his breath in a foreign language and you nearly snort.

“My parents don’t know yet, and I don’t know what curse I have either,” you continue. “At least not yet, but my parents are my problem, and the details of my curse aren’t something I can control. What I need to know, what I was hoping you could tell me, was that if I tell Ichiji I’m cursed, what’s he possibly going to do?”

Sanji stares blankly for a moment, and then opens and closes his mouth a couple times before closing it and furrowing his brows. He’s quiet as he takes out a cigarette and lights it, barely inhaling before billowing smoker into the ceiling.

“Ichiji won’t marry someone who’s cursed.” He says flatly, but despite his words it doesn’t look like he’s thrilled about whatever else is on his mind. “What he’ll do in reaction is hard to say. He could lose his cool the moment you tell him, or he could decide he simply doesn’t care. The real problem would be the old man.

“Judge could make the whole thing a spectacle.” Sanji continues. “I don’t think he’d get the Celestials involved, but he could ask for heavy restitution from your family.” He pauses, shock crossing his face for a second before he takes another drag. “Er, if I can ask, how’d you learn you were cursed so late in life?”

“Oh, well… um. It seems my mother has been poisoning me most of my life,” you admit quietly. “And I think my curse saved me, but I was so weak I couldn’t do anything else with it.”

“Your mother did what?” Lyn questions before putting her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I just, that’s horrible.”

“Haaa… yeah, and it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay what she did, but I mean, you don’t have to apologize.” You clarify.

“Well, if that’s the case I can’t imagine you’ll be upset if Judge goes for your family then.” He says with a shrug. “I could be there when you meet with Ichiji, if you want? I might be disowned, but I’m not disavowed, he can’t lash out at me without any repercussions.”

You shake your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think he’s been particularly invested in any of this himself. He’s had a sense about Ace and I before I did, but even that didn’t bother him. He might be relieved, honestly.”

Sanji shakes his head. “No, relief isn’t really something he can feel. But you’re right, he might just not care.”

“The only thing that leaves then, is telling my parents.” You say, letting out a long slow breath and leaning your head on Ace’s shoulder.

“When are you meeting with Ichiji?” Sanji prompts and you look at your phone.

“Six hours? We’re supposed to meet for a brunch.” You answer.

“Ask him how far he had to travel,” Sanji says. “If he’s not in town for business and has been traveling just to meet with you, pay for that brunch yourself.” He asserts. “Even if he has been in town for business, you should still probably do that.”

“Will that help keep him calm?” You question, lifting your head off Ace’s shoulder.

Sanji nods. “Be extra polite.” He shudders. “Stoke his ego if you can manage it. He and the others are real bastards about rights versus commoners. I maintained my rights even though I didn’t want them because the Government stepped in, but with a curse… tch.”

“He’ll know that the government will bury my ties to my family.” You admit. “Yeah, I was already thinking about that. Not that it’ll make any difference if reparations are demanded.”

“You’re still royalty?” Ace questions, looking at Sanji.

Sanji shakes his head. “I sold my rights to fund this place.” He says. “But even with my rights sold my blood’s still legitimate. Ichiji and the others can’t treat me like a commoner without repercussions. Honestly, it might be the only reason the restaurant’s never been targeted.”

“But, two more months and it won’t matter.”

“Huh?” You and Ace make the same sound at the same time and Lyn and Sanji both smile.

“Germa’s only in town for another two months. With all the other islands and seas, they’ll probably never end up back on this island again.” He explains. “After that it won’t matter what my brothers think, they’ll be too far away to do anything about it.”

Ace sinks back into the booth, relaxing. “You scared me, I thought you two were going to sell the place and go elope or something.”

Lyn laughs. “We promise we’re not going to sell this place any time soon.”

“Noticing a distinct lack of promising to not elope.” You say, raising your brows a little and smiling.

Both of them flush and Sanji clears his throat. “Nami-swan and Robin-chan wouldn’t forgive us.” He insists, and Lyn nods.

“We don’t have plans to elope, but if we have to.” She lets the thought hang and you nod in understanding.

“Oh, uh, are you two busy on the fifteenth?” You question, shifting the conversation. “I figure the least I can do for all your help is invite you to enjoy delicious food with us as the 1st division celebrates my birthday. Though I suppose I could volunteer to help with closing a couple more times.”

“You’re welcome to help out here whenever you want, but it’s certainly not required. We’re both happy to have been able to help.” Lyn assures you.

“I’ll be happy to bring a large order of appetizers,” Sanji says, a bright smile on his face. “It’s been a while since I cooked for them.”

Ace puts his arms up in celebration. “I’ll let Thatch know, and he can work out the details with you.” Ace hugs you, his cheek pressed to yours. “Your first birthday here and we’re all gonna be so blessed.”

You could feel your face go hot at the exuberant display of affection, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “You sound like Luffy.” You tease.

“Oh, we’re not going to be able to tell him about this. He’ll whine constantly for the next two weeks and then he won’t sleep the night before.” Ace sighs, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, not releasing his hug.

“A-Ace.” You stammer, you can feel the familiar sensation from before and you’re worried you’re going to set Sanji’s booth on fire.

Ace looks up and into your eyes and smiles as he lets go. “Oops.” He looks just about ready to lean in and kiss you, and you’re torn between wanting to let him, and not wanting to do so in front of others just yet.

“Look at you, positively smitten.” Lyn says, eyes on Ace. “If I remember correctly, you were in here just a few months ago -.”

“S-saying absolutely nothing interestin’!” Ace exclaims, giving you a little space without leaping fully to the other side of the seat.

“Ah, true. True.” She agrees with a grin. “I’m sure I have you mistaken with someone else who was ready to swear off all manner of love and dating. Dramatically convinced that there wasn’t any one in this whole wide world that was going to be able to-.”

“Lyn, mercy, please.” Ace begs.

You can feel the heat rolling off him as you turn your head, giving Ace a pointed stare while Lyn hums softly in amusement. To Ace’s credit he looked caught somewhere between embarrassed and adorable. He put his arms in front of his face to shield himself from the inquiring look you were giving him, and so you moved just a little bit closer.

“Don’t ignite.” You admonish, poking his side playfully and causing him to yelp.

“You’re in my restaurant,” Sanji starts, trying to cover the pink on his own face. “And I feel like I’m the one intruding.”

“Ah, ha ha, sorry about that.” You lean away from Ace. “With, with that we should probably get going. We’ve kept you both as it is.” You admit, scooting out of the booth.

Lyn hands you a card after she gets up. “The numbers for here, and both our personal cells.” She explains.

“If things go bad with Ichiji, let us know.” Sanji clarifies. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to do much, but I don’t want anyone in that family thinking they can do whatever they want.”

“Appreciated.” You tuck the card away, hoping that things go smoothly. You’re certain that Sabo would break the law without a second thought if Ichiji did anything, and you know Ace would too. There were too many people willing to step up for you, and considering the complications of nobility in relation to the laws, you were more worried for others than yourself.

[crazyunsexycool]

So Lottie and Henry know about Bucky? Like his winter soldier story?

What is their reaction to it when they find out?

Good question and the answer is yes and no.

Henry is aware of Bucky being the Winter Soldier because he was also trained to be the Winter Soldier and had been programmed with the trigger words. He just isn’t aware of the all the thing Bucky was made to do in detail but he’s a smart kid so he knows Bucky was forced to do bad things.

Charlotte has no idea. She is aware that Bucky, Henry, herself and Sugar were hurt by the “bad men” but she doesn’t know anything else. When she does find out it will be in a very heartbreaking way because Bucky and Sugar were going to tell her (to an extent) about the Winter Soldier but they were waiting until she was older like in her teens. This is how she finds out and the aftermath of it…

The truth comes out

Warning: angst, mean adult, Charlotte crying, Bucky crying, (now I’m crying)…

Charlotte was excited for a new school year. She was older now, a whole 7 years old. She was smarter and excited to make new friends. The only thing that made her nervous was a vision of a mean adult, a parent of a classmate to be precise.

For the first month Lottie managed to avoid this parent but eventually she made friends with this woman’s son. Everything for Charlotte came tumbling down when this mean woman came into the classroom to help the teacher for the afternoon. She walked in and saw her son playing happily with Charlotte. The teacher stepped out for a moment and immediately the woman Lottie had visions about stomped over to separate them.

“Derek, I told you to stay away from her.” She snaps at her son.

“But why mommy? Lottie’s my friend.”

“Because she’s bad.”

“I’m not bad. I’m good, I promise.” Lottie defends herself with a small pout.

“You’re bad just like your dad.”

Lottie started crying silently. “You’re a liar. My dad isn’t bad. He’s good, he’s a superhero.”

“No he isn’t.” The woman gets in Lottie’s face. “He likes to hurt people because he’s bad. And so are you.”

Charlotte runs out of the room crying. She runs into her teacher who tries to soothe her enough to figure out what happened. Lottie can only ask for you between sobs.

She’s still crying when you pick her up and she only ask for Bucky so you drove back to the compound in hopes that maybe he could do something about whatever this was.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had been training new recruits in the gym when the doors burst open.

“Daddy.” Lottie cried as she ran to him.

He barely managed to open his arms to catch him. When Lottie was finally in his arms she started crying all over again. The recruits, who had grown fond of Lottie, were all showing concern for the rather unusual behavior for her.

“Recruits, take a ten minute break.” Bucky orders as he picks Charlotte up so that he can go somewhere private to figure out what was wrong.

****

“Why are you crying, doll? Did someone hurt you?” Bucky was doing his best to not shed his own tears. He didn’t like to see his kids upset.

“A mean lady at school said you’re a bad man. She said you like to hurt people and that I’m bad too. But you’re not bad daddy. You’re good.”

“I’m so sorry doll.” Bucky brought her into a hug so that she wouldn’t see his own tears.

You had stayed back while they talked but you reached out to Bucky. This was his worst fear. That someone would tell Charlotte the truth about him before he had the chance to explain. Now he’d have to tell his little girl the truth about his past and hope that she didn’t see him any differently than before.

The conversation was the most difficult thing you and Bucky had to sit through. Charlotte was a crying mess while listening to her dad explain as best as he could that bad men made him hurt people. At some points you had to step in and explain because Bucky got too emotional to talk. In the end Lottie looked defeated as she walked out of the office without a word. You asked Friday to get Steve so that he could comfort Charlotte while you stayed to help Bucky. It had been years since you’d seen him so upset about his past. And you knew he was going to hate himself all over again because of this. All you could do now was figure out a way to fix it and then find the woman who hurt your family and maybe kick her ass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The solution to the first issue came on its own when right before bedtime you found Lottie standing at your bedroom door.

“Daddy?” Lottie called out quietly.

“What is it doll?”

“Will you read me a bedtime story?”

You could see the tension in Bucky’s shoulders melt away. He’d been so distraught all afternoon that you weren’t sure you’d be able to help him out of that dark hole he was digging himself into.

“Of course I can.”

Lottie made her way to your bed, book in one hand and her pink teddy bear in the other then she made herself comfortable snuggled up next to her dad. Bucky took the book and gently started reading. You stayed quiet and let them have their moment.

“Daddy?” Lottie interrupted the bedtime story.

“Yeah doll?” Bucky says softly. You hated seeing him walking on eggshells around his own child.

“I don’t think you’re a bad man.”

“You don’t?” Bucky’s voice was thick with emotions.

“No,” she said while wrapping her arms as best she could around Bucky’s midsection. “Bad men don’t read bedtime stories, or play tea party or save the world. But you do.”

This time Bucky couldn’t hold back the tears and neither could you. He kissed the top of her head but his eyes were on you.

“And bubba said the bad men made him do bad stuff too, but he isn’t bad.”

“That’s true he’s the best bubba ever.”

“And you’re the best daddy ever. I love you so much.”

“I love you more, doll.”

Bucky held on to Charlotte until they both fell asleep. In the end she still adored her daddy because even if he’d done bad things he wasn’t a bad man. She was smart enough to understand that. Even though this wasn’t how Bucky planned to tell her it was now done with. He’d work hard every day for the rest of his life to prove to his little girl that she was right. That he wasn’t a bad man, because he wasn’t.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Heeeeey, y'all!! I know it's been a hot minute since I've updated his soy & I apologize for that. I've been so busy with my college courses now that I'm back in school & preparing for work, but I promise that I'm gonna finish this story, even if it takes me until the fall. Thank you for your patience, love & continuous support on my shit lol. I hope y'all enjoy & have a great day! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

TEN: SOMETHIN’ WICKED THIS WAY COMES.

Once in Sage County, a day’s walk away from the Devil’s Trail, you go shopping. 

“So remind me,” you say as you look through a rack of skirts in the little store. “What’s the plan again?”

Gojo is happy to ​​run it by you again: “You’re an aristocratic woman here on business with her two personal escorts, so you’ll have to act like a bitch, but that won’t be too hard for you.” 

You strike him in the side twice, hard. “Ow, ow, I’m kiddin’!” he exclaims.

Geto glares at you both under his hat from a rack of dresses, eyeballing two beautifully sewn pieces. “Don’t attract any unwanted attention, you two,” he criticizes. “Hmm…this isn’t quite your color. Maybe somethin’ red…” 

“And you think that this is gonna work?” you ask. “‘Cause you realize this entire plan could go to shit.”

Gojo goes to take out a cigarette, only stopping when the shopowner eyeballs him. “Have some faith in us, sugar,” he scoffs at you. “You’re lookin’ at two seasoned actors here. None of our plans go to shit!” 

After running like hell away from Benji’s men who rudely ambushed you, you three finally made it to Sage County.

It is truly the crowned jewel of this Northside of the county––buildings towering over you, steam rising from chimneys connected to homes, businesses, and shops; automobiles traveling down the street so fast that you, Gojo, and Geto had to walk your horses on the sidewalk; train stations and food carts and people trying to sell you shit, not recognizing you behind your bandana and hat. But as soon as they saw the Gunslingers, they backed off. 

“We’ll have to lay low for a minute if Benji is really here,” Geto said as you walked, his hat tipped low to not give off any red flags or tips to anyone who could recognize them. “So stayin’ at a hotel for a day or two might be the move. It won’t knock us off course either.” 

You walked between the duo, pulling Reneigh along behind you. “I don’t get it,” you scoffed. “How did he even find us?” For Benji’s men to know exactly where you were is no coincidence. 

“Benji’s got his ways, little miss,” Geto says, puffing on a cigarette Gojo passes him. “He’s got people all over the place; a whole operation of members. I wouldn’t be shocked if his bandits in Bull’s Creek said somethin’ about us lookin’ for him.” Now it all makes sense! Someone snitched! 

“So now he’s tryin’ to take us out,” you sighed. “Great. Maybe they’ve got a Willow Springs in the afterlife.”

Gojo lifts up his blindfold and his blue eyes lock on yours, irritation swimming in them. “Don’t say that,” he said, so firmly that it shuts you up completely. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to us. We’re gonna get you to Willow Springs and bag Benji ‘cause that’s what we agreed on.” 

The blue-eyed outlaw stands with you now, pulling out a slim, violet dress decorated in beads. “Oooh, this is pretty,” he coos. “Rich-lookin’, dontcha think?”

He shows Geto who taps a thoughtful finger against his chin. “It’s her color,” he says, delighted by the little article of clothing. “Now all we need is some accessories.” You snort as you watch the two grown men look for necklaces and earrings. “Y’all are enjoyin’ this more than me. 

Gojo laughs, passing you the dress with some satin shoes. “It’s always fun to play some dress-up now and again. Now put this on and show us how ya look.” He shoos you off to a try-on room while he and Geto look for accessories to hide their features. 

You try on the dress and the slippers, noticing how soft they are and how the dress hugs you tight. You feel good in it. Normal, even, like a regular woman who doesn’t bust guns and jump from county to county. You look at yourself out of your hat, boots, and bandana, feeling different, but a good different. You feel beautiful. When you walk out to show Gojo and Geto, they are busy counting their coin to pay for the items. 

“How do I look?” you softly ask, making them stop. You immediately have their attention, their eyes grazing over your body and the extra layer of skin that the dress provides.

“Like you could win an award,” Gojo chuckles. You instantly feel like maybe this plan could work. 

After the boys change into their own disguises–suits and fake mustaches–, you head over to the five-star hotel you had your eyes on before and park the horses outside before heading into the clean, sophisticated-looking lobby. A man in a doorman uniform looks up from his book, immediately frowning at the sight of the Gunslingers. 

“Are you hear to purchase tickets for the opera tonight?” he asks, nervously staring up at the very tall, very muscular men holding your bags behind you. You shake your head, though it does explain why so many rich-looking folks are here. “Can I help you then?” 

“I hope you can,” you snootily respond, trying not to laugh as you do. “I’m attending the opera tomorrow and ordered a room here beforehand, but it was taken without my knowledge! I’d like to pay for another, please.” 

The man, still nervous, nods and flips through the book where a bunch of room numbers sit. “May I have your name so I can put you on the waitlist?” he asks. 

That’s when you muster up as much of your acting skills as you can. “Waitlist?” you scoff, putting a hand to your heart. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” The man stays silent, so you continue. “Alana Tabuki, first of my name, owner of several acres. Now, I don’t want to believe that you’d disrespect me, sir, because you’d also be disrespecting my men.” 

You turn to the Gunslingers who still look menacing despite their disguises. You offer them your arms dripping in bangle bracelets. “They don’t take too kindly to that, do you, boys?” you titter. 

The duo takes each of your hands and begins to pepper them in kisses, starting from your knuckles to up your arm to your shoulder. Each kiss leaves a trail of fire up your skin, similar to have Gojo’s kiss made you feel. Once they get to your neck, you start to feel liquid heat pour into your stomach, especially when the two begin to softly moan in your ear. Is this still a part of the plan? 

“O-Okay, that’s enough,” you stutter, feeling hot in your dress. “We don’t want to make the poor man feel uncomfortable.” 

The desk clerk, sweating bullets and looking like he wants to die, rapidly grabs a room key from behind him and drops it into your hand. “O-oh, look at that!” he squeaks. “We have a room that just opened! Please follow our luggagemen to take your bags, ma’am!” He nods at the two luggagemen near the elevator. 

You nod your thanks and slip Geto the key. “Nicely done,” he whispers, pocketing the key before walking off with Gojo who gives you a wink. You proudly smile and follow them close behind as they help the luggagemen with their bags, probably weary about giving them their shit. 

But before you can walk into the elevator, someone comes around the corner and bumps into your side, nearly knocking you down. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp, stumbling to the left. What you really want to say is, “Hey, watch it!”, but you know that would gain too much bad attention. 

However, when you look at the stranger, all words and thoughts cease to exist. All you feel is fear and dread wrapped up in one as you stare at the man before you. Benji the Bandit is much bigger in person–about six-something feet towering over you and even bigger because of his hulking frame. You bet he’s even taller than Geto and Gojo combined. 

He is much older with long, black hair streaked in gray, a salt-and-pepper beard, an eyepatch that covers his scarred right eye, and a smile glittering in gold that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the wrinkles by his eyes, obvious aging, and the suit he wears, he still scares you like he’s the Boogeyman. 

“No,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice that sends shivers down your spine. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m so desperate to get these opera tickets that I forgot my footing.”

He laughs, the sound like a rumbling earthquake, and gives you a nod before heading off to do his business, walking with a slight gate on his long cane, his big, ringed hand tattooed with a rose on it. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Gojo is pulling you inside the elevator and the doors shut, and with it, your target. 

**********

Your five-star hotel room is much better than sleeping in a tent or in the open by a fire. 

The clerk hooked you and the Gunslingers up with a hotel suite with two separate bedrooms with their own washrooms, a kitchenette with appliances for brewing tea and coffee, and a lounging space with two fluffy armchairs and a couch near a window overlooking the streets below. The floor is shag carpet, the walls are painted a buttercream yellow, and sweet-smelling, red flowers sit on the table in front of you where you sit on the couch. 

Included with the flowers are two trays of food, a bucket of ice, and a complimentary bottle of champagne that Gojo has already popped open. The trays are littered with finger foods: crackers, all kinds of cheese, fruits, meats, and mustard. Gojo sits next to you, chomping on cheese and sipping bubbly, his bare feet kicked up and having ditched his disguise for a wife beater. 

You hear the water in his and Geto’s chosen bedroom shut off and out walks Geto in a robe, his muscled calves and chest dripping in water on full display. He pulls his wet locks into a bun, looking like a wet, dark-haired Adonis. “Ah,” he sighs. “Much better, though I am jealous of the two of you for havin’ such a beautiful view durin’ your soak this mornin’.” 

He smiles at you but you can’t find it within yourself to return it. You would be indulging in the luxury of the room with them if it wasn’t for Benji the Bandit taking up your thoughts. “You should,” Gojo chuckles. “It was a very beautiful view…I mean, before we were rudely interrupted by bullets, don’t you agree, Y/N?” 

You don’t really hear him, staring blankly down at your satin slippers sitting by the door. You haven’t yet changed out of your dress, even though your bag is in your bedroom now. “Y/N?” Gojo repeats.

You turn to him, finding him and Geto staring at you. “S-Sorry,” you say, flushing with embarrassment. “I’m just a little tired is all.” 

But Gojo isn’t dumb. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’ve got somethin’ on that mind of yours.” He pours you a glass of champagne and passes it to you. You barely take a sip. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried. “Can’t we talk about it? It’s important that you’re feelin’ as good as we do.” 

You want to tell them you saw Benji, but at the same time, you don’t want to worry them. They seem so relaxed. “How come y’all wear gloves all the time?” you randomly ask.

They blink at you, confused. You nod down at Geto’s bare hands which are bigger and thicker than Gojo’s. “I noticed even when we’re not on our horses, you wear gloves. Y’all germophobes or somethin’?” 

You make the joke to avoid getting forced to cough up the truth, but you even feel weird doing that. Gojo snatches a strawberry from the tray. “Nah,” he chuckles, chewing on the fruit. “But Sugu is. I’m shocked he hasn’t wiped this place down yet.” 

His partner glares down at him. “Not yet,” he growls, snatching the champagne glass from a giggling Gojo. “The gloves are for protection. Not only to avoid leavin’ fingerprints on our targets but to also hide our tattoos.” 

He shows you his rose tattoo inked on his knuckles, the same as Gojo’s. “Benji made us get these when we started,” he explains. “He wanted us to prove our loyalty to him by gettin’ his symbol on our skin forever.” He snorts crudely at the ink, shaking his head. 

Seeing the distaste in his and Gojo’s faces at the sight of the ink on their skin, forever bonded to them whether they like it or not, you break. “I saw Benji earlier,” you finally confess.

A tense, shocked silence falls onto the room and you instantly regret saying anything. “What?” Geto asks and his tone shocks you––it’s sharp and intimidating like an angry father would use. “When?” he demands. 

You swallow hard, knowing you can’t button your lip now. “Earlier while y’all were takin’ the luggage to the elevator. He bumped me comin’ around the corner.” 

The duo continues to stare you down, making you feel uncomfortable. “Did he say anythin’ to you?” Gojo asks.

You passively shrug, hugging yourself as a way to self-pacify. “Just that he was sorry and he’s goin’ to the opera tonight…which I also think we should attend.” 

The white-haired outlaw scowls at you. “And how in the fuck are we supposed to do that?” he scoffs. “We don’t even have tickets!” 

You scoff, glaring at him. “This is comin’ from the same guy who scammed a motel clerk out of some rooms,” you sharply retort, eyeing the both of them suspiciously. “What’s up with y’all anyway? All of a sudden, y’all sound like y’all don’t wanna catch this big-bodied bitch.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Geto firmly protests. “We wanna catch Benji as much as you do, but this is also the same guy who tried to kill us just this mornin’. If he knows we’re here, we could be in big trouble and blow this whole operation to hell. That’s why I said we need to lay low for a bit.” 

But that isn’t good enough for you. “So we just…sit here and let him get away?” You can’t help but be increasingly pissed at this new “plan”. You would think that the Gunslingers would be jumping at the chance to get Benji, but instead, they’re hesitant. Resistant. Not at all the Gunslingers you met and thought they were. 

“It can’t be just a coincidence that he’s here at the same time as us, Geto,” you argue. “It’s a miracle! Obviously, somethin’ in the universe is tellin’ us to get this guy and y’all are more concerned about blowin’ your cover?” 

Geto sighs, looking physically tired of your shit. “This isn’t about our cover. It’s about keepin’ us safe and alive until it’s the right time to pounce.” 

“This is the right time!” you argue, standing up from the couch. “What other time do we have to wait?”

The duo just stares at you, neither one backing down from their decision. You simmer, angered at them. “Maybe I was wrong about y’all,” you hiss. “Fine, since y’all wanna be pussies about it, then I’ll go myself.” 

You begin to stalk towards the door, but Gojo gets up and blocks you from going any further. “No, you’re not,” he sternly says. He looks strange without that usual, gigawat smile on his face. Scary, even. His blue eyes look like ice to you, making you feel like you’ve been dipped in a pool in the Arctic. 

But the stubborn, bratty bitch in you just scowls up at him. “And who the fuck is gonna stop me?” you fridigly ask. Before he can answer, you push past him and continue to walk towards the door. 

You barely make it to the knob when you suddenly feel something tighten around your midsection. You look down, finding a leather whip wrapped tight around you. “Hey, let me go!” you snap, pulling at the whip. “Dammit, Gojo, I said let me go!” 

Gojo just stands there, holding onto the whip with one hand, watching as you as struggle. “Nah, I think I’m gonna let leave ya there to think about your bratty behavior.” He yanks on the whip, causing you to forcefully be jerked toward him. You try to dig your heels into the floor, but it’s no use. He’s just too strong. 

“Satoru,” Geto firmly says. He stands from the couch, fists clenched. “Let her go.”

Gojo scowls at him but releases you anyway. You stagger away from him, finally feeling like you can breathe. Geto strides over to you and stands in the middle of you and Gojo, not wanting the suite to turn into a battlefield…but it already has. 

“Let’s just calm down, okay?” he suggests, collected and composed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be for right now. We’ll find out where Benji is headed next and go from there, but for now, let’s just relax and get some rest.” 

He tries to take your hand, but you flinch away from him and storm off to your bedroom to get the rest he speaks of. But you can’t get rest, especially when night falls. You toss and turn, haunted by vengeance, leaving you hotblooded and your pistol hand itching. 

When you rise from your bed in your PJs, Geto and Gojo have already gone to bed, their door cracked and the sound of Gojo snoring is heard throughout the suite.

You slip into your purple dress and heels from earlier, make your hair look presentable, and slip on your leather jacket. Once you’re dressed, you add your accessories: a gold necklace, bracelets, a knife in a garter belt strapped to your thigh, and a pistol that you slip into your purse. 

You don’t bother leaving a note. You know that the boys will know where you’ve gone. So you slip out the suite, locking it, and down the quiet hallway to the elevators. You don’t turn back. You’re afrai that if you do, you’ll rethink this and decide to stay. So when the elevators ding, you walk in and head to the lobby. 

Once the doors open, you give the doormen a nod as you head outside in the summer night. Reneigh is waiting for you along with Geto and Gojo’s Broncos, all of them chuffling when you see you. You pet Reneigh’s nose and untie her before hiking your dress up and mounting her, feeling weird without your riding boots and pants. 

 “C’mon, girl,” you whisper before softly clucking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Reneigh takes off clicking down the path, leaving the hotel behind.

[five-rivers]

Waking the Woods

AO3

Sequel to Rumors of the Woods of the Kingdom of Amity.

For @summerssixecho and @modordracena

Danny was sorting through the pantry, hoping to get all the misplaced poisons put back in the red cabinet before his parents came home the day after next.  More inedible substances would inevitably be stored in the pantry once they came back, but Danny would do just about anything to avoid eating another bezoar for just a little bit longer.  

Also, getting poisoned sucked, but that went without saying.  

His sister, Jazz, was gone, too, but that wasn’t unusual.  She’d gotten an invitation to study at the College of Elmerton, and of course she had to go, even if it was in another country.  

Which meant that he was the only one home when he heard the knock.  It also meant that he was so startled by it that he propelled his head into the underside of one of the pantry shelves at speed.

No one knocked on their door.  Ever.  Even the paying customers were more of the ‘let ourselves in’ type.  

Danny staggered out of the pantry, head spinning slightly.  Ow.  

The knock came again, this time taking on a decidedly frantic character.  Danny shook himself, and patted his head down.  No blood.  Great!  He walked to the door, half convinced that he’d find someone who was both out of town and very lost, but determined to be polite.  Show people it was possible for a Fenton to have manners!  Not their fault he smacked his head into the shelf.�� 

He slid open the door and immediately got punched in the face.  

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry– Where did the door go?”

“It slides,” explained Danny, clutching his face.  “Sideways.  Ow.”

“I’m really sorry, I was just knocking.  I didn’t realize–”

“I know, I know.”  Probably, the whole ‘nobody knocks’ thing was the only thing keeping this from happening much more often.  He peeled his hands away from his face and took in his visitor as well as he could, given his temporarily blurry vision.  

Dark skin, yellow cloak, vividly red hat that had to be violating at least a dozen sumptuary laws…  There was only one person Danny had ever met that dressed like that.

“Tucker?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Tucker, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Surprise?”

“In more ways than one.”  Danny touched his face tenderly.  “Ow.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Danny, deciding not to mention that he’d done much worse to himself not five minutes ago.  “Come on in.  What are you doing here, anyway?  I haven’t seen you since, uh…”  When had it been, anyway?

“Since I got apprenticed, I know.”

“Yeah!”  Tucker hadn’t been happy about it, but as his parents had said, felting was good, steady work.  People always needed cloth.  “Don’t tell me you’ve already finished your apprenticeship.”

“Uh, no.  It is sort of about that, though.”

Danny paused, halfway to the living room.  “You’re not running away, are you?”  Tucker had never seen the type, but it had been years.  

“No,” said Tucker.  “But, uh.  It’s sort of complicated.  It’ll take a little bit to explain.”

“Alright,” said Danny, continuing into the room until he could perch on the edge of his mother’s rocker.  “Go ahead.”

“Right.  So.  Every ten years or so, the weavers’ and felters’ guilds get together to negotiate with the shepherds about prices.  Tanner’s guild, too, sometimes, but not this year.  This year, my master got chosen to go.  Which meant I was at loose ends."

"So you came to visit me?" asked Danny, touched. 

"Um.  No.  Maybe I would've, but at the same time, the pages at the castle all came down with carbuncle pox–"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that."

"So, the pagemaster asked the guilds to send apprentices to fill in for them."

"And you were sent because you were at loose ends."

"Right."

They stared silently at each other.  Just when Danny was about to prompt Tucker to continue, because that had explained nothing, the other boy exploded.  

"I was sent to give a message to the princess and she had a book out about Rangers, like the one your mom always had, and I asked her why she was looking up Rangers and she said it was for a personal project and she asked me why I could read - because apparently royalty think guild apprentices can’t read, go figure, she sounded impressed, though - and I told her that I’d always wanted to join the monastery, but money, and then, you know, she was surprised I could read, I wanted to say something impressive, not be written off, and I said I knew a Ranger family, and then she said that if I could get a Ranger to help with her project, she’d pay off my apprenticeship and recommend me to the head monk, and I said I could definitely, one hundred percent do that and you’d be happy to help.  So, uh.  Yeah.  Yeah, then I came here.  What’ve you been up to?”

Danny's jaw had dropped at some point during Tucker’s ‘explanation,’ but he gathered himself.  "The attic, I guess.  Tucker…  I'm not a Ranger."

"But your parents were."

"Not… not really."  Jazz, at least, had thought they were doing the whole Ranger thing to embarrass her.  The Fentons were alchemists by trade, if not temperament.  Rangers didn't really exist any more.

"Grandparents?"

Danny shrugged.

"Come on, Danny, you're literally my only hope."

"Why do you even want to join a monastery anyway?"

"Because that's where all the books are."

Danny rubbed his head, winced, and thought about it some more.  "This project isn't some creepy rich person thing, is it?"

"What?  No.  The princess is our age!"

"So?  I'm self‐aware enough to realize that I can be creepy about…" he trailed off, blushing furiously.  "Things."

"She's a girl!"

Danny blinked.  “So?”

Tucker stared at him.  He stared at Tucker.  

“She legitimately needs a Ranger.”

“What for?  It isn’t like there’s any magic in the woods anymore.  They’ve been mapped.”

“Apparently not,” said Tucker.  “Look, I know you haven’t seen me in a long time, and we’re not close friends anymore, but you have to at least be curious.  And you’d get to meet the princess.”

Danny sighed.  “Alright, alright.  I am curious.”  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked all those questions.  “Where am I supposed to go and when am I supposed to be there?”

“The princess wants us to meet her at the castle at noon.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  

“Yes?”

“You want me to go to the castle.  At noon.  Today.  Looking like I just got beaten up.  And convince the princess, who has apparently done a lot of research, that I’m, what, an apprentice Ranger?  Is that even a thing?”

“An experienced Ranger.  I, uh, might have played you up a bit.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  “You were wrong.”

Tucker hunched his shoulders.  “About?”

“Us not being close friends anymore.  You see, if we weren’t, I would be kicking you out right about now.”

“Noted.”

.

Danny did not run around like his hair was on fire for the next hour, although at one point he came perilously close to actually setting his hair on fire.  

An hour was not long enough to prepare for this.  For that matter, days wouldn’t be long enough to prepare for this.  He was an apprentice alchemist, barely, not a monster-hunter, not a warrior of any stripe, not a mage, not even a historian.  

But on the off chance that there was magic… or a creature or some sort…

He packed his travel kit with a few randomly chosen vials of caustics and poisons, making sure they were carefully separated from the vials and flasks carrying more benign brews.  Glues, solvents, and cleaners went in another compartment, salves and topicals in yet another, and things you were actually supposed to eat or drink in a fourth.  

He felt woefully underprepared.  

Tucker was really lucky he didn’t have any other friends, darn it.  

His eyes strayed back to the lockbox in the back of the storeroom.  He shouldn’t…  But odds were, the princess was delusional or just getting scammed.  He could put everything back before his parents got home.  And if the princess had found something magical, wouldn’t it be better to have something that could affect it?  Even if it was old and super questionable?

With a skill born from his parents always losing their keys, Danny picked the lock on the lockbox.  Within were two vials.  One was pale green, with a dark, glittery red mixture inside.  The other was coated with crackling, peeling red and contained a liquid that glowed green through the cracks.  The reason for these color choices was, Danny assumed, because one of his ancestors was a sadist of some variety.  

He checked the labels to make sure they were what he remembered.  Tincture of Sanguiflora magicidium in the green vial and mana pondalorum physick in the red vial.  He triple checked his memory of their effects against the booklet in the lockbox.  Only then did he put them in their own, separate, compartments.  

He was ready to go, and absolutely sure he was going to regret this in at least some way.  

Welp!  At least it’d be interesting.  

.

Danny had never actually been to the castle before.  His parents were… Well, even if they were the absolute best alchemists in the kingdom (a disputed title) they weren’t exactly welcome around anyone who might not want their clothes ruined.  Or their houses.  Or their health.  Even beyond the Ranger thing, they were pretty eccentric.  

The castle was impressive, he supposed.  But it was just a large building.  He wouldn’t want to be a guy attacking it, he was sure.  But looking at it from the outside got old, fast.

“So,” he said to Tucker, “noon, huh?”

“You know that’s just an estimate.  Not everyone has clocks.”

“I am absolutely convinced that the royal family has at least one clock.”

“Yeah, but do they know that you have a clock?  That’s the question.  And is your clock even right?”

Danny shrugged.  

One of the guards whistled at them, and for the first time, Danny saw his face.  

“Huh,” he said, “is that Dash?”

“Might be,” said Tucker.  

“You!  Boy!” snapped Dash, who was only a little older than they were.  “Are you Tucker Foley?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And the-” Dash sneered, “-Ranger?”

“It’s not my day job.”  Or any kind of job.  Actually, was he getting paid for this?  As much as he’d like to live off air and pleasant thoughts, he did have other needs.  At this point, though, it seemed too late to ask.  

“You’re expected.  Follow me.”

Wow.  Danny didn’t know that Dash knew any words as long as ‘expected.’  Shocking.  Maybe being around all these high-class people was starting to rub off on him.  

Not far inside the gates was a…  Alright, Danny didn’t know what was going on, but it had the energy of people preparing to go somewhere, so.  Yeah.

“Your majesty, I’ve brought the felter boy and his… friend.”

“I’m sure they have names,” said a girl who was wearing a surprisingly practical riding dress, “and I know you know at least Tucker’s.”  She turned slightly towards Danny.  “And you are?”

“This is, uh, Danny, Princess Samantha,” said Tucker, bobbing bow and elbowing Danny in the side until he got a clue and did the same.  

“I’ve told you, you can call me Sam.”

“R-right.  Sam.”

Everyone in the vicinity except the princess shot them a glare so venomous Danny was tempted to get out a bezoar (ick).  The princess didn’t notice.  She was too busy examining Danny.  He straightened under her sweeping gaze.

“You don’t look like a Ranger.”

“My parents have more experience.”  Or so they claimed, anyway.  “There’s not a lot of call for Rangers these days.”

“Well, you’re the first one to come to me with even a lick of authenticity, so I suppose you’ll do,” she said, finally.   “The Fenton line, correct?  Branch of House Nightingale?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “I suppose?”  He’d heard some things like that, but if he had any Nightingale ancestors, they were buried beneath far more common people.  

“I think you might actually be the last survivors of that house.  Do either of you ride?”

Danny and Tucker shook their heads.  

“More’s the pity, although we won’t be moving at much more than a walk with all the people who insist on coming with us despite their lack of interest in our nation’s heritage.”  She sniffed.  “You will be coming of course, Tucker?”

“‘Course he will,” said Danny, looping an arm around his shoulder.  “We used to be a team when we were kids.”

“Oh?  Goodness, that almost makes me reluctant to send you off to a monastery.  There are so few people with any Ranger training left.”

She turned away, back to her preparations, and Tucker threw Danny’s arm off and glared at him.  Danny grinned lazily back.  Served him right.  Danny could spread the misery around a little bit.  

.

It was true that the princess’s retinue did not move at a rate faster than a walk.  This was, however, at least partially because the princess kept stopping to give alms on her way out of the city.  It seemed the city’s population of beggars had learned her preferred routes.  

“Hey,” said Danny, “this was a one day sort of thing, right?  It’s okay that I didn’t pack stuff for overnight?”

“No, it should be fine, I think,” said Tucker.  “But there’s like a hundred people here.  Someone will have spare stuff.  Besides, if it goes much longer than that, we can just leave.”

Danny nodded.  “That’s true.”

.

When they finally reached the forest, they walked for another hour and a half, this time stopping so that the princess and her ladies could coo at the half-feral forest cats that sometimes watched their progress.

Alright, Danny cooed at them, too, and since he and Tucker were on foot, they had a much better chance of petting them, something he felt just a little smug about.

The first hour of that was on a well maintained road, the last was on a path that looked to be newly cut through tangled underbrush and fallen trees.  Much to the displeasure of the princess’s guards, she decided to dismount and walk next to Danny and Tucker for this part of the journey.  She called it ‘bracing.’

“We only found this because of the late storm during the drought last year,” she said.  “Father sent the fire watch to make sure there hadn’t been any bad lightning strikes close to the city, and one of them found it.  I spent months convincing Father to let me investigate.  I’m hoping that soon it will be something I can share with everyone.”

Danny cleared his throat.  “With this all being so last minute, Tucker didn’t actually get a chance to tell me what ‘it’ was.  Um, Princess Samantha.”  He had no idea how often you were supposed to address royalty by title.  It didn’t come up all that often in his life.  

Samantha’s smile faltered, slightly.  “It’s Sam.  And we’re not sure, actually.  That’s one of the reasons we wanted a Ranger.  I thought that you might recognize it from your training.”

“I don’t know how likely that is,” cautioned Danny.  

Samantha shrugged.  “It is only one of the reasons.  But you don’t have to be pessimistic.  I’m well aware that this endeavor might come to nothing.  It is one thing to hope to reclaim a country’s magical heritage.  It is another thing entirely to actually do it.”

“So… you don’t believe magic is getting used up?”

“I’m not sure.  I think it might have been…  But I have hope that magic is something that can be restored, renewed, and used more wisely.  Other places seem to have managed that, at least a little.  It would be a shame to give up on it entirely, wouldn’t it?  It was a wondrous thing.”

“Sure,” said Danny, “but there were also the monsters.  That’s what the Rangers were for, a lot of the time.”

“Even so.”  She fell silent for a while.  “Have you ever heard of the trap-rabbit?”

“No.  Tuck?”

Tucker shook his head.  

“They used to be quite common here, is my understanding.  The walls of my nursery are painted with them.  They don’t exist anymore.  It’s a sad thing, I think, for that to happen.  I would not wish it to happen even to monsters.”

Tucker made a face.  The princess saw it.  

“I have read the stories,” she said.  “In them, we strike first as often as they.”

“But those are stories,” protested Tucker.  

The princess shrugged.  “As is any history you did not witness personally.  But even we can’t return things to what they were, don’t you think learning what was is still a worthy goal?”

“It sounds like one, anyway,” said Danny.  “I’ve never really thought about it.”

They emerged into a clearing around a large pond.  On the other side of the pond was a huge tree with great, drooping branches.  The branches swayed in the wind, momentarily revealing something made of stone.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” asked the princess, stepping onto a path that led around the side of the pond.  It was made of uneven pavers and looked ancient.  

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I didn’t know trees like that got that tall.”

“Neither did I,” muttered Tucker.  “What’s under there, though.”

“You’ll have to see,” said Samantha- Sam, skipping down the path.  

Danny started after her, and immediately tripped.  He just barely caught himself before face planting and possibly having a very expensive and dangerous accident with his travel kit.

He maybe wasn’t as recovered from his head injuries as he’d thought.  And, yes, he was counting Tucker’s accidental punch.  

It was fine.  

The stone beneath the tree was part of a structure, obviously made by intelligent hands and at least as old as the paved path.  There didn’t seem to be any way into the small building, just some words carved into the side.

“Do you recognize it?”

Danny shook his head.  “But there’s always been lots of different kinds of ruins.”  He walked around the structure, going slowly.  “Reminds me a little of shrines in old temples.  Those are open-sided, though.”

“I know,” said Sam.  “The tree doesn’t mean anything to you, either?”

“Should it?”

Sam shrugged.  Away from the shadow of the tree, her retinue was setting up camp.  They seemed more than happy to let the three of them investigate the maybe-shrine on their own.  Well.  Mostly.  A couple very formidable looking ladies were watching them like hawks, and a bald man had taken out a stool and a thick, dusty book to read in the shade.  

“I don’t think so…  It’s kind of similar to that one story, though, isn’t it?  The one about the tree of life and a sacred pool.”

“It is.  The water seems to be just water, though, and the fruit is just fruit.”  

“Might be where the story came from, though.”

“Maybe,” agreed Sam.  “What do you think of the writing?”

Gods, that was not his area of expertise.  Still, he stepped closer.  “Hm,” he said.  “It’s very writing-like.”

Sam looked at him, concern on her face.  “You can read, yes?”

“What?  Yeah.  Just give me a second.  This isn’t regular writing.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ve gotten someone else to translate this already, right?”

“My tutor, William Lancer."  She gestured at the bald man, who briefly glanced up from his book.  "It’s good to have a second opinion.”

Danny nodded and called up his admittedly meager knowledge of this sort of thing.  He knew some, because a lot of alchemical texts were written in the old language, but he wasn’t exactly spending his days practicing it.  

“Um,” he said, intelligently.  He was starting to see what Tucker meant about wanting to impress her.  “The first binding, valued more than coin, valued more than land, but spent on it nonetheless, by those who do not own it.  When it is gone, dust is left.  Heart of the land, spend yours before your people.  We shall… wake?”  Danny paused.  “Is that ‘wake?’”

“‘Open,’” said Sam.  “We think answering the riddle might open up the… shrine, for lack of a better word.”

“Mm,” said Danny, who had usually seen it in the context of sleeping medicines.  “Is it the same on all sides?” 

“As far as we can tell.”

“Dust is, um.  Huh.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he jostled his head.  “I think this dust might be the same dust as grave dust.  Does that help?”

“This isn’t one of those animal sacrifice things, is it?” asked Tucker.  “Or, uh, human sacrifice?”

“We thought of that,” said Sam.  

Tucker moved away from her.  

“But, ah.  Blood magic tends to be… unpleasant.  We thought we’d avoid that.”

“Might still be blood magic,” said Danny.  “I mean, blood fits, doesn’t it?  Blood relations are the first tie you have, it’s more valuable than money or land, but people still fight wars for those things, they just try to spill other people’s blood.  When it’s gone, you’re left with grave dust.”

“I would prefer not to get sacrificed,” said Tucker.  “If it’s all the same to you, your highness.”

“Tucker, if I was that desperate to get in, I’d just hire people to pull it down, or get a battering ram.  I’m not going to sacrifice anyone.  But… heart of the land?  We thought perhaps wood doves, because of the crest…”

Danny shrugged.  “At that point, it might as well be talking about your blood.”

“Mine?” asked Sam, scandalized but intrigued.

“Sure.  You’re popular, right?  Or at least, you’re royalty.  That’s sort of like being the heart of a country.”

“Couldn't it just be talking about the word, too?" asked Tucker, looking faintly ill.  "Couldn't it be that you just have to say the word blood?"

"I don't know, we've said blood a lot just now."

"But not in the old language," pointed out Sam.  

"Sure," said Danny.  "Sang."

Nothing happened.  He shrugged.  

"Maybe you need to say it," Tucker said to Sam.  

"Sang." 

Still nothing.

"Bleeding it is, then."  Sam pulled an unreasonably large knife from the vicinity of her corset. 

Tucker jumped away, and even Danny took two hurried steps back, ready to throw himself behind the corner of the building.  The ‘supervising’ adults were unalarmed.  

But the princess just pressed the blade to her thumb and held it out to the structure.  

Nothing happened.  

“Maybe you need to bleed on it?” suggested Danny.  

“You don’t want to get an infection, your highness,” said William Lancer, not looking up from his book.

“I know,” said Sam.  She pressed her thumb against the wall, just under the carved riddle.  

For a long moment… nothing happened.  

But then the walls shuddered and began to drop into the ground, leaving only the pillars at the corners to support the roof.  

“Yes!”  Sam pumped her fist and ran in as soon as the walls got low enough.  

This, finally, stirred the watchers to action. 

Danny and Tucker exchanged a glance.  It'd be bad if the princess were cursed, wouldn't it?

Danny hopped over the wall next.  The interior was… Not much of one.  He didn't know what he expected of a ten foot by ten foot building with no walls.  

"Look," said Sam, pointing up.  

"Oh, wow," said Danny, all awareness of what the princess’s minders were doing falling away from him.  The pillars might not be much to look at, but the ceiling…  Danny had just enough experience at art to understand what had gone into carving and painting it.  It was the night sky, as viewed from below trees.  Each leaf and needle was picked out in exquisite detail, perspective perfect.  And the stars… as an alchemist, even an apprentice one, Danny had to know when the stars were right.  These stars were accurate.  They were even accurate to this time of year.  Even the moon was right, its face a careful reproduction of what was really there.

“The floor, too!” said Sam, bringing Danny’s attention to the stone tiles and the small flowers and leaves painted on them as well as… were those map lines?  Danny wasn’t sure.  “This is marvelous.  Do you suppose the pillars are meant to resemble tree trunks?  I didn’t see it before, but now-!  Even if this was it, it’s worth it!”

“It is pretty,” said Tucker, finally following them in.  “Wonder what it was for.”

“It hardly even matters.  That is, it matters, of course, but look at it!”

They looked.  

And while they were looking, the walls shot back up, leaving them in pitch blackness.  

“Ah,” said Danny.  “Somehow, I feel like we should have expected this.”

“Bleed on the walls again!” suggested Tucker in a not at all panicked voice.

There was some shuffling as everyone ran into one another.  

“It’s not working,” said Sam.  

“Well,” said Danny, “at least there’s still the battering ram option?”

“That only works if there’s nothing inside the thing you care about breaking.  Do you– No, I suppose you wouldn’t.  What was the point of this, anyway?  To trap princes and princesses?”

Danny shrugged, even though no one could see him.  

“I don’t suppose any of you have flint or matches?” asked Sam.  “Candles?”

“Some,” admitted Danny.  “But you don’t really want to light a fire in a closed space like this.  Oh!  Wait!  I do have something.”  He opened the top of his travel kit.  The glowing mana pondalorum physick was immediately visible.  The red coating of the vial blocked most of the green light, but in the otherwise absolute darkness, it seemed to burn.  

“What is that?”

“Mana,” said Danny.  “Or water with mana in it.  Some of the old books aren’t super clear.  My parents saved it from way back.”

“Did they save anything else?” asked Sam, her eyes wide.  She reached for it.  

Danny pulled it back, towards his chest.  He had not anticipated curious royalty as a threat to his ‘not getting in trouble with my parents’ plan, but in retrospect he could see that was as obvious a risk as getting stuck in a weird possibly magical ruin.  

“Yeah,” he said, “there’s also the magicidium mix.  It’s, um, emergency magic antidote.  Magic killer.  So, if one of us gets cursed, you want to grab the green vial with the red stuff in it.”

“And, what, drink it?” asked Tucker.  

“Or dump it on them.  Drinking it is better, but, you know, curses…”

“Right,” said Tucker, nodding, “I absolutely know curses.”

Danny had doubts.  But he also had better things to do, like examining the inside of the walls.  He raised the vial, glancing up as the green light was reflected off the painted stars.  For a moment, he thought he might have caught a glimpse of something else, then the moment was gone.  

“Hey, why don’t we just dump the magic killing stuff on the walls or something?” asked Tucker.  

“Because it’s probably magic that makes them move,” said Sam.  “Not magic that keeps them in place.”

The walls had writing on them.  He turned to the nearest one, and brought the vial closer.  “That’s different from the outside, I think?”

“What does it say?” asked Sam.  

“Give me a minute,” said Danny.  “It’s really hard to see.”  He squinted at the writing.  “This is a lot longer,” he said with some dismay.

“You can read it, though, can’t you?”

“Just… don’t rush me.”  Danny chewed his lip, then read slowly.  “Beat true, oh heart, with wisdom and wit, for without these passion lies silent.  Um…  Those who would be woken, must be named.  Those who would be named, must be woken…  No.  Those who are named will be woken.  Speak, therefore, the names of…”

“What names?  Ours?  Mine?”

“Give me a second.  The names of… Okay, I’m not sure if this is just a poetic way to say sleep or not.  The names of those beneath the stars, for you must know them whether it is day or night.  Say them, wake them, walk into the light.”

“You think beneath the stars means sleep?  Those are completely different!”

“And beating around the bush is completely different from avoiding a topic,” said Sam.  “But they mean the same thing.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “The stuff I learned from is big on metaphor, but it was, you know, formal.”

“We’re going to die,” said Tucker.  

“We’re not going to die.  Let’s start with our names.  I’m Sam.”

“Danny.”

“Tucker.”  Tucker looked around, nervous.  “Do you think it wants our full names?”

“Yeah…” said Danny, also apprehensive.  “Magic usually does.” Not that he really knew, but that was the way it was in stories.  So.  “Daniel Vladimir Fenton.”

“Oh, gods, that’s your middle name?”

“Shut up.  I know yours is Meredith.”

Sam rolled her eyes with her entire body.  “Princess Samantha Annamarie Laurel Caspera Manson of Amity, Duchess of Beau.  Your turn.”

“Tucker,” he sighed, “Meredith Foley.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “maybe it means something else when it says all.”  

“Like what?  We’re the only ones here.”

Sam had started picking at her lip.  “We are,” she agreed.  “But…  The floor, it was a map, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I really hope you’re good at geography.  I’m not.”

“You’re a Ranger.”

“That has nothing to do with geography.”

Sam turned, surveying the room.  “What if it’s not the map, but the trees?”

“The… sculptures?”

“They’re under the stars, too aren’t they?”

.

The next half an hour or so was spent desperately trying to name… everything.  Danny and Tucker just recited every tree name and plant name they could remember - and some animal names just in case - while Sam was a bit more methodical.  Danny and Tucker’s frenzy was only occasionally interrupted by Sam saying something like Elmerton, Casper, Axion, Floode or Eerie.  

As a result, they had no idea who it was that finally triggered the walls to slide down again.  Danny, for one, didn’t really care.  He threw himself out as soon as he was able, and the others seemed to have the same opinion.  

He knelt on the grass and tilted his head up to catch the sparse sunlight filtering through the branches above him.  In doing so, he saw that everyone who had been there before was gone.  

“We weren’t gone long enough for everyone to have left, right?” asked Danny.  

“No,” said Sam, “not at all.”  She climbed to her feet and walked past him, examining the ground.  “It’s like they were never here at all…”

Tucker gasped and pointed up.  “Look at the tree!”

Fruit hung from its branches, heavy, round, and red.  

“What is that?” asked Danny.  

“You don’t know?”

“No.  I’ve never seen a tree like that.”

The walls of the small building grated as they started rising again.  Danny, Sam, and Tucker turned back to it, slowly.  Dread bubbled up in Danny’s stomach, creeping along his spine.

“Maybe we should just go back to the city,” said Danny.  

Sam shook her head.  “There’s no guarantee the city will even be there.”

“There’s no guarantee it won’t be.”

“And there’s no guarantee that stupid thing won’t disappear one of us if we look at it funny,” argued Tucker.  “Let’s cut our losses.”

“There must be a reason for this,” insisted Sam, crossing her arms.  “They wouldn’t just make all this happen for no reason.”

Danny eyed her suspiciously.  “There’s something else, isn’t there?  Something you know about this.”

Sam tapped her foot.  “Maybe,” she allowed.  “Nothing solid, mind you, but one Ranger journal I found suggested that this place was used by the old kings to petition the woods, and that they needed both royalty and Ranger to do it.  That’s… one of the reasons I wanted someone like you to come.”

“Petition it for what?”

“I don’t know.  It didn’t say.  It was one sentence in thousands.  It could have been anything.  Good harvests, few wolves, killing the Pariah King, whatever.  It might not have even been talking about here at all.  I just thought…  If there was anything left…”

“Clearly,” said Tucker, “there was something left.”

“Right,” said Sam.  “But it didn’t say anything about making people disappear.”

“It didn’t say anything about anything, is what it sounds like,” said Tucker.  

“Yes, but…”  She trailed off.  “Don’t you think it’s more likely that we were moved?  Considering.”  She gestured at the peaceful and undisturbed clearing.  “Even the path we came in on is gone.”

Danny hadn’t noticed that, but it was true.  The border of the clearing was entirely overgrown, with no sign that people had broken through the shrubs and small trees there.

“I think,” she said, “that to get back, we have to keep going.”  She looked between the two of them, then at the building, squaring her shoulders.  “I am sorry I brought you into this, but it’s done.  Let’s at least work together to get out of it.”

There wasn’t much choice, was there?  “Alright,” said Danny.  “Let’s go.”

The words on the walls were, predictably, different than they had been before.  Danny was getting used to this already, somehow.  “This is the wisdom of the land, that when the land drinks, the people shall drink, and when the people drink, so shall the land drink, and that when the land is fed, so shall the people be fed, and when the people are fed, so shall the land be fed.  For water to be received, it must be given.  Should salt be given, then salt shall be received.  The land that is fed on blood shall also bleed.  The seed that is planted will grow.  That which wakes will be woken.  The…”  Danny paused. 

“And you were doing so well, too.”

“Listen.”

“Sorry, it’s only… at least the last one had a clear instruction.  This sounds like some kind of philosophical statement.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those.”

“I’m not done yet,” said Danny, plaintively.  “I haven’t seen this word before.  I think it’s a person?  And they’re getting whatever they’re doing done to them?  It goes on like that for a while longer.”  He ran his finger down the line.  And then it says, because the people and the land are one, only about a dozen times.”

“Why would it say it a dozen times?” asked Tucker.  

“It uses a different word for land each time.”

Sam frowned at him.  He wasn’t looking at her, but he could feel it.  “What?”

“Like, mostly it uses the word for land that has trees on it, but–”

“You mean a forest?  Or wood?”

“No, there’s a different word for a forest.  Actually, there’s specifically a word for land that has a forest on it, as opposed to just trees.”  Which Danny only knew because a lot of alchemical potions had dirt as an ingredient.  Incredibly specific dirt.  “And there’s a different word for soil.  Or for unoccupied land.  It’s… the old language is weird.”  There was a reason it wasn’t spoken anymore.  

“And that’s it?”

“No, there’s one more line.  Show your intentions: to eat, and to be eaten.  No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.  That must be feed.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” said Tucker.  

“At least it’s an instruction.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to eat the fruit.  I might do that anyway, actually,” said Danny.  “What?  I’m hungry.  I didn’t eat anything at midday.”

“But what if you eat it, and then it eats you?”

“At least I won’t be hungry?”

“I think the bigger problem here is what if it’s poisonous,” said Sam.  

“Is that really the bigger problem?  Really?”  He gestured around himself.  “I’m going to eat one of those fruits and, uh.  Water the tree.”

“You can say you’re going to pee on it,” said Sam.  “I have bodily functions, too.”

“Whatever.  If that doesn’t work, we can try something else.”

Sam squinted at him.  He got the impression it wasn’t an expression she wore often, but it suited her face very well.  “You know, I expected a Ranger to know more about all of this.”

Tucker made flailing motions behind her.  

“That’s–  In the spirit of honesty, no one in my family has done real Ranger-ing since my grandfather disappeared when my mom was a little girl.”

“The woods do disappear people, oh my gods–”

“My parents just like camping and pretending there are still monsters, and Tucker said you needed someone, so…”

Sam’s whole face twitched.  “I see.  I suppose we can’t say we aren’t similar, then, with respect to false pretenses.  But… let’s not do that anymore.  For the sake of not dying.”  She paused.  “Is the red–”

“It’s really anti-magic.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped.  “At least there’s that.  If the fruit starts turning you into, I don’t know…”

“A wolf,” suggested Tucker.  

“Why not?  A wolf, I’ll make sure to pour it down your throat.”

Danny rolled his eyes.  “And if it’s poisonous, I’ll eat a bezoar.”  

“What’s that?” asked Sam.  

“Thing that helps with poison.  It’s gross, you don’t want to know where they come from.”

“I thought we were being honest–”

“It’s a stone formed in a someone’s stomach or gut,” said Danny.  “Like a gallstone.”

Sam looked fascinated, if disgusted.  “Does… does that actually work?”

“I’m… not actually sure.  But it can’t hurt.”

“I don’t know, it kind of sounds like it could be poisonous on it’s own.”

That was what Danny said to his parents, but did they listen?  No.  

He shrugged at Sam walked away from the building and towards the shore of the pond, where the branches trailed in the water and the fruit was easier to reach.  He pulled one off and rolled it in his hand.  It felt like a plum, even if the size and color was off.  

“Danny, are you sure,” started Tucker.  

"Am I sure what?" asked Danny, opening his kit.

"What are you doing?"

Danny looked down at the beaker in his hand, then back up at Tucker.  "Testing for common poisons?"

"Oh.  I thought you were just going to eat it."

"No, that's weird."  He set up his materials and poked a hole in the fruit with his knife to get some juice.  He let it drip into the containers, then stood up to throw the punctured fruit into the pond.

"Maybe we shouldn't throw things into the potentially magic pond," suggested Sam in a way that wasn't very suggestion-like.  

Danny shrugged at her, wondering vaguely if shrugging at royalty was a punishable offense.  Something caught his eye.

“Hey, there’s a bucket here,” said Danny.  “Do you think we’re supposed to do something with the bucket?”  He walked over and picked it up.

"Maybe it's to actually water the tree," said Tucker.  

"That makes sense," said Danny.  He tossed the bucket at Tucker.  Tucker fumbled it.  

“Why me?”

“I’ve got to watch this,” said Danny, pointing at where the fruit was reacting or not reacting to the chemicals in the beakers.  “And, well…”

“Dear gods,” said Sam.  “You had better not be about to say that I’m somehow unable to fill and carry a bucket because I’m a girl.”

“No.  I just thought you wouldn’t want to.”  And she could probably make life very hard for them if they annoyed her too much.  

Sam scoffed and took the bucket from Tucker.  “I’ve got it.”  

“Alright,” said Tucker.  “She’s got it.”

.

The tests for poison came back negative, so…

Danny bit into a fruit he’d just picked and blinked.  “Oh, these are actually really good.”

“We’ll take your word for it.”

.

“Look,” said Tucker, “That thing’s not doing anything, so I’m going to see if I can find the main road.  I’d prefer it if you came with me, but…”

“Might as well,” said Danny.  

“Fine,” said Sam.  “But we’re going to take precautions to make sure we can get back here.”

“Like what?” asked Danny.  

Sam pulled out a clue of string from… somewhere.  

“Do you just carry that around?”

“Of course.  String is useful.”

.

It turned out it didn’t matter.  No matter how they left the clearing, they wound up back in it.  

.

"It's been a couple hours," said Danny as they laid on the ground under the tree.  "I probably would have died by now if there was actually poison in those fruits."

"Mhm," said Sam, contemplatively.

"Just a question, but, speaking of which, have either of you noticed the sun getting lower?"

"No," said Sam.

"Nope," said Tucker.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."  He looked up at the still-blue sky.  “You guys are going to have to eat or drink something eventually.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “But I’ve been thinking, and… what if it takes us someplace worse?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  

“Staying isn’t an option.”

“It could be.  Maybe the fruit grows back, or there’s fish in the pond.”

“Have you seen any fish?” asked Danny.  

“No.  Why?”

“Sometimes people use fish as fertilizer.”

“We don’t have anything to catch fish with.”

“We’ve got string and the fruit.  Maybe we can find some worms, too?”

“Might as well,” said Sam.  

.

None of them were particularly skilled at fishing.  No fish were caught.  

.

Sam chewed on the fruit.  “You know,” she said, “if it weren’t for the mortal peril and all, I’d say this was pretty good.”

“It is tasty,” allowed Tucker, who was pausing to glare at the fruit between every bite.  

“No, I mean all this.”  Sam waved at nothing in particular.  “It’s nice.  Fun.”  

At least someone was having a good day.  He’d been trying to ignore the swollen lump on the back of his head and his black eye, but it hadn’t really been working.  

Under other circumstances, though… He could see hanging out with Sam and Tucker being fun.  The odds of that happening if Sam went on with princess-ing and Tucker became a monk were pretty low, though.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything without being watched by half a dozen people since I was eight.”

“Anything?” repeated Danny.

“Anything.”

Danny didn’t want to ask, but the question was there, in his head.

“Yes, in the bath, too.”  She sighed and held up the fruit pit.  “I suppose we should bury these?  Over there, maybe?”

“Can’t hurt,” said Danny.  “Anyone have a shovel?  And– Oh!”  He opened up his kit.  “We can use this!”  He held up a vial of white powder.

“What’s that?”

“Niter!”

“... Doesn’t that explode?” asked Tucker.

“Sometimes.”

“Why do we want to explode anything?” asked Sam.  

“We don’t.  It’s fertilizer.”

“But it’s white.”

“So?”

Tucker sighed heavily.  “Maybe we can use the bucket as a shovel?”

.

Sam patted down the last bucket-scrape of dirt with a gleeful expression.  They were all pretty grimy at this point, but it looked like she was enjoying it.  

The scraping sound wasn’t exactly music to Danny’s ears, but it was still something.  They ran to the building.  Three of the walls had dropped.  The one nearest to the pond had remained standing.  

Danny swallowed.  Something felt… Not wrong, exactly, but there was a strong sense of meaning.  

“Hey,” he said, before Sam and Tucker could step in, “wait.  Maybe only one of us should go in.  Just in case.”

“In case what?  We’re already in a bad way,” said Sam.  “We might as well face this together.”

Danny nodded.  “Yeah, but this feels…  Different.  If everything’s fine, you can come in, too.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny, “but you wanted a Ranger for a reason.”

“Yes, but we’ve established you aren’t one.”

“I’m enough of one for us to get here, right?  If I get stuck in there, you can always plant more pits and open it back up.”

“And who knows if we’ll be in the same place?” asked Sam.  

“Just… humor me on this,” said Danny.  “And remember, if I do get cursed, we have the magicidium.”

“There has to be an easier name for that,” muttered Tucker. 

“Sure.  Blood blossoms.  They’re called that because they’re red.”

Tucker spread his hands.  “Then why–”

“I like saying it.  It makes it sound cooler.”

Sam raised her hand, stopping them.  “You know you’re the only one who can read the old language, right?  You’d be the one going in to look at what’s written there.”

“I know.  I’m the one who suggested it.”

Sam groaned, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her wrists.  “I should have learned the old language instead of Elmerian.”

Danny shrugged.  “There’s always the future?”

Both of… oh, he might as well call them his friends, at this point… glared at him.  

“Fine,” said Sam, “but if you do get cursed, I’m going to say I told you so.”

With trepidation, Danny crossed into the building.  The floor and ceiling hadn’t changed, but the only upright wall was now packed with writing.  He craned his neck back to see what was on top.  The words almost seemed to glitter.

“This is a lot,” he said.  

“Can we come in now?” asked Sam.

“Not yet,” said Danny.  “Let me translate this first.  Children of the land, know this, we, your forefathers, and we of the land have built this path to see the… obscured?”  A shadow fell across Danny’s view of the carving, making the words seem to flash.  He stood on his tip-toes and leaned closer, squinting.  “To understand the world… beyond?  Within.  The world within the woods, and you have come because they have failed and you wish to repair.”  He put his hand on the stone as he leaned still closer, nose almost pressed against the stone in an effort to see just a little better.  It slid into a comfortable depression and he continued to read.  “Let the bright magic– mana– let mana alter–”

Light flared across his vision, then everything went dark.  He yelped.  

“Danny?!”

“I’m–  Hells and heavens–”   He rubbed his eyes.  “The sun didn’t suddenly disappear after that flash, did it?”

“No.”

“What flash?”

He’d been afraid of that.  “I’ve been cursed.”  His heart did a funny twist at the admission.  

If his parents were here, they’d be thrilled.  

Actually, probably not.  If they’d been cursed, they’d be thrilled.  They’d still be upset about him getting cursed.

“What?”

“I can’t see anything.  I must have triggered it somehow–”  He shook his head, as if that would throw off his blindness.  “The word obscured.  I thought it was just the lighting, but maybe it really flashed?  Um.”  He turned around, carefully.  “I think it was just the words that triggered it, but I’m going to walk in your direction…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tucker, “you’re going the right way.”

“Just stay straight,” encouraged Sam.  

The building was barely three strides across, but at the same time it was the longest walk he’d ever taken.  He was relieved when Sam and Tucker grabbed him.  

“Alright, so, if you guys can open my kit and get out the magicidium–”

“Blood blossoms.  Let’s call it blood blossoms.”

“Whatever you want,” said Danny.  

“They’re red, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, and sparkly.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Good,” said Danny, holding out his hand.  “Can you–  The cap?”

Sam pressed the vial into his hand, her fingers lingering around his as she made sure he had a grip on it.  

“I should just need, like, a sip,” he told himself.  He raised it to his lips, drank, and immediately knew that what he had in his hand wasn’t the blood blossom mixture.

With a calm he didn’t feel, he lowered the vial. 

“Can you see, now?” asked Sam.  

“No,” said Danny.  “I can’t.  What color is this?”  He held up the vial.

“Red,” said Sam.  

“The vial is red,” clarified Danny.

“Yes, that’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Danny, closing his eyes.  “That’s- The blood blossoms are red.  But the vial they’re in is green.  This is the mana, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” said Tucker.  

“Kinda crackly glaze, glowing green on the inside?”

“Yeah,” said Tucker, weakly.  “It looked different in the dark.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, voice cracking.  “The dark does that.”

“I thought you said the red vial,” said Sam, very quietly.  “Oh, no, I thought you said the red vial.”  She sounded like she might be about to cry.

“Hey, it’s hard to tell the difference between red and green,” said Tucker, clearly intending to comfort her.    

“Genuinely, it is not.”

Someone, probably Tucker, swallowed audibly.  “You can still take the blood blossoms, though, right?”

“No!  No.  They don’t react well with concentrated mana.”

“By not reacting well, do you mean–”

“Niter isn’t the only thing in my kit that can make explosions.”  He swallowed and opened his eyes.  He still couldn’t see anything but this still felt more like facing things.  “This is fine.  I’m just blind, not dying.”  Probably.  “We’ll just be relying on more guesswork than before.  Or I can try to figure out what it’s saying by touch?”

“No,” said Sam, grabbing his wrist, “do you want to get more cursed?”

“Carefull,” he hissed.  “We don’t want to spill this here.  Where’s the stopper?”

“Here,” said Tucker, taking the vial of mana from him.  

“What else do you remember from what you were reading?  Before you were cursed?”

“I don’t know.  Something about letting magic change you to be…  Something.  And then something about guarding both sides on the next line down.  Or fighting.  Maybe something about waking up.  I don’t remember.”  

“Danny,” said Tucker, “your eyes are glowing.”

“They’re not, like, melting or anything, are they?”

“Just glowing.  The same color as the, uh, stuff.  The mana.”

“And your hair is turning white,” added Sam.  

“Oh, that’s great.  Maybe I am dying.”

“Don’t say that,” said Sam.  “Maybe- Maybe this is magic changing you, and we just have to let it run its course.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I, but it’s that or you explode, so forgive me for a little optimism!”  She’d never dropped his wrist, and now she trapped his hands between hers.  “I don’t want you to die.”

“Neither do I,” said Tucker.  “You’re my best friend.”

“We haven’t seen each other for years,” said Danny, trying not to sound choked.  “Come on.”

“Hey, some friendships are timeless, right?”

Sam sniffled.  “Even short ones.”

Gods, he really might be dying.  

“Does that mean I can tell people I’m friends with a princess?”

“Only if you want my mother trying to get you executed.”

“That’s not a n–”

The sound of the wall behind him dropping made Danny jump.  But what made him spin was that he could see light coming from behind him.  

Footprints made of flowers glowed on the ground.  A rectangle in the dimensions of the far wall was cut out of the darkness surrounding him.  Beyond it…

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Do you guys see that?”

“Do you?” asked Sam, suddenly sharp.  

“Maybe.”  He took a deep shuddering breath.  “Were there steps leading down to the pond before?  And was the pond glowing?”

“No,” said Tucker.  “But we don’t see that.”

“We see everyone,” said Sam.  “The way out.  The knights are there, someone must have sent for them.”  She laughed.  “We can get out.  They must not be able to see us, though.”

“I don’t think I can go that way,” said Danny.  “I don’t see it.”

He could only see the ancient and watchful trees that surrounded the clearing, the faintly luminous waters of the pond and the steps that led down to them.  Images of trees, not quite reflections, swayed on the pond’s glowing surface, seeming to extend into the depths.

“You should go,” he said, faintly.  “Now.  You don’t know if you’ll get another chance.”

If his heart had been twisting before, it was shuddering now.  

“No,” said Sam.  “No.  I started this.  None of this would have happened if I didn’t bring you here.  I’m not going to leave you.  We’ll go down to the pond with you.  Or at least I will.”  The last was said with an edge of challenge.

“Me, too,” said Tucker, though he seemed far less certain.  “I got you into this mess, Danny.”

“I don’t know that I’m going down to the pond,” said Danny, both touched and annoyed.  “And you don’t know if you can, if you can’t see it.”

“It’s where the path leads,” said Sam, stubbornly.  “Didn’t you read that that’s why this place was built.”

The footprints.  Danny closed his eyes briefly, and nodded.  “Walk where I walk,” he said, putting his foot squarely on the first print.  

He wasn’t sure if it was just the magic doing weird things to his vision, but as he got closer to the opening, the prints seemed to shift when he wasn’t looking straight at them, taking shapes other than a human sole.  He tried not to think about what that might mean.

He stepped out of the building.  Sam and Tucker walked out after him.  

“Wow,” said Sam, looking around.  “That’s… definitely different.”  She waved her hand in front of her.  “It’s like the air is glowing.”

A breeze stirred the waters of the pond to lap at the lowest step.  It felt like they were beckoning him down into that even stranger forest beneath its waters.

He pulled the strap of his travel kit off over his head.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Tucker.  “Just in case.”

“We’re going to be with you,” said Tucker, trying to push it back to him.  

“Yeah, but… Let me go first, alright?”

He stepped down and forward, once, twice, and his foot broke the surface of the water–

.

A forest is not a single thing.  It is a vast and sprawling ecosystem, containing within itself multitudes.  Creatures, plants, and even decay.  Life, limited and not.  Water, from beneath the earth, from the sky, from the rivers and streams, from the lakes and the ponds.  Air and soil and stone.  Death that becomes life and life that becomes death.  The trees stretch upwards.  

Yet, it is a single thing.  

Truthfully, sometimes it is even a single life.  A thousand trees with a single root.

And, here, there was magic.  

The woods woke, stirred from slumber by the ripples of a stone thrown into still water.  

A stone is changed by water.  A stone is changed, also, by the root of a tree piercing through it, dividing it, scattering it.  A stone may be shaped.  A stone may be changed.  But this stone was clay.  This stone was flesh.  This stone was a seed that might yet grow.  This seed was a star that might yet shine.  

They were awake.  

They were awake, and, so, they would wake.  

But the people were the land and the land was the woods, and the heart of the land had long ago promised a champion to the people, a guardian at both sides of the gate.  A contract that was wisdom.

The seed was well rooted, but the star was of the air, and there was accord between heaven and earth.  This satisfied.  But the price of knowledge was always the destruction of ignorance.  

This was the past:  The sword, the spear, the fire, for evil is the reward of evil, and sown salt shall reap no harvest but salt.  Monsters met with monstrous ends, even the monsters who called themselves men.  

“I don’t want to be a killer,” whispered Danny, “I don’t want to kill people.”

Then he would not be, and the gifts of killers would not be his.  

This, too, was the past: The wall.  The tower.  The rope.  The net.  The maze.  The binding word.  The sacrifice.  The promise.  

It shall be kept.  

“It shall be kept.”

And this was the past:  The house that was built under ax and saw, a home for a gardener.  The books that became forests of their own.  Long memories and longer stories, passed on forever.  The campfire and the meal shared.  The trees tended, and new growth rising from ashes. 

“I can do that,” said Danny.  “I can be that.”

The heart of the land sent forth a gift, with passion, wisdom, and wit, and it was received.  That which gives is also given, and that which is gifted may also receive.  There were gifts.  There were expectations.  A gift must be given in turn.

And the fruit of the trees shall sustain.  And the branches of the trees shall shelter.  And that which is protected shall protect.

And this was the future.

.

Danny crawled out of the pond, gasping.  Hands - familiar, now - pulled him up and out.  

“Oh, gods, Danny–”

“What?” he managed, spitting up water.  

“There’s stuff growing on you–”

“Your ears–”

“Princess Samantha!”

Something heavy and hard jostled into their little group, knocking Danny back to the ground.  He could feel it.  The ground.  All those little lives and deaths.  The things growing, hungry, wanting, needing– All the things he could give them–

“Stop this at once!” demanded Sam, bringing him out of… whatever that was.  He looked up and around, and was impressed by how many sharp, shiny, pointy things were pointed in his direction.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but was thwarted by his body deciding it just wasn’t going to do that.  His whole body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together with new parts.

… Which might actually be what happened.  The… presence in the woods within the pond had been…  It had been an experience.  One he wasn’t keen on repeating in the near future but nevertheless ached for.  

His head didn’t hurt anymore, at least.

“Back foul beast!” shouted one of the knights with a spear, his voice reverberating within his helmet.  “You will not lay your hand on the princess–”

“I was the one touching him!  He’s not a beast– Let me go!  Tucker, say something!”

“Please don’t kill us!  Danny’s just cursed!”

“What manner of curses have you wrought upon the princess!  Release her from your geas, monster!”

If Danny wasn’t so scared right now, he’d be laughing.  Who talked like that?

But he was scared.  He needed to get away.  He needed speed, swiftness, and the agility, or at least the size, to avoid all these spears and swords.  

Which was a ridiculous thought to cross his mind, because it wasn’t like he was going to pull any of those things from thin air.  

Except he did.  Change rippled over his body, throwing off white sparks like from fireworks.  Fingernails to claws, hands to paws, ears sharp, tail -  He ran, four-footed, between the feet of the nearest knight, body stretching and contracting in his flat-out sprint as if he knew what he was doing.  

He had no idea what he was doing.  

A spear impacted the ground in front of him, and he startled sideways into a horse’s path.  Everything was so much larger than him, now.  He lashed out, claws raking across the horse’s nose, and the horse reared back, dumping its rider.  

It occurred to Danny, then, in a sort of vague, panicked sense, that whatever he’d turned into, he could cause a lot of chaos.  

The next horse he saw, he went for the eyes.  

He neglected to realize that, as small as he was, chaos might affect him more than it usually did.  

Still, he made it to the brushy edge of the clearing in what he hoped was one piece.  He crawled underneath it, hopping through thin spots whenever he was able.  A tree rose up out of the shrubby mess like a godsent miracle, and he climbed up it, sinking his sharp claws into the bark, until he got to a branch that could support his weight.  His real weight, not whatever he weighed now.  

He huddled down, trying to remember what the change felt like, trying to will it to reverse, to make him himself again–

Slowly, his body returned to normal, fur fading back into skin, claws becoming nails once again.  His clothing, sans shoes, rematerialized from somewhere.  But… This wasn’t what his body had been like when he’d crawled out of the pond.  It had been different, then.  He could feel it.  He knew it.  

The tree he was perched in was not the presence below the pond, but that was a matter of degree, not kind.  The roots of the woods were tangled and reached as far down as the branches reached up.  To stone.  To star.  

It was quiet.  Steady.  Already established.  It didn’t need things from him, not like the ground.  Not right now, anyway.  

But still, it whispered to him, and he knew.  This was no more him than the forest cat's body he'd worn moments ago.

He curled in on himself and cried.

.

Tucker found him first, over a week later.

Although, it might have been better to say that Danny let himself be found.  Shapeshifting into a cat or squirrel helped with hiding, funnily enough.  

Shapeshifting was fun, even if it wasn't worth… everything else.  At least, so long as he was in the trees.  With his feet on the ground, listening to everything beneath them, without the lightning focus of fear, he couldn't direct it.  What he was fell apart into… this.  

Not the same as he'd been as Sam and Tucker dragged him from the pond, but more like it.  A shape closer to what he was wanted to be rather than what he wanted to be.  

But he'd seen Tucker coming, and he didn't want to talk to him while hiding in the trees.  That would be wrong, he felt.  

So, he walked into the middle of the road in front of Tucker, moss and grass curling up around toes that weren’t shaped right.  His fingers were long and sharp and so were his teeth.  He had no idea what his face looked like right now.  He hadn’t been brave enough to check… assuming, of course, that he could even tell by touch.  He could have stripes right now and not know it.  

He hoped he was, at least, recognizable.  

“Danny, gods.  We thought you were dead.”

Oh, good.  At least that fear was unfounded.  

“Hi, Tucker,” said Danny.  After not talking much for a week, his voice was scratchy.  

… Or maybe that was the crying.  Who knew?

“Oh my gods.”  Tucker drew his hands down his face.  “I can understand why you didn’t come back to the city with…”  He gestured at Danny’s entire body.

“That’s not why,” said Danny, before he could continue.  “I can’t leave the woods.”

“You what?  What do you mean, you can’t leave?”

“I just can’t.”  He’d tried to leave, at the beginning, but it didn’t work.  He could walk to the border of the woods, where they opened up into the fields immediately around the city.  He was quite comfortable there, even, standing under those branches, looking out.  But he couldn’t go any further.  

“Because of the curse?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  “There’s not really anything else, is there?  There’s not something that just makes people stop for no good reason.”  

“Can you– I brought the blood blossom stuff, can you take it?  Maybe–”

“No,” said Danny, firmly.

“But–” said Tucker, pulling the green vial out of his pocket.  

Danny wanted to cringe away from it.  “Just.  No.  Tucker…  I’m not sure how much…”  He wasn’t sure how much of him was left that wasn’t magic.  “Sometimes, when curses really take hold, it doesn’t–”  He sucked his lips in and regretted it as his long teeth scrapped at them.  “What do you think happens when that stuff is put on something that is magic?”  Danny tilted his head to the side and tried to smile again.  “It’s been over a week.”  

He watched Tucker’s face shift as he realized what that might mean, and his smile fell as well.  

"I've seen my parents come through a few times," he said, just to say something different.

"Did you talk to them?"

"No." He grimaced.  "Apparently, I'm a creature now.”  He ignored that he’d said as much to Tucker just moments ago.  “It didn't seem… smart."

"That must be…"  Tucker paused to search for an appropriate adjective.  "Hard."

"Yeah."  He'd been wondering if Jazz had come home.  If she was looking for him, too, or if she was still in Elmerton.  If she knew.  But he didn’t want to ask.  

"Sam will want to see you."  Tucker bit his lower lip.  "She kind of… asked if I would look.  I was going to anyway!  But… I can tell her I couldn't find you, if you don't." 

“No, I think I’d like that, actually.  She was right.  It was fun, before.”  He sniffled.  “Maybe we can even try to find what she was actually looking for.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Tucker, aghast.  “Messing around with all of this cursed you to have weird ears and be stuck in the woods for who knows how long.  Let’s just forget–  Well, I mean, avoid anything else like this as much as we can.”

The woods leaned in around them.  “I don’t think it works like that,” said Danny.  “Things are waking up.  And I think… I think the only reason Sam was able to find the- the path was because the woods were already waking up.  And some of the things… I don’t think they’re good, Tuck.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” squeaked Tucker.  “You know your eyes are glowing again, right?”

“Are they?”  He blinked and shook his head.  “Have you been looking for me the whole time?”

Tucker laughed nervously.  “No.  There’s, uh.  Turns out that if you disappear with the princess there are questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  So many questions.”  He shuddered.  “And my master is angry at me.  And the guild is angry with me.  But I’m fine!  What- What have you been up to?  What else have you been up to?  I, uh.  Ha.  Ha?"

A wry smile twitched the corner of Danny's lips.  "The tops of the trees, I guess." 

[lyrenminth]

Quiet love 3/?

The things went down from there. You avoided him more than ever while your grieved your friendship and your unrequited love. It was a big loss, so much that you asked money from your parents for a deposit. You contacted the external friend Lydia told you about, and she was looking for a roommate. Her name was Grace and she sounded kind by the phone. You didn't thought it was so bad. Since Justin was preparing for the games he was busy but you could tell he was avoiding you too and that hurt you even more. You stopped having dinner together and it was more like you hiding in your room or arriving late.

When you saw him, you were polite and distant.

The dynamic was killing you inside.

You started packing your things when Grace told you the previous roomate was leaving. You signed the lease to secure your exit. It was time to put your big girl pants.

One day your mom video called you, and she was worried.

"You don't feel comfortable in his house?" she asked.

"It's not that...I need my space. I can't be living in his house forever, mom" you explained. She bite her lip. "Please, respect my decisions"

"That's ok, but I don't want you to go homeless"

You laughed. "Don't worry about that"

"Holly wanted to talk to you" she lowered his voice. "She is worried about Justin"

You felt as if someone was throwing a bucket of cold water on you.

"Why?"

"Justin hasn't answer any calls or messages from anyone since a week ago. She didn't want to panic because the NFL is rough but that's a lot of time. And since you are living with him she wanted you to check on him" your mom explained. "Maybe the stress of the game is taking a toll on him"

You blinked. The Chargers weren't exactly winning but it wasn't that bad. They had a good record.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm going to check on him"

"And how you are doing, darling?"

You smiled through the pain.

"Good I like my new job" you started "And California is great, I meet..."

You told your mom everything about the courses and your discoveries, but you mind was on Justin.

When you finished the call, you sent him a message. He was traveling for an away game so it was less likely to answer you but you tried anyway.

Hello

Your mom is worried bout you.

Be a good son and send her a message pls

For your suprise, he replied within minutes. It was ten pm.

I'll do

Thank you

The three dots appeared, and you looked at the screen expecting something but after a couple of seconds it stopped. And you heart broke more.

Losing a friend fucking sucks.

***

On Sunday, Justin got injured during the game. So you were worried about him and decided to stay a couple of days just to see how he was doing. You told Grace and Lydia about delaying moving in.

You were doing a favor to Holly and Mark while they arrived to L.A. His manager, Ashley was in the house at times too. You met a lot of people from his world. Coaches, therapists and assistants.

You realize how important he was for the team.

They always looked at you in surprise then look at Justin like saying "Who's this chick?" it was uncomfortable, but he never told them you were his friend or his lover either. You were just Y/N.

You made him breakfast often. The doctor was optimistic about the injury, he could move and do many things, but he was grumpy most of the time. Being out of the game was one of the things he hated the most. You helped him to stand up and drive him to the facility for his therapy.

"If you need something send me a message" you said, he was in the kitchen eating breakfast.

"Thank you"

"You welcome"

His eyes were speaking but you couldn't decipher the words.

"The boxes...are you leaving?" he struggled to say.

Did he checked your room? Why? Why does he always act like he cares?

"Yeah, I found a nice aparment"

"I- well, were you comfortable here?" his expression was unreadable.

"Yes, thank you for letting me stay" you grabbed your bag and looked at the clock. "Ashley must be here at anytime. I should go to work, you can change your diaper yourself, right?" you joked.

The truth was the injury made you feel less angry with him. It didn't matter that he didn't want you back, you didn't like to see him suffer. He was still an important person in your life, no matter how painful was to look at him now.

And you promise in middle school to have each other's backs.

"Yes, I'm an expert now" he replied, following the joke. You lingered in your place for a couple of seconds, just to see if he said something, but nope. So you said goodbye and left the house.

When you arrive at noon, Holly and Mark were there. You were so happy to see them too.

"Oh, it is so nice to see you again" you hugged them, feeling relieved.

"Look at you" said Holly at your attire. A pencil skirt and a blazer, both in purple color "You look stunning"

That night you put your best act. Nobody could tell Justin and you weren't speaking to each other days ago. And you were glad to have more familiar faces around.

You were talking about your impressions of California, and Justin didn't speak so much. Maybe he wanted to rest since he looked tired.

"She found an apartment too" Justin added, and he sounded so bitter it made you frown.

Holly and Mark looked at you.

"Wow, it is expensive?" Mark asked.

"Not that expensive"

"Did Justin told you something?" Holly asked, looking at his son.

"Not, not at all. It was just time"

"I bet"

Justin was glaring at you, and you didn't understood why he was mad. Maybe he was feeling pain again. You didn't want to deal with his mood swings.

"You should go to sleep a little bit" you suggested, in a cold tone.

The rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"I'm tired" he sighed.

The mood shifted. You felt the tension in your spine and tried to rescue the night.

"Everyone must be tired" you said, standing up and picking up the plates. "You come from a long travel from Oregon" you said to Justin's parents "You better sleep a little bit"

His parents imitated you, but you noticed Mark side-eyed Justin with disapproval.

****

In the morning, you were preparing in your room for work when someone knocked your door.

It was Justin in all his splendor. Looking grumpy as ever.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure" you said without looking at him.

He got inside and closed the door.

"Are you parents up?" you asked, putting lipstick on in front of the mirror.

That morning you were feeling better. Justin's parents always put you in a good mood.

The boxes were still sealed in the corner of your room. When he didn't replied you turned around to look at him. He was fidgeting with the hem of his Nike shirt.

"Is everything alright?" you prompted.

"Yeah...no, no really" You tilted your head to one side, looking at him up and down. "I'm sorry"

The apology landed in a sore spot.

"For what?" you were using the profesional voice you use for clients. His behavior last night was unacceptable. Ridiculous.

"For lying to you" you frowned "I know, I've always know but I was scared and I'm so sorry for being a coward. And for last night too, I was a douche"

"W-what are you talking about?" you asked, referring to the first part of his speech.

"I like you...I like you since highschool or even before, I don't know" he admitted, quickly.

You stopped breathing for a second, your organs melting inside your body.

"Why did you tell me you weren't sure?" you were cautious. At first you didn't believe him, you needed to prevent any type of miscommunication.

"Because I was scared" he explained, walking three steps toward you only to stop suddenly. You didn't move an inch "I...my lifestyle makes me feel like I can't be in a relationship, I'm busy all the time. I don't want you to feel neglected. It's just that...I wasn't ready for the change"

You studied his words and expression, he sounded and looked sincere.

He got closer again, reaching for you like a giant lost kid.

"Are you ready for the change now?" you asked, not processing completely what was happening.

"Yes, yes I am" he touched your shoulder, and you noticed he was shaking slightly. Poor Justin.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes to hug him carefully. He hug you back, hiding his face on the curve of your neck.

"Justin, do-do you like me?" you wanted to hear him once again. Only to know you weren't dreaming. You looked at him "Is this happening?"

"Yes, I like you"

"Why do you decide to tell me now?"

"My dad sensed something was off and talked to me" he said "I just needed to hear it from someone I trust"

"Hear what?"

"What I'm losing by letting you go"

"I'm going to say thank you to him" he laughed. His expression morphed into something serious, desire. His pretty green eyes scanned your face for a sign, his eyes lingered on your lips. A silent plea. You leaned forward, and he tilt his head only to brush his lips against yours. The warm of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you put your hand on his chest to steady yourself. You could feel how fast his heart was beating. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered aggressively.

He did it again, only to make sure you weren't running away. In the third, his pretty mouth landed on yours, and you opened your lips. Kissing Justin felt right all the way. He was careful at the beginning, but as the time pass you needed more. You tongue search for his, and he gave you all you wanted. You fist his shirt, dragging him down to your height.

"Oh my god!" Holly's voice startled you both. You separate, your cheeks burning red. You glance at Justin who was looking the same. "I-I made breakfast, guys" she said, hiding a smile.

"Thanks, mom" Justin said in the most causal tone he could gather.

"I'll wait for you in the kitchen"

When she was gone, you touched your lips. Justin had lipstick on his lips too. You laughed and he looked at you confused.

"You look good with that tone" you said, looking for a wipe. He looked in your mirror and frowned. You gave him the wipe so he could clean himself.

The breakfast was kinda uncomfortable. Holly was trying to act cool, but you were nervous.

"Are you guys dating?" Mark asked, by looking at your face.

"Yes" Justin said, eating bacon.

His answer made you happy. Was this really happening? He sounded so confident about it.

"About time! I'm calling your mom!' announced Holly only to be stopped by Mark.

You knew your mom made some gestures toward Justin indicating her likeness for him as your partner, but you never expect Holly to like you too.

It was heart-warming.

"Once Justin is recovered you should go to the games, using his number and everything" Holly suggested. You were at some games before, wearing the colors of the team, but never official merchandise (you weren't the most fan) but the idea of being there as his partner was terrifying and exciting at the same time.

Justin looked at you with warmness in his eyes. And you swore he was the most beautiful man in the world.

The idea of dating him was the best.

[philtstone]

WIP word search

got tagged by the lovely and talented @painted-doe! as i am currently in my "million wips" era (and also my psych era...), this worked out perfectly friend

the assigned keywords are [drumroll]: ignore, kind, lose, silver

ignore

a silly, lighthearted and perhaps slightly lewd ficlet from the mollyverse in which recent mother juliet is determined to overcome her unanticipated new insecurities before reinstating regular sexy times with her husband

She had thought that maybe if she ignored it, it would go away, but it hasn’t. She pees differently now. There’s a strange dark line going through her bellybutton. Her sweat smells bizarre.

This is what complacency gets you, says Carlton’s voice in the back of her head. She should’ve been more vigilant about expecting the inescapable doom of post-baby body dysmorphia.

2. kind

a not-silly, not-lighthearted and definitely g rated ficlet from the mollyverse in which molly overhears her parents have a fight for the very first time

Molly’s great at counting. She’s great at addition too. She can remember which number she started with in her head and what it looks like before she breaks it up to add to the next one. Ms. Delaney, her kindergarten teacher, says this makes her advanced for her age, which is a word she and Jay found once in Uncle Gus's old spelling bee workbooks. She likes it when the smaller numbers carry, like they’re jumping from one side of the bed to another. She likes to pretend that adding one number to another to make it bigger is kind of like two people making friends. Molly loves her friends. They are, in order, Junior; then Fish; then Yasmine from the other kindergarten class; then Mr. Snufalluffapus the stuffed elephant. When Jay, who is her best friend, is around, Molly feels bigger – and cooler and braver, and she has more fun than when she’s alone.

3. lose

a supposedly lighthearted follow-up to this fic, bc shawn and gus r very important to me, and i swear it really is a fun time only the word "lose" cropped up in the angstiest part of the thing

Shawn’s had his head in his hands for like, the past twenty minutes. He crashed about an hour ago, which was okay, because by then they’d already made it out of the red tape of the precinct and driven the Blueberry halfway to nowhere. He gives a tight twitch, like he’s not sure whether to nod or shake his head or brush Gus off entirely.

“I’m not dead either,” Gus adds, pointedly. Sharp inhale. Like when they were ten and Shawn almost choked on a pixie stick he wasn’t supposed to be sucking on in gym class. Gus wonders if he’s finally going to lose his cool, like, really lose it. The way most other people who lived through tonight would.

“No,” he says, into his knees.

“You wanna go see Juliet?” Gus asks quietly after a long moment.

“Yeah,” Shawn says in a hoarse, tiny voice.

“Okay.”

They do.

4. silver (this one's way too long but i couldn't cut the bit off any sooner im sorry i got too attached)

the previously-mentioned princess bride flavored au which i swear i'll actually finish one day

The forcible swerve into objectively-beneath-the-law outlaw life, to be specific. He and Gus were not, really, important members of the court. They weren’t even important members of the county. Sure, they helped Sheriff Vick solve the disappearance of that one minor noble who wanted to make away with his father’s fortune, and sure, Shawn had officially been placed on the captain of the guard’s shit-list, and sure, maybe he had lied a bit (read: a lot) about a potential druid lineage on his mother’s side. But that was only to avoid getting humiliated via stocks in the village square! He has an image to maintain, here!

None of these things made any lick of difference to the new Sheriff, who exiled them because – get this – I can’t fucking stand these two idiots. Tell them they’re banned from the county.

And now here they are. Exiled. Traveling con men. Outlaws, even. 

“Like Robin Hood,��� Shawn said, after the prince’s grand uncle twice removed paid them two silver pieces to read his fortune by the roadside.

“Robin Hood is a children’s fairytale, Shawn,” Gus had to remind him. “And he was a tax evader.”

“Gus, we’re tax evaders.”

Gus had been so displeased by this reminder he’d told Shawn that they had to stop for the night so he could reorganize his apothecary kit. Shawn had perhaps unwisely reminded him that he’d technically stolen the apothecary kit from his old boss.

“I didn’t have time to give it back, Shawn!” Gus protested. “We got exiled, remember?”

Alas, true.

@firstelevens @sesamestreep @sayheykid @flyinghome-againstthewind @emilybrontay and anyone else who wants to play -- your keywords are peach, end, king, and teeth

have fun!

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - ch 14

Hello all, As promised, here we are with anew chapter and the resolution of the cliffhanger from the previous chapter. Please be ready for a lot of fussing and domestic fluff.

MASTERLIST

“There has been an accident.”

Rowan’s heart raced “What is it Ilias?”

“Aelin and Maya. We are with them now.”

“Where?” 

Ilias gave him the location and Rowan dressed quickly like a madman. 

He should have pushed harder. Stopped her from driving away. It was his fault. It was his bloody fault.

It did not take long for him to drive to the site, the blue sirens of a fire engine guiding him like a lighthouse.

As soon as he was on site he darted outside and saw the paramedics loading Aelin on the ambulance and another paramedic holding his daughter.

“Maya!” He screamed in desperation.

His daughter extended her arms to him and he took her in his embrace “I am here.”

“Mama hit a deer.”

Rowan stared at Ilias doing his job and pretended not to see the front of the car smashed against the wall of a house. It had been the owner who had alerted the firefighters after he heard the crash.

“It looks like she swerved to avoid the animal.” The captain pointed at the prints on the snow. “Paramedics say she is fine, just a concussion and likely some nasty bruises on her chest. The seatbelt did its job.”

Rowan nodded.

“You know the protocol, we need to take them to the hospital.” One of his paramedics took Maya back from his arms but the girl protested loudly and his heart broke.                

He tried to soothe Maya “Baby, I need you to go with the nice paramedic and your mum to the hospital. I am right behind.”

Maya held him tighter almost in panic.

The paramedic tried again to grab the girl “Come with me darling, your mum is asking for you.”

Rowan thanked silently the paramedic when Maya followed him inside.

The ambulance drove away and he turned to Ilias “Was she conscious when you got here?”

The captain nodded and scoffed “yes, that woman is stubborn. She was trying to get herself out of the car.”

“Go with them chief, I got the scene, and a tow on its way. This is an easy MVA.”

While on the road he had called Aelin’s parents and by the time he arrived at the hospital, they were just entering the A&E. He called Rhoe’s name.

“Rowan!” Evalin walked to him with terror etched on her face “What happened?”

“Aelin and Maya were coming to stay with you,” he confessed not hiding his shame. He hadn’t been hard enough in trying to convince her not to leave “We had a fight. I begged her not to leave so late in the evening and with all the snow.”

“Aelin did not listen.” Added Rhoe deadpanned, surprising him.

“A deer cut in front of her and she just swerved to avoid it and crashed.”

Evalin gasped in horror.

“They are fine. One of my captains called me at the scene, Aelin was awake and Maya is just scared. Aelin apparently fought the firefighters trying to get out of the car.”

“I am sorry, she inherited the stubbornness from me.” 

“Rhoe!” Added Evalin shocked at her husband jokes.

“Ev, Aelin has been pigheaded since the day she was born.”

Rowan smiled and then walked to the nurses station “Hi Sorscha, any news on Aelin and Maya?”

The woman checked “Med bay 5, the doctor is with her. Maya has been taken to paediatrics for a check up.”

He let Rhoe and Evalin go and talk with Aelin’s doctor while he rushed to Maya. The hospital was a maze and it took him a good ten minutes to reach the ward.

“Maya Galathynius?” he asked with apprehension.

“Any relation?”

“I am the father.”

The nurse let him go and in the distance he saw her on a bed holding elf in her arms. A nurse was sitting with her and was offering her a juice box.

“Dad!” She screamed as soon as she spotted him. In two quick steps Rowan was at her side and enveloped her in his arms. He then looked at the nurse.

“She is fine. We did a lot of checks but she is absolutely fine. Aren’t you Maya?”

Maya snuggled closer to her father “Is mama okay?”

He kissed her head tenderly “as soon as the doctor gives me your discharge papers I will take you to see her. Mum is fine.”

“And the deer?”

“Okay too.”

Ten minutes later a doctor came in the room and explained the checks they had done and all was was clear. Rowan grabbed the papers and lifted Maya back in his arms.

In the A&E, the Galathynius were still with Aelin. 

At the open door he walked in and then to the bed “See Maya? Mum is fine.”

Aelin extended her arms and her daughter climbed from parent to parent.

He stood behind, following the scene from his corner until Evalin pulled him closer “Go to her, Rhoe and I will take Maya for a bit. You two need space.”

Rowan stared at Evalin in shock and the woman nodded to him almost in encouragement.

Slowly he moved to the bed and as he got closer he scanned Aelin for any sign of grave injury, but all he found was a plaster on her forehead. She was sitting in bed and as soon as she spotted him, Aelin extended her hand to him.

Rowan sat at her side and accepted her hand “I am sorry,” she whispered.

Rowan was about to protest but she stopped him “no, I need to get this out,” she added quickly “I am sorry. I was mad at you for all the wrong reasons,” she confessed “What I said to you was horrible. I have been so used to be just the two of us. I made all the decisions, I provided for her and when you told me about the classes I felt as if all of a sudden I was not capable anymore to look after her.” Rowan was again ready to talk but Aelin placed a finger on his lips “And I have been so damn wrong to be jealous of you. I had a look at the courses but I could not find anything that I liked. You did and I wished it had been me.” Her hand caressed his face in a gentle touch “Rowan, in a very short time you have proved to be a great dad for her. She loves you so much,” tears started to flow on her cheeks “And I am so bloody stubborn that I put us in danger. And I am sorry,” another caress “I am sorry that I doubted you or made things hard for you. Having you back after all this time, it caught me off guard. I was so scared, Rowan.”

He moved closer, his arms sneaked behind her back and pulled Aelin to his chest “When you left tonight I felt like a failure. I was so eager to be a father that I just went ahead like a bulldozer and did not consult you.” He closed his eyes and his cheek leaned on the top of her head “I want to be worthy of being her dad and of you. I want to be so damn worthy of you both, Aelin.”

They looked at each other and their foreheads touched. Aelin’s hand cupped his cheek and something moved in her chest. Something old. A thread she thought had snapped was now floating in front of her begging to be reconnected to its other half “You are, and Maya and I are so lucky to have you.”

“How is she?”

Rowan chuckled “She already charmed the nurses and managed to get a juice box from them. Docs says she is all okay.”

Aelin shifted and leaned her head on his shoulder while he kept holding her “Can Maya and I come back home?”

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him and nodded.

Rowan stared in her blue eyes and slowly felt as if all the messy feelings he had been experiencing lately had started to shuffle back in order. Some of the old feelings had started to resurface, but he had to keep them at bay. They had to work first on making sure Maya was okay. They had done enough damage. Their daughter had priority over their feelings.

“We love your house.”

“Okay but,” Aelin tried to protest but this time it was his turn to shush her “Tomorrow you stay at home. The concussion was very light, but you will be sore from the seat belts. Maya is home from school for the holidays and if you need help I am sure your mum will be delighted to look after you both.”

“Yes, chief.”

“I should have never let you go out.”

She kissed his cheek “You tried. I am stubborn, remember?” She then hid her face in his chest “I destroyed your car. I will find a way to pay you back.”

“Nonsense. I am glad you at least took mine. It has a very reinforced front. It’s meant for off track and other extreme road conditions. Nothing a good garage cannot fix and I also have something called insurance.” He thought about what could have happened if she had gone with her car. He kissed her head “Stay with me and that’s your way to pay me back.”

“I think I can do that.”

Aelin looked up and moved closer. So much that they were sharing their breaths. She was about to brush her lips on his when the scream of her name pulled her back.

Evalin and Rhoe entered the room with an excited Maya holding a lollipop.

“Mama!!”

Rowan helped Maya climb on the bed and gave them some space while he went to the grandparents.

Rhoe passed him some papers “Aelin’s discharge papers. I assume you are taking your two girls home?”

He nodded “Good,” added Rhoe, patting his shoulder. Rhoe went back to Aelin and Maya and Rowan remained with Evalin.

“Fight for them Rowan. Do not let an argument ruin everything. They are your family and they love you.” She gave him a hug “Rhoe and I are rooting for the three of you.”

Twenty minutes later he was walking out of the hospital with a still an achey Aelin and Maya in his hand. He was afraid that Maya might refuse to get in the car but the girl allowed him to strap her in. He passed Elf and hoped she was fine until home. 

On the passenger seat Aelin was struggling to fasten her seat belt. She was sore and movements were hard. Rowan went to her and fastened the belt “Will you be okay?”

She nodded “You are a really good driver and can deal with these roads better than me.”

He left the car park “Who wants ice cream?”

Both women screamed excited so when he was closer to home he made a stop at his local shop down in the village and bought a few types of ice cream.

Back at home Aelin made to grab her duffel bag but Rowan stopped her. “Wait on the porch while I free the hurricane.”

Aelin sat on the chair outside and stared at her daughter following happily her dad. Taking Maya away even if for just two days would have been a grave mistake and fate had punished her for that. Seeing her daughter happy with her dad was all she needed.

“Let’s go in.”

Rowan pushed Aelin on the bench inside the lobby and she protested when he kneeled to remove her shoes “If you can bend to take them off, be my guest.”

Aelin tried and gritted her teeth but gave up when her body screamed and let Rowan take her boots off.

“Dada, my shoes are off.”

He helped Aelin up “Ok, upstairs, pyjama and ice cream.”

Aelin leaned on him as they climbed to the upper floor and Maya followed. She then disappeared in her room while Rowan accompanied Aelin in hers.

“Do you have a pyjama?”

She shook her head “I have been using your t-shirts, they are cozy.”

Rowan chuckled “Oh so you are the thief.” He went to his room and came back with a big TFD 

t-shirt “This should be okay too.”

She tried to remove her clothes but every movement was causing her blinding pain “Can I?”

Aelin blushed. They had seen naked plenty of times but now it was different between them.

Between curses she managed to pull away her hoodie and then the t-shirt and that’s when Rowan gasped. Her chest sported a nasty purple bruise from left to right and a really nasty scratch on her neck that the doctors had covered with a bandage.

“Is your neck okay?”

“Stiff.”

“Okay, we need to keep an eyes for signs of whiplash.”

Maya burst in the room not long after. Elf pyjama on, and soft toys under each arms “I am ready for ice cream!”

Rowan lifted her in bed “Stay here one second while I help you mum get changed.” The girl crawled under the blankets with her friends and waited.

Once ready, Aelin shuffled under the blankets with her daughter and both waited for ice cream.

Rowan came back twenty minutes later all changed too and with a tray with the cups full of ice cream. The really chocolaty ones were for his two girls whereas he had opted for the fruity ones.

“Ae, take these, the doctor prescribed them, should help with pain.”

Obediently Aelin took her meds and then Rowan allowed them to have ice cream in bed.

He sat in the chair he had carried from Maya’s room and while they ate he told them stories of princesses and knights until they both fell asleep.

Rowan tucked both of them in bed and then sent a silent prayer to Mala to always look after them. 

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[smutinlove]

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʙᴜʀɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ—ᴄᴀʀʟ ɢʀɪᴍᴇꜱ—ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ four: a secret

Chapter Three: Solitude

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Carl's bed croaked. It made Mae's ears ring. "Mae, is that you?" asked a hoarse voice. "No, I'm a fucking murderer," she retorted. Carl laughed. "You suck, man." He sat up. Mae looked at him intensely. She observed his features.

Carl's face was slightly freckled; he had the prettiest blue eye, which complemented his dark brown hair. He looked a bit intimidating, but he was actually a sweetheart. He was brave and kind. But what Mae couldn't put together was how such a beautiful soul covered his left eye with a bandage.

"Carl?"

"Yeah, idiot?"

"Why do you cover your eye with a bandage?" Mae asked. Carl gulped. He looked away from Mae, feeling embarrassed. "Well, I guess that's a story for another time. Now, what about you? Why are you awake?" he asked, trying to avoid the earlier question.

Mae sighed. "I keep thinking about my old life, back in England. But all I think about are the bad memories. I can't remember the good ones." Carl nodded. He understood her feelings.

"You know, my mom me told something a few years ago when I had a bad dream: 'Dreams can last ten minutes, but nightmares last forever, but only if you let them.' And I think you should know that too." Carl gave his sweetest smile.

"Thank you, Carl." The boy grinned. Mae rolled her eyes. "Alright, enough of your inspiring quotes; let's fucking sleep, Jackass." Carl rolled his eyes. He took one last look at Mae before letting himself fall back to sleep.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Carl yawned and groaned. He didn't expect to be awoken by Mae last night, but he was fine with it. It was nice talking to someone other than his annoying little sister or his parents. He was lost in thought, to the point where he didn't hear the door open. There stood a young brunette with a cheeky grin on her face.

"I fucking knew it! Wait 'til Mom hears about this."

"Judith, listen, we can talk this out. Please," Carl begged. "Talk about YOUR GIRLFRIEND?" She yelled.

"Judith, you little-" Carl noticed someone rising awake. It was none other than his favorite British girl. She yawned. "Stop yelling, Carlie." Mae groaned.

Judith looked at the two and laughed. "Me and your girlfriend might get along. Anyway, I won't tell Mom and Dad. I also can't. They went out to do some shopping."

"She's not my girlfriend, you idiot!" Carl yelled, completely disregarding the fact that his parents weren't home.

While the two siblings continued arguing, Mae froze. It was Judith Grimes, who was probably the child of Shane, Carl's father's best friend. Mae felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to scream, cry, and throw up all at the same time.

"Oh, she's awake!" Judith yelled. Mae tilted her head. Judith looked like Shane. Judith wasn't really Carl's sister. Carl and Judith were half-siblings. (At least that's what Mae thought.)

"Mae, are you feeling okay?" Carl asked. "What? Yeah. I'm doing great," Mae replied with a soft smile. "You're so pretty," Judith squealed.

Mae didn't know how to react to that. In her head, she didn't want to. But in her heart, she had to. "Thank you so much." Judith grinned.

"You got yourself a pretty one," Judith whispered into Carl's ear. Carl smiled. "Yeah, she is." Judith caught Carl staring at Mae for a little too long and grinned.

Mae looked at Judith and then came to a realization. Why was she so afraid of Shane? And Mae wasn't even sure if Judith was Shane's daughter or if Carl's mom had cheated on Carl's father. It wasn't Mae's business, and she knew that.

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of war and the character's grandson fighting in it, the possibility of him having been killed in action and his parents' grief because of it, also caused by the fact that he is their only child, a President's assassination, a presumed suicide having happened that same day, the possibility of that death having been a murder and a witness coming forward to talk about it after fourty years.

•This fanfiction is a History AU inspired by my favourite episode of the TV show "Cold case", "Boy crazy".

•For the sake of the story, the members of the team are all around the same age, they don't have the same age differences as they do in the actual show. Most of them are also just friends and (for a part of the story) schoolmates, not co-workers, and none of them works for the FBI or even the police or anything like that.

•None of the member of the team lived in Washington either when they were young. In 2003, the most recent year the story takes place in, they are all scattered around the United States, but most of them (not David) were born and raised in Lancaster City (Pennsylvania). You will understand why I made this decision as you read the story. And no one is the same age as they were in the actual show, also for the sake of the story.

•And yes, I made Erin and Rossi a married couple with all their children alive, making her three children his too and his two kids hers too, to avoid all that mess with David's divorces and all that.

•Spencer will be 12 years old and in his first year of high school because he is a genius and skipped some grades, but just two, not as many as he did in the series. I couldn’t bring myself to make him a 9-year-old in highschool maybe. Sorry.

•The story's title, instead, is similar to the one I found in a titles-themed Wattpad story. I asked for permission from the story's author to use it, though.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @achillmango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @cancersunthatsit, @strangermoonlove, @myastronomicallife.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 1: New information on an old case

When they were woken up by the sound of David's phone ringing at 6 am on June 12, 2003, the first thing both 80-year-old David Rossi and his 78-year-old wife Erin thought of was their 23-year-old grandson Samuel, who was a soldier and fighting in Iraq at that moment.

Had he been killed?

If he had, they needed to answer the phone and maybe even go to their daughter Nancy and son-in-law Michael's house immediately.

Even for Dave and Erin, who had five kids, the mere thought of losing one of them was heart-shattering, but if Samuel had actually passed away, Michael and Nancy would have to bury their only child.

The pain of that would have been unbearable and they had to be there and support them.

Fortunately, however, when David grabbed his phone and looked at the display, he didn't see their daughter or son-in-law's name on it.

Instead, there was an unknown number, and while the man would have usually rejected a call like that, something inside him told him that one was important, so he got out of bed as quickly as he could and left the room to answer.

And about ten minutes later, he walked back into his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.

"Who was it? What's going on?" Erin, who had gotten out of bed too by that time, immediately questioned.

"It was a man named Matthew Benton. He asked if he could meet me at a bar in our city tomorrow. He apparently has new information on the death of Emily Prentiss. Obviously, I said yes. We are meeting at 3 pm tomorrow" her husband replied, feeling and sounding more excited than he had been in a pretty long time.

"Who?" Erin asked at first, but a few seconds later, she remembered.

"Oh, yes, that 18-year-old girl who committed suicide in Pennsylvania on the day President Kennedy died! I remember now. You were obsessed with that case for weeks right after it happened" the woman added, feeling even more interested in that conversation by then.

Even after fourty years, she still remembered that case almost perfectly, but most importantly, she was certain she already knew what her husband was thinking at that moment.

"You already know I don't think it was a suicide, Honey. I never thought it was, and maybe tomorrow I'll find out I am right" Dave explained, already feeling sure he would have discovered he had been right all along the next day.

"And then what? Even if your theory was correct, you are not a policeman, David, just a crime writer, and you haven't written anything in fifteen years" Erin retorted, not to tear the man down, but to bring him back to reality in her opinion.

"And then I'll tell the police what I discovered, that poor girl will finally have the justice she deserves and her mother and son will get to know the truth about how she died" Dave responded, and at that, all his wife could do was smile.

When David put his mind to something, there was no stopping him from achieving it, and while that had caused even heated arguments between them several times in their fifty-eight years of marriage, that day Erin felt extremely proud of him because of it.

Whatever had happened to Emily Prentiss on November 22, 1963, her husband would have soon discovered it.

She had no doubt about that.