#im very proud of myself for handling them calmly now

[0xo]

good golly i just got startled by a fucking nother one and i killed it. i didn't even scream even though i really really really wanted to (my wife is asleep two feet away from where i found it) but i Got It very calmly and didn't even cry.

just got jumpscared by a brown recluse and you best believe i killed that thing immediately

[jougogo]

tsukki, iwa, daichi, kuroo, sakusa, akaashi, and shibayam with an s/o who’s afraid of needles getting a flu shot

a/n: wrote this in honor of me getting of me getting my flu shot yesterday and NOT CRYING FOR THE FIRST TIME WOW WE LOVE GROWTH

characters: tsukishima kei, hajime iwaizumi, sawamura daichi, kuroo tetsuro, sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, shibayama yuuki

tw: mentions of needles

tsukishima

"kei, i don't like needles," you whined

"well, you still have to get them. are you really this weak? i thought you were stronger," he responded nonchalantly

ok that pissed you off

"HMPHH I'LL PROVE IT TO YOU" 

but once you were on the seat with the shiny syringe right in front of you?

all that confidence was g o n e 

"remember, you said you'd prove it to me." he smirked

you gulped and shut your eyes tightly

you could've sworn you felt his hand rest on your thigh as the shot was administered

you don't know what you were expecting, but the sting was only momentary and within a couple seconds, you were finished.

"ouch." you quietly yelped.

"see, you were just being a dramatic. tsk, weakling," he flicked your forehead

nurse looked kinda concerned ngl

but afterwards he'll carry your bags for you and open the doors bc he's proud

"good job, my weakling,"

"tsukki istg"

iwaizumi

iwa knew about your fear of needles

he found out when he noticed you grip the pushpin tightly between your fingers everytime you have to pin sticky notes to the corkboard you had above your desk

so when it was flu shot season, he'll def volunteer to get it done together w you

iwa bby being such a gentlemen gahh i cant

i can see oikawa as someone who was prob also afraid of needles, so iwa knew how to handle situations like this

"iwa-chan but they're pricking my arm and i'm gonna be numb how am i going to practice volley-"

 b o n k 

"get over it brattykawa"

jkjk he'll be so gentle and patient with you

"hey hey it's okay, dont look at the needle. look at me" he turned your face towards his, cupping your cheek to prevent you from seeing the syringe from your peripheral vision

you gazed into his pretty green eyes. 

oh, how they resembled a lush rainforest, full of tropical plants and-

before you could even realize it, the needle jabbed into your tender arm

"ouch," you groaned, leaning your head against his muscled chest.

"see, you did it!" he congratulated you, his lips curving into a small smile as he patted your head

he rolled up the sleevs of his t-shirt to reveal gloriously toned beefy biceps as the nurse administered his flu shot

ok this view is def worth the pain

as expected, he took it like a champ. manz didn't even tense up

afterwards he'll take you out for ice cream hehe

daichi 

when you confessed to daichi about your fear, he was so confused

"but i see you sewing stuff all the time?"

"dai that's different im not sticking the needle in my body bro"

ohhh ok ok now he gets it

he'll be so supportive the entire time!

"hey, i know you'll do great, okay? you're the bravest person i've ever met. you dont think a little thin piece of metal will get to you, do you baby?" he whispered reassuring words into your ear and brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face

when it was time for the nurse to give you the shot, you curled your body towards him ever-so-slightly

but he noticed and he thought it was the cutest thing

"hey, i'll protect you, don't worr-" he was cut off

you were gripped his shirt tightly in your fist and wincing at the pain

"ow ow ow" you mumbled into his shoulders as you felt the sting

"you're doing so good, sweetheart," he ran his hand up and down your back, attempting to sooth you

when it's all finally over he'll drive you over to his place so he can cuddle and "protect" you from the scary movie he very conveniently insisted on playing.

kuroo

"babe, you know you have to get your flu shot. what if you accidentally pass a deadly flu to my grandpa? you'd have to stop coming over to my house,"

your loving boyfriend kuroo was currently trying to get you to release your tight grip from the front door of your house

"i don't want to get your grandpa sick, but i don't want to have a needle poke me," you wailed, tears flowing down your cheek

he got tired and just carried you in his strong arms to the car and drove to the hospital, despite your protests

"THIS IS KIDNAPPING TETSU, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME," you screamed

he just whistled and rolled down the windows so everyone can hear

ofc, you shut up right then and there

"i'll get you back for this," you hissed

once you got to the hospital, you had no other choice but to oblige to kuroo as he dragged you through the halls to the vaccination rooms

the nurse was kind, but your heart was pounding

"te-tetsu, will you hold my hand" you whimpered when the nurse went to retrieve the tray

"of course, babygirl", he replied, putting his hands on top of your trembling ones

his large hands completely enveloped yours

when the nurse pricked the syringe into your arm, he squeezed your hands

"see, that wasn't too bad, right?"

"yeah, whatever" *sniffle sniffle*

also the type to take you for ice cream afterwards.

sakusa

"you may not come near me until you have received your flu shot," your beloved boyfriend declared

"omi omi but i need you. and also we were just cuddling this morning bruh" you pouted. "please please please will you come with me" *cue the puppy eyes*

"fine" he grunted. 

at the hospital he refuses to sit next to you, insisting that he stands def not bc he's concerned abt the germs on the seat

when you froze upon seeing the needle, he put one of his big hands on your shoulder

"you can hold my hand," 

"really?"

"don't make me take it back"

"okie"

you put your other hand on top of his, your arm draping across your body

his fingers intertwined around yours and clasped it when you winced at the pain

he'll draw you a bath when you get home and wash your body for you!!

so sweet and loving 10/10 experience

akaashi

you were currently hiding under a desk

specifically, the doctor's desk

"my love. it's no use if you hide, we're already here," akaashi sighed

he spent the last 2 hours dragging you to the nearest clinic for a flu shot

"you need to protect yourself so you don't get hurt," he had explained calmly

only for you, his sassy s/o to retort

"so why are you dragging me to a clinic just so i can get punctured by a needle? isn't that like, pain? which im supposed to protect myself from?"

someone help this poor bby boy

but somehow he had managed to lure you into the clinic

"alright. this is the last level i have to conquer. and then everything should be fine again" he thought to himself.

just the shot. just a lil pinch. right?

w r o n g

you were hysterical and sobbing

frankly, he felt really bad. but this had to happen at some point, right? after all, your fear of needles had started since you were a child. he was bound to have experienced something like this, as your dutiful boyfriend

he actually felt really bad

so he turned to the method that has worked for him time and time again to sooth his anxiety

"here, play with my fingers, it'll distract you" he reached out his hand to you and helped you out from under the desk

it worked!!

when the nurse came back, he rubbed the back of your hand,  a silent "im here for you"

definitely lots of comfort and cuddles afterward!

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

shibayama

the syringe was right in front of you and the nurse was currently disinfecting your arm with the alcohol wipe.

when he saw you tense up at the touch, he'll whisper lots of reassuring words into your ears 

"hey. you got this, i promise! it'll just be a little sting, and the pain is only temporary."

when he saw tears welling up in your eyes, he'll swipe them away with his thumb, caressing your cheeks.

"make me proud," 

how could you say no to his puppy eyes?? 

"i'll try, yuuki," you sniffled

he put his hand on your shoulder, gently drumming his fingers to the tune of your favorite song to help distract you

his other hand rubbing your palm

after everything's done, he'll give the bandaid little kisses!! 

awwww he's trying to kiss ur pain away my sweet baby

he wants you to know that even through pain, he'll be there by your side.

will take you out for ice cream pt.3

tags!!: @aka-a-shii (anna thank you for getting me into writing i hope i did akaashi justice), @toshisgarden (ily big sis mwah) @gigis-galaxy(bc ILY GIGI)

[freddiesaysalright]

Tale as Old As Time - Chapter 5

Rami!Prince Adam x Reader

Summary: A prince cursed. A young woman aching for adventure. The classic tale of seeing beauty within.

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @xviiarez​, @rogerina-owns-me​, @brianssixpence​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @queenmylovely​, @queen-paladin​, @hah0106​

A/N: The grand finale! Thanks to everyone who has supported and loved this story!

Warning(s): Mild descriptions of violence

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

When you arrived home, the windows of the house were dark, save your father’s bedroom. You released Dotty into the pasture and flew inside. You already heard your father coughing. 

“Papa!” you cried as you burst into his room.

Your father was lying in bed, barely conscious. He didn’t acknowledge your entrance. You went to his side and took his hand. His skin was as cold as ice.

“Papa?” you whispered, looking desperately at his tired face. “Papa, it’s me. I’m home.”

“Y/N?” came a voice from the doorway.

You looked up and saw Lyle standing there. He had a bowl of something steaming on a tray, but he nearly dropped it upon seeing you.

“Lyle!” you sighed gratefully. “Please, tell me what’s going on with my father.”

“I’m afraid it’s taken a turn for the worse,” he said. “It’s odd, since his sickness isn’t very aggressive. But it could be the stress of losing you and his confrontation with Victor.”

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

Lyle explained to you that after you left, and Paul returned, he had gone straight to the village, looking frantic. He ran into Victor, who decided at that moment to talk to Paul about the marriage. He gathered the whole town into the square and announced your engagement. But Paul retaliated. He publicly stated that he had not given his blessing to the marriage and did not approve of the match. Then he said you had been taken captive by some monster living in the old palace. He asked all the men to gather their weapons and follow him there to rescue you. Unfortunately, no one believed the story. 

“No one believed him?” you questioned.

Lyle raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, it’s not true, is it?”

“It is true!” you insisted. “Only, he’s not really a monster. He may look frightening, but he’d never hurt anybody.”

The pharmacist’s eyes went wide. “Y/N, you can’t be serious! You must realize how this sounds -”

“Well, then what do people think happened to me?” you wondered.

“They just thought you’d gotten lost,” he explained. “Victor told us you had gone to the big city. He led a search party for you, and they looked for weeks, but eventually, most of them assumed the worst. However, Victor has continued to look daily.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really going to marry him?” Lyle asked.

You shook your head. “No, I couldn’t now. Not when I…” you trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t love Victor and I’ve decided to end our engagement.”

“That’s a relief,” Lyle said. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You smiled at him. Afterward, Lyle told you to get some rest after your journey, and that he would keep an eye on your father. As you crawled into your bed, the difference was clear. This didn’t really feel like home anymore. You missed Rami and the castle now just as much as you’d missed your father when you were there. Your heart was torn in two.

Rami had given up on sleep. He remained sadly next to the rose, watching as the petals wilted and fell. He let out a soft whimper. He missed you so much already and it had only been a day. How did he expect to go on with his life now that he had known you? Now that he had lost you? It seemed impossible.

The next day, you woke and went to make yourself some breakfast. You opted for your preserves. Lyle emerged from your father’s room.

“How is he today?” you asked.

“Much the same,” Lyle said. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news, Y/N.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed, though you knew it was a lie. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

You opened the jar. Your father had already been into it, apparently, but you stopped and stared at it. They were grossly discolored. 

“That’s odd,” you said. “I made these to last all winter. This is a relatively fresh jar. How could it be spoiled already?”

Lyle shrugged. “It was your first try at it. Don’t be too upset you got one wrong.”

“I didn’t get it wrong,” you insisted. “I know I did everything right.”

“Y/N, don’t be stubborn, anyone could have made a mistake,” he replied.

You frowned at him, but he ignored you. You went to get a new jar and you used that instead. 

You and Lyle cared for your father all day. There was no improvement. You were suspicious of this rapid development of new symptoms. Symptoms he had never shown before. Fever, chills, nausea, and delirium. Paul would call for you as you stood beside him, completely unaware that you were home. He hardly noticed Lyle either. Another hopeless feeling came over you. For a distraction, you went to begin dinner. Lyle agreed to stay for the meal, since you were certain your father had no more money to pay him.

Just as you were placing the soup in front of Lyle, the front door opened. There stood Victor, who was taken aback by the sight of you.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, putting your hands on your hips.

“Y/N!” Victor cried, shifting into his normal, annoying disposition. “I’m so happy you’re safe and home! I was just coming to check on Paul.”

He started to cross the room - arms open - but you dodged the embrace. You doubted every word he said. Victor was vain and proud, and he would have no kindness toward someone who had humiliated him.  

“Victor, we need to talk,” you said. “I heard about what happened with my father, and I think we should clarify some things.”

His brow furrowed. “I...alright.”

You led him outside to spare Lyle the discomfort of having to witness your break up. Victor seemed agitated, like you’d just caught him in the middle of something. You pushed this observation to the back of your mind. Victor was almost always up to something.

“I agree that our engagement needs clarification, Y/N,” he began, resuming his usual air of arrogance. “Your father had everyone confused. Especially with all that talk of a beast.”

“Well, whether or not you believe in the beast doesn’t bother me,” you said. “My father was right. I’m not going to marry you.”

His eyes went wide. Something flashed behind them, so quickly you almost missed it. His whole face shifted. He looked dangerous.

“What?” he returned.

“I’m taking back my acceptance,” you said. “What I’ve learned these last few months being away is that I need to live my life for me. I won’t imprison myself by becoming your wife.”

He scowled. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you said assuredly, trying to conceal how frightened you were. 

He looked sharply away, releasing a low breath, before facing you again. 

“Who is he?” he questioned.

“Who is who?” you shot back.

“The other man, Y/N!” he shouted. “There’s someone else, I know it!”

“It’s no longer your concern, Victor!” you returned. 

A beat passed and you collected yourself. 

“Good day,” you said calmly, and started back inside.

You didn’t get very far. Victor snatched your wrist and yanked you back toward him. You yelped in surprise and the sudden pain from his twisting your arm. He grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free hand, and his nails scraped your scalp. You winced as he forced your face within inches of his own.

“You really were at the palace, weren’t you?” he said. “The beast your father spoke of is real, isn’t it?”

“Let me go,” you replied, struggling against his grip. 

“Isn’t it?!” he demanded.

Fear struck your heart. You had never seen such a wild, inhuman look in Victor’s eyes before. He was crazed.

“I - it’s true,” you admitted. 

He laughed a mirthless, empty laugh. “You are just pathetic. Don’t tell me you love this beast!”

“He’s not a beast, Victor!” you snapped, gaining courage for Rami. “He’s a prince!”

“A prince, is he?” he mocked. “Don’t be ridiculous. The prince was killed by the same monster that killed the king and queen.”

“The only monster I see is you!”

He glowered at you and brought your face close to his again. 

“I’ll have you for my wife, Y/N,” he spat. “And I will eliminate anyone who gets in my way.”

You felt his breath hot on your face.

“By the way, how’s your father been enjoying his breakfast?” he sneered. 

Your eyes went wide as a chill ran up your spine.

“You poisoned him?!” you gasped.

“I will eliminate anyone who gets in my way,” he repeated. “But I can see my methods with your father are far too time consuming. I will remove the beast much faster.”

He glanced at his sword.

“I won’t let you!” you cried, and tried once again to wrench yourself free. You could only wince as his grip tightened.

“You can’t stop me,” he said.

With that, he began to drag you toward the cellar. You fought fiercely against him, but he was too strong. He hurled you down into the darkness. You scrambled to your feet and tried to charge back up the stairs, but the cellar doors were slammed in your face. You heard him slide the wood through the handles to lock it.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you’ll live in the palace again when I buy it,” he said. “And you’ll remember who you really belong to with the beast’s head mounted on our wall.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. As Victor’s evil laughter died down and you heard him gallop away on his horse, your mind began working on ways to get out. You could call for help, but Lyle would not be able to hear you from the house. Your father made the cellar soundproof years ago so he would not disturb you while you read. This was the first time you had ever regretted it.

You put your hands in front of you and began to make your way slowly through the darkness. It was pitch black in the cellar, which only heightened your panic. You had to do something to get out. You had to reach Rami before Victor did.

Rami left his room for the first time since you left, that evening. He had no real destination in mind, but the sight of the rose was beginning to make him ill. It felt like looking at his own doom.

He found that a stroll around the castle didn’t help his gloomy mood. Everything now reminded him of you. He passed the library and peeked through the doors, half expecting to see you asleep at one of the tables. Only, it was empty. He went to the dining room and recalled the first time you had dined together after learning his name. It felt so quiet now without your voice. As he went past the ballroom where he had danced with you, just nights ago, a sharp pang hit his heart. With a low growl, he slammed the doors shut.

“Prince Rami?” asked Mrs. Carson. “I know you’re not alright, so I won’t ask that. But I will ask this - is there anything we can do for you?”

Rami shook his head. “Nothing matters now.”

She sighed and watched him walk on, heading back toward the west wing.

“Would you like to take a turn around the garden, sir?” she called after him, but he didn’t answer. “Prince Rami?”

He ignored her again and then disappeared down the corridor. She shook her head. As she turned to go back to her own room, she saw Daisy coming down the hall.

“Mrs. Carson, would it be alright if I went down to the village once a week?” she asked. “I know Y/N had to go, but I’d really like to continue my lessons with her. D’you think she’ll still have me?”

Mrs. Carson smiled. “Of course she would, Daisy. I think we can spare you once a week.”

“You don’t think the master will mind?” she wondered.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Carson assured her. “He wants you to learn, and he can eat sandwiches for his meals one day out of seven.”

Daisy beamed. “Could I go down to the village tonight? To check with Y/N?”

“Sure,” Mrs. Carson said. “You may take the guest horse down. But I’d suggest staying the night with Y/N if you can. It’ll be late by the time you get there.”

“Alright,” Daisy agreed. “Will you tell the master?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Carson!”

She took off down the hall. Mrs. Carson chuckled to herself. Perhaps Daisy would be a reason for you to return, if Rami was not enough.

The housekeeper continued her rounds. She was putting some linens away when she heard a scream from the main entrance of the castle. She jumped, dropping the linens, but took off in the direction of the cry. She was not far, and when she arrived moments later, she understood. Thomas was sprawled out by the front door, bleeding from his head. Anna was beside him, in tears.

“Oh, Mrs. Carson, look!” she cried. “Something awful has happened!”

Mrs. Carson knelt down and patted Thomas’s cheek.

“Thomas!” she said desperately. “Thomas, are you alright?”

Anna put her fingers to his neck. 

“He has a pulse,” she said. “So he’s alive, just knocked out.”

“But who would have done this?” Mrs. Carson wondered. 

“Look!” Anna gasped, and pointed to the tile floor. 

Mrs. Carson followed her finger and then she saw it. Large, dusty boot prints. 

“Someone’s here,” Mrs. Carson said grimly.

Anna gulped.

Rami was in his room when he heard Anna scream. He left there and headed toward the stairs to investigate. Only, he was brought to a halt when he saw someone he did not recognize standing in the hallway. His hackles rose and he started to growl.

“Who are you?” Rami demanded. “You’re not welcome here!”

The man was tall and handsome. And his clothes indicated he had some money. Not royalty money, but enough to afford finer fabrics. He swiftly unsheathed his sword and brandished it.

“I’m Y/N’s fiance,” the man said. “You will no longer terrorize this palace.”

Rami froze. Fiance? You had never mentioned a fiance - or any other man in your life besides your father. Since when were you engaged? 

“Fiance?” he questioned.

The man began to laugh. “My name is Victor Prouvaire, foul beast. For my dear Y/N’s honor….”

The man continued to speak, but Rami didn’t hear him. All he could feel was that his heart was impossibly more broken than when you left. He was suffocating all of a sudden. His eyes stung with fresh tears. You were engaged. To a handsome, strong, rich man.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t catch Victor charging at him. Rami quickly dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the stroke of Victor’s sword. Rami turned and ran back toward his room. 

Meanwhile, you were still locked in the cellar. The only thing you had managed to find was your father’s rubber mallet. You were whacking away at the doors, but the block holding them shut was stronger than the swing of your arm. You were already out of breath and sweating. 

“Come on!” you shouted as you gave it one more thwack.

Nothing happened. Exhausted you sank to your knees. 

“Oh, no,” you whispered to yourself. “Rami, I’m so sorry.”

You sat still for a moment, trying to think of any other solution or way out. Then you heard a slow clip clop of horses hooves. You thought at first that it was Victor, but the horse’s steps weren’t heavy enough to be his.

You only had one shot. You banged your fists against the door as hard as you could. 

“HEEEEEEELP!” you screamed. “HELP ME, PLEASE!”

“Y/N?”

The voice you heard could have knocked you off your feet with the relief it brought. 

“Daisy!” you cried. “Daisy, hurry, unlock the door!”

You heard the block slide out and then she tugged the doors up and open. You ran up the stairs and pulled her into the tightest hug you’d ever given anyone.

“Y/N, what’s happening?” she wondered. “Why were you locked in there?!”

“It’s a long story,” you said. “But we’ve got to get back to the palace as quick as we can, Rami’s in trouble.”

“W - what?!” she stammered. 

“There’s no time to explain, we’ve got to go now!” 

You quickly mounted her horse and helped her up behind you. She put her arms around your waist and you urged the horse forward. You galloped back into the woods with only one goal in mind - save Rami.

Rami was struggling to keep avoiding the swipe of Victor’s sword. He didn’t want to hurt Victor if he was someone you cared about, no matter how much it hurt Rami to think it.

Rami wanted to avoid his own room, so he led Victor into a guest room. There the struggle continued. Rami was dodging every stroke until he was backed against the window. Victor moved to lop Rami’s head off, but the prince ducked. Victor shattered the glass window, and Rami quickly jumped through it onto the balcony.

“What’s the matter, beast?” Victor taunted. “Too heartbroken to fight back?”

Rami didn’t answer. Mostly because it was true. He had no heart to fight. His heart was with you in the village. It would remain with you until his dying days.

“Did you really think she would love you?” Victor continued. “What woman could ever love you, when she could have me?”

Finally, Rami was backed up onto the railing of the balcony. He growled nervously. He had to make a move or risk falling to his death. With a snarl, he struck out with his paw. Victor had been drawing his sword back, so Rami hit him square in the jaw. Victor reeled back, and Rami moved to run past him back inside, but there was a crack of thunder. The sound caused Rami to lose his balance and he tumbled off the rail. 

He reacted quickly. He twisted around and snatched the rail in his paw. His hind legs just barely touched the roof of the room below. But rain began to spill from the heavy clouds above, making his grip on both things slippery. 

Victor got to his feet, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Oh, I’ve got you right where I want you now, beast,” he said. “Y/N is mine!”

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, lighting up Victor’s deranged face. He raised his sword over his head, preparing to deliver a devastating and deadly blow. Rami squeezed his eyes shut and thought only of you. If these were to be his last moments, he would remind himself of his dearest friend, and the only woman he ever loved.

“NO!” someone screamed.

Rami opened his eyes and looked up through the rain. You had cast yourself between him and Victor’s sword, and you were struggling with the man, pushing him back away from the balcony.

Rami took this moment to heave himself up. He was astonished to see you, but pleased. He was even more grateful that you were there to protect him. Victor dislodged himself from you and shoved you hard to the ground. Rami saw red and let out a roar as he threw himself at Victor. 

Victor, caught unaware by Rami, dropped his sword. You grabbed it and walked over to where Rami had Victor pinned to the floor. You pointed the sword at Victor’s throat.

“Get out,” you said. “You are never to come near me or Rami again, do you understand?”

“I understand,” Victor said reluctantly. 

You glanced at Rami. He met your gaze and nodded. He released Victor, who got to his feet. You hurled the sword over the balcony. Victor gasped when you did.

“You can’t use it to threaten anyone else,” you said. “Now leave us alone.”

Victor looked between you and Rami and with a huff, started to walk away. You and Rami only had eyes for each other.

“He said he was your fiance,” Rami began.

“He was,” you admitted. “But I called off the engagement.”

Rami took your hands in his paws and pressed them to his face. His warm, soft face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Is your father alright?” 

“He will be,” you said. “Once I tell the pharmacist to treat him for poisoning.”

“Y/N, are you seri -”

He was cut short when Victor appeared again, this time with a dagger, which he plunged right into Rami’s side. You let out a scream of horror as he howled and reared back, inadvertently taking Victor with him. Victor stumbled when Rami thrashed, and then the former hit the balcony rail. Fearing Rami would topple over it, you grabbed his arm and pulled him toward you. 

Victor, however, was not so fortunate. He slipped on the wet stones, went over the railing, and was not long or quick enough to recover and grab on to something. You heard his yell fade as he fell into the darkness.

You eased Rami down to the ground, cradling his head in your lap. His labored breathing frightened you.

“Easy, Rami,” you said soothingly. 

“I - I’m so happy you came back,” he panted. 

“Don’t talk now,” you replied gently. “Just hold on while I get you some help.”

You started to get up.

“No!” he protested, keeping you to him. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

You turned your head and shouted for Mrs. Carson, hoping she could hear you.

“Just hold on, Rami,” you went on.

“Y/N, I need to...I nee...there’s something I must tell you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” you returned, adjusting his jacket to cover him tighter. “You’ll have plenty of time to tell me.”

He shook his head. A lump appeared in your throat as your lower lip quivered.

“Rami, please,” you whimpered. “Don’t leave me. Please…”

He offered a weak, shaky smile. “I’m j-just happy I could see you...one more time…”

“Rami…” his name fell feebly from your lips.

“Y/N…” he breathed.

His eyes closed softly. His head slumped to his right. His chest stilled.

“Rami,” you said, clutching handfuls of his shirt. Tears slid down your cheeks. “Rami, don’t leave me.” 

You became frantic. “Rami, please! Please!”

You tried to shake him, but he was too large and too far gone. You didn’t hear Mrs. Carson, Anna, and Daisy approach - they had put Thomas to bed - and they watched you call for their master. Daisy clapped a hand over her mouth. Anna looked away. Mrs. Carson had tears down her own cheeks. 

“Rami,” you sobbed. “I love you.”

You rested your head on his chest and wept openly. It seemed impossible that you should lose him now when you had come so far. Rami had become your best friend and the love of your life. He saw you for who you were - as more than a pretty face. And you saw him for who he was - a kind, gentle, and generous prince. It couldn’t be true that he was gone.

“Girl,” said a smooth, sultry voice from above you.

You looked up and saw the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. She was gold and glowing. You might have mistaken her for an angel if the air around her didn’t suddenly feel dangerous.

“Do you speak truly when you say you love this creature?” she asked.

“He’s not a creature,” you returned defensively. “He’s a prince.” You paused to take a deep breath. “And the love of my life.”

The woman opened her hands and between them appeared the rose from Rami’s room. It had just one more petal. You watched with bated breath as it came loose and flitted down. The rose lost the pink hue around it. 

“The curse is broken,” she said. “Just in time.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, realizing who she was. The enchantress who had done this to Rami in the first place.

“You’re horrible,” you spat. “It’s not just in time. It’s much too late.”

She smirked at you and it sent a chill up your spine.

“Not quite, girl.”

The rose stem turned to bright pink dust in her hands. Then it all turned gold. The particles fell over Rami like fresh snow. They then sank into his fur. A soft glow began peeking through, as if coming from inside him, and his body began to rise off the ground. 

“Stand back,” the enchantress instructed you.

You hesitantly released your hold on Rami and got to your feet. Mrs. Carson  took your arm and pulled you over to them. All eyes were fixed on Rami’s slowly ascending form. The glow inside him grew brighter, and then beams of light emerged from all over him - his mouth, his eyes, the tips of his fingers and toes. You gasped as you watched his body contort and change with the movement of the light. His paws turned into human hands, his back legs turned to human ones, his shoulders shrunk and lost the hair, his face was completely engulfed in light. The wind picked up and then Rami was returning to the ground. He was smaller than before, and had lost his coat. He was a fully formed man.

He lay still for a moment on the ground, and you feared that it hadn’t worked. You were too frightened to approach. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when he finally stirred, pushed himself onto his knees, and then rose to his full height. He examined himself and a smile formed over his lips. He whipped around to face you.

“Y/N?” he questioned.

He was so handsome. He had smooth skin. A strong jaw. Thick, curly, dark hair that reminded you a lot of the fur you had become so familiar with. His body was lean and healthy. He looked like a hero to you.

Mrs. Carson gave you a nudge toward him. You inched over.

“Y/N, it’s me,” he said, holding out his hand.

With a full stride, you came closer, reaching out for him as well. When your hands clasped, you felt his warm skin for the first time. He pulled you slowly forward until you were face to face.

“Rami?”

He looked deeply into your eyes and nodded. Those beautiful eyes you had come to know were there. You saw behind them the Rami you loved.

“It really is you!” you cried.

You threw yourself into his arms. He spun you around and you laughed together in celebration. Your heart felt so light, it could have floated right out of your chest. When he set you down, he cupped your face in his hands.

“I love you,” you said again.

“I love you more,” he returned.

With that, he kissed you. A passionate, jubilant, true love’s kiss. Neither of you noticed the enchantress disappear from the balcony. Daisy, Anna, and Mrs. Carson were all dabbing their eyes.

“Mrs. Carson, are they going to live happily ever after?” Daisy asked.

“I believe so,” Mrs. Carson sniffled.

You and Rami giggled at each other, cheeks aching from all the smiling. Then, you kissed your handsome prince once more. As you would do for the rest of your days.

***

With Rami returned to himself, you went to the village to get your father. Rami paid for him to be treated, and cured, with a doctor coming to check on him periodically to be sure. The villagers were thrilled to have their prince. Many people came to work at the palace, including Elaine, who had taken to Daisy. You and Rami married as soon as you could. It was a grand and beautiful affair. And Daisy was right. You lived happily ever after.

~The End~

[ranposlittle]

Hey! I have a request! Could you do a Poe x Shy Poet reader? The reader insecure of themselves and their work but one day decided to share their work with Poe , and how tries to make them feel better about their work? (If you need some poetry for the reader I’ve wrote some poems I can give you one! Even tho I’m also insecure about my work) Sfw but fluffy please!

Genre: SFW, Fluff

Tags: Confession, Comfort

A/N: Here it is, poe-is-bean! I hope the fluff is enough and you find it worth the looong wait. Thank you so much for sharing your own poems to me (theyre great) and I hope I did them some justice ;-; ENJOYYY~ ٩( ๑^ ꇴ^)۶

((EDIT!!! idk if the read more break can be seen on mobile but when i was editing, there's a break after the ask & idk how to fix it so im so sorry aaa))

***

The room is so empty

I can hear my own heartbeat

Day and Night

The sound of pencil on paper

It echos

I just want someone to talk to

Someone to hold me close

To make the room feel less empty

The words faded on the white paper as the ink on your pen ran out. You clicked your tongue and sighed as you look around the park you're sitting at. Just the cherry on top of your already dismal day, you thought.

It was a cloudy day but you squinted at the harsh light of the sun peeking slightly through the wispy clouds. You leaned back on the warm bench and closed your tired eyes. You slowly inhaled the delicious summer air but your chest feels as hollow as the tube of ink inside your pen.

"Karl! No!"

A voice suddenly rang from somewhere near and as you sluggishly open your eyes to peek, something heavy and fuzzy landed on your lap, causing you to shriek and jump from your seat. Your heart raced from the surprise, but as you quickly realized that it was just a raccoon who got attracted by the leftover peanuts you have on your side, you heaved a sigh of relief.

"No! Stop that!" A man with messy hair and an outfit that's undoubtedly too hot for the weather rushed to you. His eyes are barely visible through his dark overgrown hair but it wasn't able to hide the handsome features beneath.

"It-it's okay," you said shyly, mentally hitting yourself for stuttering. "He can have it. I don't mind."

"I really do apologize," the unknown man said, his voice low and trembling. He scratch his temple in embarrassment. "Karl is just crazy for peanuts lately."

You just gave him a meek smile and fiddled with the notebook on your lap. You thought about how cute it is that he has a pet raccoon, how cute it is that he named it with such a humanly name, and how cute he is.

Wait, what.

Heat rushed from your body and up to your face, feeling foolish for having such a thought with someone you just met. You hunched to hide your face, fearing the stranger would see the blush covering your cheeks.

"Can I sit with you?" He asked, snapping you away from your thoughts. "M-my name is Edgar, by the way. Edgar Allan Poe."

Your eyes traveled up his slender form. Despite his dark clothing, his timid and humble appearance made it easier for you to let him enter into your space. He thanked you and asked for your name in return. And just like that, your otherwise usual and grey day became colorful like the evening sky as you sat there beside him, familiarizing yourselves with each other while the innocent racoon eat the rest of the stale peanuts on the bench.

Is this a dream?

Is it real?

He was so close

Yet so far

We sat together for hours

The time was ours

But now it’s not

It slipped away

So quickly

Birds chirped around you as you looked up from your writing, searching through your surroundings and hoping to see the stranger once again. The more hours that passed, the more that you're starting to believe that it was just all somehow a vivid hallucination. You sighed in defeat and eyed another blank spot on your notebook. You thought about writing another poem about how sometimes, it's better to stay in an illusion than face reality because at least in your daydreams, wonderful things happen.

You pressed the tip of your pen on the paper to write the first letter of your work when all of a sudden, the ink bled all over the page, causing you to spat a curse under your breath. You quickly handled the situation, making sure that your clothes and the rest of your notbeook isn't affected by another one of your daily misfortunes. You groaned and pulled out the wipes out of your bag, aggressively wiping the stubborn ink blots on your hand.

"Um, are you okay, (Y/N)?"

You glared up to the quiet voice that called out your name. The tightness of your facial muscles from frowning slowly loosening up as you recognize the figure in front of you.

Poe's tall physique shaded you from the blazing sun and from where you are sitting, he looked just like a dream; a mirage that manifested out of your imagination and into your reality.

"I'm... I'm okay," you mumbled. Your heart thumped heavily against your ribcages as you remain frozen, your wide eyes glued to him as if you're scared that he'll disappear if you blink.

He flashed you a bright smile and gingerly sat beside you. Poe eyed the notebook on your lap and saw the familiar structure of the words on it.

"You write poems?" He asked with excitement evident on his voice, pulling you back to the ground. As Poe reached out to have a closer look with the item, you swiftly pulled away.

"Don't!" You exclaimed. The volume of your voice made nearby passerbys turn their heads on your direction and Karl critter on Poe's shoulder as if by surprise, too.

Poe was taken aback by your reaction as well but being a creator himself, he quickly understand that there is a certain reservation an artist have with its works. He understands the insecurity of being not good enough or questioning yourself as to why are you even trying when there's always someone out there that can do better than you. He knows the feeling very well.

"I'm sorry," he said calmly. "I know an artist's works are always very personal. I shouldn't have intruded."

Guilt spilled all over you and spread a bitter taste on your mouth. "I'm sorry, too," you sighed after a while. "I'm just not ready to show it to anyone yet. It's not your fault."

"I understand. I am a writer myself," Poe said with a gentle smile. "However, if the time has come when you've finally found the courage within you to be proud of yourself and your creations as an extension of yourself, it'll be my pleasure if you'll have me as the first person that would ever lay eyes on it."

Poe's words echoed to the deepest parts of your being. You felt bare to the bones, like everything that you've tried so hard to hide is just somehow exposed for him to see. Gone was his timid character and he's now exuding confidence; a sense of sureness in everything that can only come to people who has been through the ringer and survived to be an inspiration. Your eyes glistened to see another layer of his natural mystique unfold in front of you. Right then, you were filled with the hunger to know more, to uncover more, and to see more of his fascinating self.

Karl climbed down from Poe's shoulder, searched for something on his layered clothes and ran to your lap with an object wedged between his pointy mouth.

"It's a gift," Poe explained when Karl dropped an expensive looking pen in front of you. "I hope you never stop creating, despite of life's minor inconveniences."

"Would you meet me here again tomorrow?" You asked without you even realizing that you were speaking aloud and feeling the weight of your question only after it's done.

Poe tensed up on his seat. Your question was unexpected and it made his own heart raced for a reason he can't quite explain. However, seeing your eyes looking more alive than when he first met you delighted him and he gave you a humble smile.

"Karl has an appointment with the vet tomorrow," he said with his usual gentle voice. "But we can meet at the cafe nearby after."

Your heart soared way above the cloudless sky that day as a big smile stretched your lips and you felt like you haven't smiled like this for a while now. You accepted his invitation and noted the place and time on your notebook. For the first time in a long time, you felt thankful. You thank yourself for being able to push the words out, albeit almost unconsciously, and you thanked life. Despite the mishaps and blunders it brings you everyday, it gave you the opportunity to meet someone. A someone who made you look at everything in beautiful colors you don't even see before. You view everything so differently now; everything including yourself.

Months have passed since that fateful day and you still can vividly remember how your world shifted from then on like it was just yesterday. You meet Poe with any spare time you have and with every moment you spent with him, you got to know all of the layers of his being and in return, he got to know yours. You felt like you're rediscovering yourself as you open up to him. You felt freer. As time went on, a certain feeling crept up on you. It was a strange but awfully familiar feeling that sits inside your chest, like an everlasting bonfire that warms you up from inside out.

The paperback cover of the notebook crunched as you gripped on it tightly. Your mind is foggy with nervousness and immediately doubting if you've made the right decision to finally show him your poems. You shifted on the same bench you sat the first time that you've met and you waited for Poe, all kinds of imaginary scenarios playing in your head in the meantime.

"Hey, (Y/N)!"

You finally heard his familiar voice, a sound that no music can compare to. He was cheerily waving at you, you waved back and nervously greeted him. You laid peanuts on the bench for Karl and he happily hopped off of Poe's back to get on his treats.

"So, you've finally found your courage, huh?" He said before sitting down on his usual spot beside you. "I'm really proud of you, (Y/N). I know it wasn't easy. This is a big step for you and I want to thank you for choosing me."

Your anxiety dissipated in a snap. The flames on your heart grew bigger and brighter with his encouraging words. This tender moment solified your suspicion; you're absolutely, undoubtedly, sincerely in love with him.

"No, Poe," you replied, "I should be the one thanking you. You're the one who showed me that I have that courage inside me in the first place. I can't even begin to explain how you've changed my life."

"Well, that's what art is for, isn't it? To help us express what our words can't," Poe said, his warm smile never leaving his lips. "Besides, my words wouldn't mean anything if you didn't made the decision yourself. It's all you, (Y/N). Give yourself more credit, won't you?"

You beamed at him, the fluttering feeling on your chest continue to grow and filled every part of your being where you used to feel hollow. Your fears disappeared and you handed him your notebook like you're handing him your heart. Poe reached out for it, handling it as gently as you would a china doll.

You sighed contently and gaze at the clear sky above you as you let Poe flip through the pages of your notebook like you're letting him flip through the pages of your life. Every experience you've went through, every emotions, every secret thoughts and desires and everything that lead up to the person you are now; all of them contained in a single book.

Karl muched on the last peanut you laid out for him as Poe reached the last poem.

 Love, what a beautiful thing

It makes my heart flutter

No matter how much I mutter

I always stutter

Those simple words

It races when he’s near

And falls when he’s far

Why can’t I tell him?

Poe's concealed eyes widened and his racing heartbeat vibrated on his whole body. He knows it's an absurd thought to assume the poem is about him but somehow, he was certain that it was. He thought that perhaps it's just wishful thinking brought by his delirious affection he's been hiding from you for a time now.

"You're really promising, (Y/N)," his voice wobbled as he said your name and he cleared his throat as he tried to give you a more constructive feedback. "I can really feel the emotions on your works. Every artist has their own way of making art and you shouldn't feel insecure with how you choose to express yourself. Art isn't about pleasing other people, it's only about you. If you're confident with yourself and your work, other people will reflect that. All you have to do is to stay true to yourself. And as far as I know, you are capable of making more beautiful poems, because you're beautiful."

The distant sounds of people and animals in the busy park rang as the both of you froze on your spots, equally taken aback by Poe's compliment.

"I–I–I mean, you're a great person, that's all," Poe stammered, full of worry for his well-kept secret.

You turned your blushing face away from him and chewed on your lips. Thoughts on whether you should finally admit to him your feelings rushed through your mind. Karl, finished with his snack, climbed on your lap and looked at you as if he's conveying a message. You know that he's probably just asking if you have any more peanuts for him but at that moment, you took it as an encouragement for you to tell him about the nagging feeling inside you that occupies every corner of your mind.

"The last poem," you told Poe while looking at the ground, "I wrote it for you."

Poe once again picked up the notebook, turned it on the last entry and re-read it. He felt like he's being choked out of air as he drowned on the exuberant joy he's feeling as he realized what you meant. His head whipped at your direction, looking at your fidgeting form and felt an urge.

He moved closer to you and gently called out your name. When you turn your head to face him, he reached out and touched your cheek. His finger traced along your jawline and ended on your chin. Although his eyes are barely visible, you can see the solemnity of his gaze and your heart skipped a beat.

"I feel the same way, (Y/N)," Poe confessed as his thumb caressed your lower lip.

You were happy. You were happier than you've ever been in your entire life and yet, your eyes strained as tears threatened to fall. You smiled at Poe and slowly closed your eyes, giving him the permission his gentle touches are asking.

Poe's lips closed in on yours and the rest of the world was quiet as you return his kiss, letting your feelings unravel and tangle against each other. Everything felt right, like every puzzle piece has been put in their place and the picture is complete. You felt the satisfaction, the pleasure, the joy and the pride. You finally understood why there are so many stories, poems, songs and artworks about love. It's just one of those things that can only be truly explained through art. One thing is certain in your head now: love, it is truly such a beautiful thing.

[chlodani]

This is my next smau. It's a Harry Potter smau. Neville X F.!Reader pairing. There's a bit of Fred X F.!Reader pairing in here. There's also Neville X Fred X F.!Reader. Title:A Muggle's Love Story

Trigger warning: Slight swearing! Mentions of sex! Will be mentions of rape! Slight abuse! If you are sensitive to these things read at your own risk!

Y/n was a muggle brought into the world of magic, at a very young age. She didn't know how to handle it. And with her older sister, her guardian being the only one who could take care of her, it proved to be difficult for her with her sister being the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, and her having to live in the world of magic. She feels a little left out, seeing as both her sisters, her older and her younger, - her twin - are wizards and she is not. But that all disappears when she meets the one person who helped her realize not everything is about that. And it's not all its cracked up to be. Neville was there for her since she was young and they became the best of friends. However, as they got older they realized their feelings were more for each other than they even orginally thought. But what happens when Neville finally has the courage and another man tries to swoop in and take him from her?

End Special Edition Part 18. . .

Part 19 Coming soon. . .

Adelina's P.O.V.

I walked to the spot I've wanted to forget about for years. The spot I knew he'd be. I knew he was waiting for me. And I knew what he wanted to do. I have Minerva looking after Luna. And I have Fred and Neville protecting Y/n. All he has left is me.

"Adelina, - I was hoping you'd show up," Austin spoke out as he walked out from behind a rock.

"You knew I'd be here," I told him trying to keep my cool.

At least at first.

"Yes, only to get revenge on me for what I did to your precious little sister. I would've done it to her twin to, but I couldn't find her -"

"I'd kill you,"

"Ooo, Im so scared, -"

"You should be,"

"Why didnt you tell me about Luna?"

"I never wanted you know,"

"You didnt think I had a right to know about my own daughter. Something we created together through our love,"

"Love?! Please! You raped me! - I knew thats all you wanted from the beginning and because I wouldn't give it to you, - You decided to take it from me! Well, guess what Austin, I've grown since then! I've grown stronger and I know how to protect myself,"

"Let's try it shall we,"

He shot a blast at me from his wand. I quickly blocked it with my own.

"Very nice - Im intrigued,"

"You're also sick,"

"Come on Lina, lets go back to the way things used to be -"

"I'd never want any part of you ever again. And you're never gonna get anywhere near Luna or Y/n ever again!"

"We'll see,"

He shot another blast at me, I once again blocked it. He kept firing them at me. I kept blocking them. I blasted him with one, in a split second where he was just holding his wand, and it was enough to blast him back several feet, making him fall to the ground. I felt proud of that one. However, it wasnt enough to stop him. He quickly shot a blast at me sending me back, making me land on the ground. I tried to catch my breath from the impact of the blast. Out of my blurry vision I saw Severus come out from behind me, standing in between me and Austin.

"Severus what are you doing here?!" I asked him honestly quite irritated that he followed me.

"Making sure you're alright," Severus told me.

I stood to my feet.

"Dont worry, Im fine, - Now leave Severus!" I commaned of him.

"No! - Not until I know your safe!" He told me.

"Im fine! Will you just -"

"Isnt this just precious? -"

Severus and I both looked at Austin.

"Is Severus Snape finally your boyfriend? - After all these years?"

"I'm not her boyfriend," Severus told Austin quickly.

"Oh what a pity, - She used to talk about you all the time. How much she loved you and wanted you. - She talked about how much she wanted you to ask her to the yule ball, but you never did. When you left her in the dark, I was the only one left. - I was clearly better than you. Seeing as I was one of the chosen contestants for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I asked her and she went with me. Thats when we started dating. - And since its out in the open, I did only want one thing from her, I might've had to force it on her, but I got it. And from that one moment, she got pregnant. And she never bothered to tell me. - I've come for my daughter Adelina, and Im not leaving until I get her,"

"You'll have to go through me first!" I threatened.

"Not a problem," he stated.

Severus shot several blasts at him from his wand. Though Austin just quickly blocked all of them. In one strong blast from his wand, he threw Severus several feet. I wanted to kill him right here and now. In anger I used the crucio spell on him. It brought him down to the ground. I was satisfied as I looked at him. I moved myself back to Severus to make sure he was okay. My one mistake was turning away from him. Though I was alert to him. I quickly turned, blocking another blast.

"If I can't get to my daughter and your sister, I can take away the one man you've always loved, - It'll hurt you more than anything -"

Just as he held up his wand, to use the killing curse on Severus, I panicked. I quickly held up my wand, speaking out the words quickly, but clearly. I walked over to him cautiously, after he had flown back and landed on the ground near the rock. I looked deep into his eyes as he laid there. Is it finally over? Am I rid of him forever? Severus rushed over to me.

"Adelina, are you -"

Before he could finish his question, I threw my arms around him, holding him around his waist as tightly as I could. Severus said nothing he just held me. My heart raced as I felt him place a soft kiss to the top of my head. Tears raced down my cheeks. Severus just held me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked me softly.

"I didnt want you to know, - I was ashamed, - And I was trying to keep anyone else from knowing about him, because I knew it would put their life in danger. That's why I didnt tell anyone about Luna. - I knew it would put them in danger. - I was afraid he would come back, and -"

"You don't have to worry about him now - He's gone Lina - And he won't ever come back - Luna is safe now, and she always will be," Severus said to me reassuringly.

I didnt know what else to say. I let myself relax as he held me, placing another soft kiss to the top of my head.

"Was what he said true? - About you having feelings for me?" He asked me not sure if he wanted to know the true answer.

"Yes Severus -"

I leaned back from him, so I could look into his face.

"It's true, - I've had feelings for you ever since I met you. I was just too afraid to tell you. - I didnt know how you'd react and I was afraid you'd reject me," I finally admitted to him through fear that he would actually reject me.

He was quiet for a moment. I was honestly afraid I made the wrong move just now by admitting my feelings to him. He looked straight into my eyes.

"I love you too Adelina,"

Before I could say anything else, Severus trapped me within his lips. I honestly didn't know how to feel, except calm and at peace. I kissed him back without any hesitation. Now that I have him, - I wont let him go. A smile passed Severus as he leaned back and looked at me. I haven't seen him smile in a long time.

"I think maybe we should go disclose to Albus what happened," Severus told me calmly.

I nodded in agreement.

"I'd also like to go see my sister," I told him.

"Of course," he spoke softly.

We walked back to the castle together. Severus kept an arm around me as we walked. All thoughts of everything rushed around in my head. I know Severus is right about telling Albus about Austin, but all I care about right now is Y/n.

Part 19 coming soon. . .

Taglist:

@cece-lives-here

@saur20

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

The Whole Truth - 6

(This chapter is another long one, so use this AO3 link to read more comfortably, or catch up on any you missed! Aziraphale and Crowley find a solution to the curse problem...)

Friday

“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale said, soft and gentle, when Crowley finally started to stir. He kissed the demon’s forehead, then his nose. “You’re so lovely when you sleep. So warm. So—”

“Knock it off,” Crowley mumbled with a sleep-heavy smile. “Ruin my reputation.”

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, you know,” Aziraphale continued, feeling perfectly content. Some time ago, he’d sat up against the headboard and Crowley had immediately shifted, curling up to lay in his lap. It made for a stunning contrast, the black clothes and red hair against the white duvet.

Aziraphale leaned down and pressed his lips against Crowley again, the temple, then the cheek, the jaw. “I’m going to kiss you today, my love,” he said calmly, though Crowley’s eyes opened in alarm. “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Do you…still want me to stop you?” The back of his fingers brushed Aziraphale’s cheek.

“No. I don’t want that at all. But I still think it’s the best idea. Also, I needed a distraction, so your hair is ruined. I’m not sorry, though, and I’m sure you told me bed hair is popular. This probably isn’t what it means, but you could start a new trend.”

Crowley pressed a finger to Aziraphale’s lips, but he was smiling, and his eyes were gentle. “I have things to tell you. But we should get up first.” Crowley sat up, causing his hair to shift. It flared out in every direction, in spikes and waves that defied gravity. Aziraphale’s fingers had been very busy for nearly an hour. Crowley patted at the hopeless mess. “I need to fix this. Then we talk.”

 --

Crowley entered the kitchen just as Aziraphale was setting his omelet on the table. “Sorry, dearest, I know I didn’t ask to use your stove, but as I said…distractions.” He glanced up and, oh dear, Crowley had changed his hair into loose waves and curls again. Aziraphale’s fingers ached to reach for it, to see how much softer it was without all that product in it to keep it in place…

He quickly sat down and started eating.

“How are you feeling? You know, aside from…”

“Aside from the need to constantly assure you of the depth of my love? It is truly fathomless. Do you remember, back in Rome—”

“Yes, besides that.” Crowley still hovered back by the counter, looking nervous.

“I feel…anxious. Defenseless. I’m very much afraid every time I begin to speak, not knowing quite what I’ll say or do. And when I remember this isn’t some random chance, that it was a deliberate attack by a demon, even if directed at another angel, I feel…” he tapped his fork against the plate. “I feel violated.” A weak smile. “And yet, so very glad you’re here, my dear.”

“Angel, I don’t…” Crowley sank into a chair facing Aziraphale, clearing his throat nervously. “You’re not going to like what I say next.”

“Well, I’m already disappointed in this conversation.” He said breezily, watching with horror as his mind hopped to another subject. “I was hoping you would sit in my lap. Next time I’ll have to hide the other chairs.” Oh, not again. He resumed eating with frantic speed.

Long fingers moved across the table and grasped his free hand. “Aziraphale…there isn’t a demonic curse on that book.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale put his fork down, very nearly pulled his hand away. But then Crowley squeezed his fingers and he decided he would never let go for the rest of eternity. “Yesterday, I cornered someone outside a coffee shop and told them in exquisite detail about the time you and I met Christopher Marlowe. I told a customer on Tuesday that he couldn’t purchase a book because I didn’t like the way he smelled. And just now I have the overwhelming urge to tell you I once spent a century trying to teach myself to draw just so I could have an image of you, but I could never quite get the nose right; but now the lighting in this room is absolutely perfect and I want to try again with you in front of me and – Crowley, how can you say this isn’t a curse?”

The demon calmly waited for the words to subside, then inched his chair closer, closer, until their knees brushed under the table, until he could reach around the plate and take Aziraphale’s other hand as well.

“I said it’s not a demonic curse. And it’s…a human curse wouldn’t affect you. Which leaves…”

“Angels? No, we don’t – angels don’t make cursed objects.” He tried to pick up his fork, to indicate that the matter was closed, but his mouth refused to play along. “I suppose we could. I mean, what’s really the difference between a cursed item and a blessed one?” The horrifying thoughts rose in his mind, one after the next. “I’ve – I’ve certainly done my share of curses, covering for you. They aren’t structurally all that different. And I’ve seen angels create objects that heal, or deliver inspiration…ones that can be used to locate and identify wicked or deceitful beings…oh, Lord.”

His hands convulsed, and Crowley held them, tighter. “I know, Angel, I know…”

“It forces you to tell the truth. To confront secrets you hide from yourself.” His stomach twisted. “That’s not demonic at all. How did I…I’m so stupid. How could I miss something like that?”

“No, come here—” With a tug, he guided Aziraphale over to him, pulled the angel into his lap, wrapped arms around him. “You were looking at the book, not the magic. Like you said last night – it was the perfect trap. For you. A mystery you couldn’t quite solve. How were you supposed to resist? And the longer you touched it, the stronger the compulsion.”

“I’m…the target?” His mind whirled, even worse than before he’d slept. “But who…why…no, the raid…”

“There was never any raid, Angel. Everything’s been quiet on our end for months. It was all a lie.”

“A…another angel…did this to me? On purpose?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, Aziraphale, please.”

“I’m…” Aziraphale sniffed, and realized his cheeks were drenched with tears. When had that started? He wasn’t upset, or angry. He felt strangely calm inside.

No, not calm. Numb.

Crowley held him closer, rocked him, pushed Aziraphale’s head down to rest on his shoulder.

“Have to tell Gabriel. He’ll help me. Always so…so kind. Gives me…so many chances…when I fail, or…or…” He shut his eyes. “He’ll help me…”

“Angel. He gave you the book.”

“No, he…he can’t know. He’s an Archangel, they…they watch over us…care for us…”

Crowley’s lips against his forehead. “I’m sorry. The – the blessing…it’s too strong. One of the Archangels created it.”

“He said if – if I tried to remove the curse, I’d be incinerated. Never even checked for myself.” Stupid, stupid angel. “If it were true…I’d…I’d have felt it immediately, wouldn’t I? Like you did?”

“Yes, but – you’re not – you’re not experienced with these things. You didn’t know you were supposed to feel anything.”

“Gabriel called me an expert. Asked me for a favor. I was so proud. I want…wanted to prove myself…”

“I know. I know.”

Crowley held him, and Aziraphale cried, quietly, his heart breaking into pieces.

--

“So, what do we do?” Aziraphale and Crowley sat on the sofa, an hour later. Aziraphale tried very hard to watch Crowley’s eyes, but his own gaze kept drifting down, just a few inches.

It wasn’t that unusual. He often watched Crowley’s lips when he spoke; with his eyes usually hidden, the best way to catch what the demon was thinking was by those tiny quirks of the lip, the little smirks and frowns at the edges of his usual scowl.

And if Aziraphale wanted to press his lips to the corner of that mouth now…

“Well,” Crowley was saying, and Aziraphale pulled his gaze back up, trying to focus. “I can’t take the blessing off the book. Gabriel might have exaggerated, but it’s still more than either of us can handle.”

“What if we worked together? Combined our powers somehow?”

“Probably make it worse.” Crowley’s lips twitched just a bit, a hint of a smile. “These things are delicate, and combining angel and demon powers…”

“I suppose you’re right.” The tip of Crowley’s tongue appeared, just for a fraction of a second, wetting his lips, and Aziraphale’s own tongue moved in sympathy. Just a little quick kiss, right there at the side of the mouth, what would it hurt? He loved Crowley so much he was about to burst—

“Oh, come here,” Aziraphale snapped, pulling Crowley down to lay across his lap, gliding his fingers through that hair. It was even softer than he’d imagined, strands separating and flowing like water. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind, but I can’t focus on anything right now, apart from making sure you know how very much I love you. And on how, ironically, that thought is going to get us both killed.”

“I don’t mind,” Crowley sighed, settling against his thighs. “Do your worst, that’s what it’s there for.”

Aziraphale sank both hands into those thick red tresses, running through them from root to tip. “Oh, God, I love you.” He closed his eyes, absorbed in the luxuriant feel. “So, if we can’t take the curse – blessing, I mean – off the book, can we take it off me?”

“That’s easier, generally,” Crowley agreed. “Not even that complicated, it’s like…untying a knot. But this one’s stronger than anything I’ve seen. It’d take years. Decades, maybe.”

“Well, we have six hours. Possibly a bit more, Gabriel always runs late when I’m expecting him.” He tilted his head back to look at the corner, where brilliant white wall met brilliant white ceiling, and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair again. “Which I’m now realizing is probably not just an unfortunate coincidence, is it? It makes me feel like I’m some – some irritation, like I have to state my business as quickly as possible so he can go back to more important things, apologize for taking up his time, and of course that’s what he wants. Why did I never realize? Why am I so naïve?”

“You’re an angel. You trust the people you’re supposed to trust.” His fingers reached up to brush Aziraphale’s chin, and the angel immediately turned to kiss them, reveling in their slightly salty taste. “Sorry.” Crowley pulled away. “Any idea why he would do this now?”

“Well…I have been avoiding work rather thoroughly lately.” He smiled down at Crowley. “Ever since we reconnected, almost thirty years ago, I’ve been finding every excuse to spend time with you.”

“I thought as much.” Crowley’s fingers traced across his waistcoat, and even through all the layers, it made him shiver. “I mean oh, Crowley, I’m not going to be at the bookshop tonight, I have a reservation at my favorite sushi restaurant. So if you’re planning to bother me, don’t come here. Not exactly subtle.”

“It worked, though, and you showed up in that lovely dress, which I wasn’t expecting at all, black with the embroidered red flowers, your hair all up in a knot. You were beautiful, darling, don’t even try to deny it, I could hardly take my eyes off you all evening and…” Aziraphale bit off the rest of his words. “Yes, well. I have avoided at least…eight assignments that would have taken me outside of London for considerable lengths of time. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you. I suppose my excuses have been rather transparent of late – I told Gabriel I couldn’t go to America because the London sewers were…er…on fire.”

Crowley tipped his head back and laughed, sliding across Aziraphale’s thighs. “He might have started to catch on at that point. But it’s still just a few missed jobs.”

“It’s disobedience.” One finger scratched near Crowley’s ear, and the demon purred. “He doesn’t really need more than that, does he?”

“Nnnnh. Is there more?”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s fingers brushed through his hair again. “Centuries of it. Long before the Arrangement. I’ve had doubts. I’ve avoided assignments. I…never questioned, but I’ve come close, skirted the line, pushed the boundaries.” Anxious hands twitched. “Has it finally become too much? Has he been trying to catch me out for centuries, and I’ve just been too stupid to notice?”

“Stop saying that, Angel. We both know how clever you are. If he’s trying this on you now, it must mean that in six thousand years, he’s never had anything to go on. That’s good.”

“Whatever he’s looking for, Gabriel’s going to uncover a great deal more tonight than he ever expected.” The panic began climbing its way up his throat again. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m going to betray you, Crowley. I can feel it. I’m going to tell him everything.”

“Look, even if you can’t lie, you can twist it around. Make it sound like all those restaurants and bars and wine tastings and movies and walks in the park were just by yourself?” His thumb caught one of the buttons and rolled across it. “I don’t know how much trouble you’ll be in, but…if they don’t know about me, it won’t be as bad.”

“Impossible.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and raised it to his lips again, kissing each knuckle. “Two days ago, I could resist, perhaps, but not anymore. And what if it keeps getting worse? Imagine what I’ll be like in a week…I’ll happily confess to everything.” He thought Crowley’s fingers were trembling, but no – it was his own hand, holding them. “Do you…do you think I’ll Fall? No, that would just send me to you, and I’m starting to believe Gabriel isn’t even that kind. He’ll…he’ll destroy me. No, he’ll destroy you, in front of me, so I can—”

“Angel, shhh, it’s not going to come to that.”

“I won’t let him, Crowley. I told you, I’ll never let them hurt you, I meant it.”

“Shhh.” Crowley tugged his hand, pulling Aziraphale’s towards him, pressing it open to lay kisses on his palm. “There is…one other option. But you’re going to hate it.”

A choked laugh. “Crowley, I’ve hated every one of your ideas for the past six thousand years, and yet I’ve always gone along with them.”

“Because I’m usually right?”

“No, because I’m in love with an idiot.” He bent over with a smile, kissing Crowley’s forehead, then kept going, a line of kisses – the brow, that perfect nose, and…

Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, stopping him, holding him back as their breath caressed each other’s lips. “You said you shouldn’t,” Crowley reminded him.

“I know. I shouldn’t. But I want to, my darling, dearest Crowley. I want to kiss you right now, and kiss you until you can’t breathe, and – and – and – I haven’t actually considered what comes next, but we have six hours until we die, we can figure it out. Let’s go back to bed, stay there to the end. Let me groom your wings, let me touch you, I need to tell you, to show you—”

A thumb gently brushed across his lips, though Crowley’s face had gone quite red. Aziraphale was sure his own matched. “Angel,” and his voice sounded a little strained now. “We aren’t going to die.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll find a way to keep you safe. If you return to Hell, you should be…no, the rumors will reach them soon enough. You must leave. What’s that star system you always talk about? Alpha Centauri? Start there, and—”

“A-zir-a-phale,” Crowley drew the name out. “I’m not going anywhere. You said you’d let me be there for you.” The angel nodded weakly. “Neither of us is going to die, because I know how to stop this. I have a plan. But you’ll have to trust me. And stop squeezing me like that.”

Aziraphale realized his arms were clutching at Crowley protectively. He let go, and the demon sat up, resettling on the sofa next to him. Crowley picked up the angel’s hand, pressing it between both of his. “Alright. The blessing has infected your mind. I can’t untangle it fast enough. But I can isolate it, I can pull it out. You’ll go back to the way you’ve always been.”

“Just…like that? It seems too easy.”

“Well, there are a few problems. I’ll need to put it somewhere…so I’ll take it on myself.”

“What? No!” Aziraphale jerked back, but Crowley still held his hand. “That’s – that’s absurd, Crowley, it’s far too dangerous and furthermore, it won’t work at all, as you’d just – just go around babbling to everyone, and your superiors will find out anyway. No, I forbid it.”

Crowley shook his head. “This blessing was designed for you, fed by the time you spent bent over that book, handling it, breathing it in. I barely touched the thing, it’ll be weaker for me. I won’t be able to lie to you, but that should be the only effect.” He smiled. “Won’t even notice the difference. I’ve never lied to you.”

Aziraphale felt his smile return. “Not ever? Even when you said – no, no it’s not important. I’ll concede, it might work, but we obviously can’t stay that way.” He leaned forward eagerly, squeezing Crowley’s hand. “I’ll find a way to undo it. You said years, decades, but I have hundreds of reference tomes in the shop. Surely I can find a way to—”

Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it. “It’s, um, more an art than a science. You leave that to me. Especially because…because when I take the curse, I’m going to remove all the memories connected to it.”

“No.” This time Aziraphale pulled away, sliding back across the sofa, trying to escape Crowley’s words. “Take my memories? All this last week?” What was his heart doing? His breath? Lord, he was dying right now, every muscle in his body tense and straining. “All those things you said – everything we – you told me you love me. I won’t…you can’t take this from me, Crowley. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s the only way.” Crowley inched towards him, and Aziraphale felt his panic rising. He shrank back, hiding behind his hands, pushing the truth away. “You said – Angel, you said you’d die to keep me safe. But this way no one has to die, or get hurt, or…”

“Dying would be easier! Crowley, I can’t go back to – to not knowing!”

“Look, I can – I can say it again, Angel. Tell you properly this time, take you out for dinner—”

“No, no, I won’t want to hear it, I’ll just – I’ll reject you,” he realized with horror. “Oh, Crowley, I’m sorry, I swear, I’ll think I’m doing it to protect you. You must understand that I – I won’t mean it, but I will...”

“So, I can…I can explain. Tell you about the book and Gabriel and—”

“And I won’t believe you. Oh, Lord, Crowley, I’m going to trust him again. After everything he did…” Aziraphale hunched over himself, arms pressed to his chest, heart palpitating. “I can’t…can’t go back to that…” He could picture himself, following Gabriel around like a puppy, not even aware of how many times he’d been kicked. Had the Archangel ever liked him?

“There’s got to be something we can do. Write yourself a letter, make a video, tell me something only you would know…”

“And then what? Once I’m convinced, I’ll – can you return the memories? That’s what I’ll ask.”

“Yes. I'm not - they won't be destroyed, I'll just be holding them for a while.” Aziraphale felt himself begin to relax. Put that way, it sounded...not good, but at least not terrifying. “But until I’ve removed the blessing you’ll just…wind up like this again. Back where we started.”

“And how long will that take? You said decades…”

“Twenty years,” Crowley shrugged. “Maybe thirty. As I said, untying a knot – if you rush it, it gets worse.”

“That isn’t…so bad,” Aziraphale admitted, rubbing a hand across his face. “But that means…oh, Lord, we’re going to do this, aren’t we?” He moved back across the sofa, set his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “It means you can’t tell me. Not until the memories are ready, because I’ll just insist you return them immediately. And round and round we’ll go. So, you can’t tell me about the curse, or about Gabriel, or…or even…”

“That I love you,” Crowley half-swallowed the word, as if it hurt. He slid his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and pressed his lips to the angel’s temple. “And I’ll have to stand by while you try to please that – that – that—”

“That arrogant sod? That self-righteous pus stain? That condescending, pusillanimous, egotistical, cold-hearted—”

“I was going to say ‘bastard.’ Or maybe ‘wank-wings.’ Where did you even learn that sort of language?”

“I read, darling.” Aziraphale sighed, leaning into his embrace. “We’ve waited six thousand years. What’s twenty more?” He picked up Crowley’s hand and studied it. “Can you restore them as soon as they’re ready?”

“Technically, yes. But even with the blessing removed, you’ll probably be unable to lie for a day or two. Residue. I’ll have to wait until we’re somewhere we won’t be disturbed. And you can be very stubborn about going off the grid.”

“Then try not make it sound like some – some illicit activity and maybe I’ll come along.” He kissed Crowley’s cheek. “And do be sure there’s at least a double bed. Oh, don’t blush so. I don’t plan to let go of you for two days, it’ll need to be big enough for me to hold you while you sleep.” He remembered the way Crowley had looked, in the dawn light, nestled in his arms, and he would happily have lived in that moment for eternity.

They sat together for a few minutes, not talking, just feeling the love flow between them. It was the most honest Aziraphale had ever been.

“So,” he finally broke the silence. “How long will this take?”

“Extracting the blessing and memories – maybe an hour? And you’ll need to rest at least an hour more while your mind recovers.”

“That leaves us…four hours.” He rested his hand on Crowley’s knee. “Closer to three and a half. And I think I’d rather make the most of that time.”

Crowley swallowed, fingers twitching nervously. “Anything you want, Angel.”

“Anything?” He tilted his head up to meet those golden eyes and grinned wickedly. “Anything at all?”

--

Eliza looked at the earrings in the glass counter of the pawn shop. “I mean, they look nice,” she grumbled, “but I still think mom would rather have a watch for her birthday.”

“Would she?” her sister smirked. “Or are you just saying that because the earrings cost more, and you want to go see that band? You know, with that cute drummer from your Uni? What’s their name…?”

“Not everything is about romance, Rebecca,” she said, blushing. “They’re just – it’s a good band, ok? And, yeah, tickets are fifty quid, and the bakery doesn’t pay that well, so—”

The door of the pawn shop flew open and two men walked in – the pale figure Eliza recognized from the bakery, and a tall, lanky bloke with red hair.

“Attention everyone!” The bookseller called cheerfully. “I am Aziraphale, owner and proprietor of A.Z. Fell’s in Soho, which is a perfectly wonderful pseudonym, despite all complaints I have received. This exquisite creature is Anthony J. Crowley, my best friend, the love of my life, and the most darling being in the entire world. We are here to celebrate a love that is entwined into the whole of human history, and anyone who wishes to join us is invited to meet at the duck pond in St James’s Park in half an hour. Anyone who does not approve is invited to go sit on an egg!” He beamed proudly at the man beside him, whose face was almost as red as his hair.

“Yeah, I still don’t think you have that last part right, Angel.”

“Nonsense, what could be more unpleasant than sitting on an egg? You, good sir!” He pointed to the owner of the shop. “We are here to look at jewelry!”

Eliza sighed and turned back to the argument with her sister, but froze at the familiar gleam in Rebecca’s eyes. “No. No we are not going to the park! There’s probably nothing going on! Yesterday that man told me he controls the weather!”

“But they’re in love!” Rebecca squealed. “And whatever’s going on it’ll probably be a riot.” She gasped, grabbing Eliza’s arm. “We should bring cake!”

“No, we’re not – you can’t use my bakery discount for…whatever this is!”

“Oi. Humans.” They looked up to see the man with the dark suit and red hair. His eyes were brilliant gold with slit pupils, like a cat, focused on the case behind them. “You’re standing in front of the rings.” His tone was harsh, but his face was still flushed pink.

“Congratulations,” Rebecca giggled, even as Eliza pushed her out of the way. “There’s a really nice gold one in the back!”

“That’s it,” Eliza groaned. “We can – just – buy mom that dress we saw. Let’s go.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. Look, I’ll pay for your half of the gift, and buy you those concert tickets. Please can we go?”

Eliza rubbed her eye. “What kind of cake?”

--

Half an hour later, Aziraphale stood beside the duck pond, hand tapping excitedly against the fence. The weather was perfect, almost a dozen people had gathered, and most importantly…Crowley was there, pinning a red rosebud to Aziraphale’s lapel.

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” Crowley complained. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Well, anything else would be a lie.” Aziraphale reached up and straightened the white daisy in Crowley’s buttonhole.

“Are you sure you want to do this here? Where we…had our fight?” His eyes tightened just at the mention of it.

“Where better? If we hadn’t fought, I wouldn’t have tried to stop that spy ring, and you wouldn’t have had to save me – and I wouldn’t have realized I love you more than all the wine in France.” He gazed out over the water, and noticed the black swan was there again. "Besides. It was always one of my favorite spots. And when we...weren't speaking...I would come here to remember you."

“Nnh.” Crowley leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together for just a second. “Fine. But…” he turned his head, stealing a glance toward the spectators. “I didn’t think so many would come.”

“You can put your glasses back on, you know. I only mind a little, but your comfort is far more important to me than having this moment be completed by the sight of your gorgeous eyes.”

“No.” He straightened up, and the smile that hovered at the corner of his lips was more brilliant than the light of Heaven. “I told you, while you don’t have your defenses, I don’t have mine.” His eyes darted to their audience again. “Just…why? I thought you didn’t want anyone to see you like this.”

“Because, my dearest love, if I’m not going to remember this moment, at least all of them will.”

“Ngk. If you want. Just.” Another anxious look. “Don’t make me talk to anyone.”

“Just me, I promise.”

Aziraphale pulled out a silver chain from his pocket, and draped it around Crowley’s neck. None of the rings had looked right but this…somehow…was perfect.

“Anthony J. Crowley,” he began, loud enough for his voice to carry. “My darling. My love. I trust you with everything that I am, as I always have, as I always will, forever and ever. You have cared for me, when no one else did, kept me close when I pushed you away, came to my aid when I thought all was lost, with never a moment’s hesitation. You are my best friend, have been for centuries, and I want nothing more than to be by your side for centuries to come. For eternity, if we can have it.” He smiled and ran his fingers across Crowley's new chain. Yes. Perfect.

Crowley glared at his feet, biting his lip. “For Satan’s sake, Angel…” his eyes drifted up, filled with tears. “How am I supposed to follow that?”

Aziraphale took his hand. “However you wish, my Crowley. My love for you isn’t going to change because of a few words.”

“I hope not.” With one last glare towards the crowd – which was perhaps meant to be intimidating, but utterly ruined by the way he blushed – Crowley leaned forward and whispered in Aziraphale’s ear.

“Yes, dear. That…that will do nicely.”

Aziraphale held out his hand and Crowley produced a golden signet ring. He slid it onto Aziraphale’s pinky, where no one would suspect it meant a thing, least of all Aziraphale and twined their fingers together. Both their hands trembled.

“Well,” Aziraphale said,  blinking his eyes clear. “I – thank you all for coming. I suppose that’s…”

“Kiss!” A young woman’s voice called from the crowd. “It’s not official until you kiss!”

“Rebecca, shut up,” another voice cut in.

Aziraphale took both of Crowley’s hands in his. “Well. You heard the excitable young lady.”

“I don’t think there’s anything official about any of this,” Crowley said dryly, but he leaned closer, hesitating. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

The first brush of Crowley’s lips stole his breath away.

The second destroyed him, tore him apart, left him hollow and raw.

The third breathed new life, filled him with a love and hope beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

After that, his tongue brushed Crowley’s bottom lip, and he rather lost track of things.

--

“Wow,” Rebecca said, eyebrows vanishing into her hair. “I did not know old men kissed like that.”

“Why are you so weird?” Eliza sighed. “Are you happy now? We saw their…semi-wedding. Can we go?”

“Eliza, you can’t leave the wedding before the cake.” She held the box up. “Oi! Anyone want cake?”

--

Aziraphale broke off the kiss, turning so suddenly Crowley lost his balance and would have fallen in the pond had the fence not stopped him. The demon gasped for breath, trying to think through the brilliant, golden sparks that filled his mind, trying to feel anything beyond that wonderful, eternal glow of—

“Darling, did you hear that? Someone brought cake!”

--

They sat together, one last time, on the shop sofa, watching the seconds tick away.

“It’s…it’s only twenty years, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, head resting on his shoulder, twisting the new ring on his pinky. It had little wings. Utterly perfect. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Nh,” his husband grunted, running a thumb along the silver chain. “Long as something doesn’t go wrong.”

“What would go wrong? The blessing? You’re sure you can unravel it? It might be different from a curse—”

“No,” Crowley interrupted, resting a hand on Aziraphale’s temple. “I can see it clearly now. Twenty…maybe twenty-one years. But what if Gabriel tries something else? You won’t even know to look out for it.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I’ll have to trust you to keep an eye on…well, me.” He carefully unpinned the rosebud from his jacket, spinning it between his fingers. “Don’t let me take any foolish risks, either. I…I’m going to think protecting us both is my job. I’m used to taking care of these things. Be patient with me, and know that I love you.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “How will I know when you’re thinking about me?”

“Oh, my dear. I always am.” He sat up to meet those golden eyes. “If I’m talking, I’m trying not to say I love you. If I’m silent, I’m trying to hold it in. If I smile, I’m remembering how much I love you. If I get annoyed, it’s because I can’t believe I love such an idiot. There is no moment that my heart isn’t full of you.” He looked at the clock. Two minutes to go.

Crowley’s fingers landed on his chin, turning him back.

“I – I – I suppose I’ll see you in twenty years?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Crowley smiled. “Movie night.”

“Oh, yes. Something with a wedding at the end, I think, regardless of what I say.” His eyes darted to the clock. “Crowley. Kiss me again.”

It was just as soft – as tender – as passionate – as glorious as the first.

Crowley’s fingers pressed to his temples.

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered, one last time.

--

An hour later, Crowley stood up, arranging his husband – his best friend – his angel on the sofa.

One last kiss on the forehead. It would have to hold him over for a few decades, and he had a feeling the 2000s were going to be rough.

“Goodnight, Angel,” he said, softly, pulling his glasses out of his pocket, sliding them on his nose. His defense against the world back in place.

Crowley walked out of the bookshop, and began to pick at the edges of the blessing in his mind.

--

The Archangel Gabriel appeared in the dusty collection of records Aziraphale was so fond of. He arrived two hours later than scheduled, knowing it would make the Principality anxious and eager to please.

He had waited thousands of years for this moment.

Ever since Eden, really – since the Guardian of the Eastern Gate had questioned the decision to throw the humans out. It had been a small question – are you sure? – but these things always started small.

He’d been watching for signs of rebellion, signs of doubt. He had his suspicions. Some angels flaunted their disobedience, others carefully hid it, walking the line, pretending to believe while harboring wicked, deceitful thoughts. Well. They all slipped up eventually.

All except Aziraphale.

There he was now, wandering out from a dark corner, eyes stuck on another of those – those books. He glanced up, then jumped, startled. “Oh! Oh, Gabriel. Oh, my. What brings you here?”

“I’ve come for your update.” He folded his hands and waited.

It was the perfect trap. Aziraphale would have spent the last five days touching the blessing, breathing it in, rolling it through his mind and weaving it in his thoughts as he tried to decipher the infinitely-changing text. It should have a complete hold on him now, compelling him to express his deepest secrets. Finally, finally, Gabriel would have the confession he needed to prove Aziraphale was a corrupt, worthless angel.

The Principality blinked his over-bright, nervous eyes.

“Update? On…? I’m sorry, I’ve been terribly busy this week.”

“The book,” Gabriel prompted. Aziraphale shook his head. “The cursed book?”

“Oh, the book! Oh, oh, no, I forgot entirely!” Aziraphale spun, searching the room, hesitating for just a second on a vase full of flowers. “I’m sure I have it around here somewhere. I put it on my desk, thinking this should be quite interesting. Yes! There.” He crossed the floor and picked it up, holding it out to Gabriel with a bland, sheepish grin.

Gabriel waited again, but still no compulsion seemed to loosen Aziraphale’s tongue. “Well? What did you find out?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, as I said, I’ve been quite busy. Only had a chance to glance at it two, maybe three times.” He tipped up the book to look sadly at the cover. “Fascinating stuff. Pity it has to be destroyed.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, jaw tight, pulling the tome from his hands. “Pity.” It had taken seven years to create that book, and another three to perfect the blessing. How, how could it have failed? “What have you been up to this week?”

“Oh, this and that. Various concerns of London. Minor healing here, bit of good luck there. Nothing to concern you with, but sadly it kept me out of my shop for days on end.”

That was all. The same blathering, unconfirmable nothing as ever, hidden behind that simpering, smirking face. The lying, treacherous bastard was about to get away with it again. Whatever it was. Gabriel had to fight not to lose his temper, throw the book, smite the disrespectful Principality where he stood.

“Well.” He dropped the book onto a chair. “Sorry to hear that. Perhaps we can get an extension—”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale frowned. “No, this all sounds quite dangerous. I’m afraid the best thing is to get rid of it as soon as possible. I’ve had a bit of time to think, and mystery aside, there’s not likely anything to be learned from it. After all, the demons associated with it were all killed, correct?”

“Yes,” Gabriel grunted. “I did – I told you I was counting on you for this, didn’t I?”

Aziraphale’s face crumpled into guilt. At least that still worked. “Yes…you did say something to that effect. I’m – I am sorry to disappoint, but—”

“Disappoint? I ordered you to get answers. You know what this means?”

“I – I – I—”

It was almost enough to make Gabriel smile. But that panic wouldn’t do him much good – this job hadn’t been sanctioned by anyone in Heaven, so the worst Gabriel could do was berate the Principality in private, and make a show of forgiving him. That might buy a few years of quiet obedience, but it didn’t solve the core problem, that defective knot that he knew lived in Aziraphale’s soul.

“I – I don’t believe you did.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m sorry, Gabriel, but when you came here on Monday, you said you wanted to consult with me on a cursed book. I…that is, you said this was a favor, not an – an actual order as such. So, while I am sorry to disappoint you, truly I am…”

The Archangel clapped his hands, squeezing them, imagining the core of Aziraphale’s true form was being crushed between them. “No! You’re right. This – this was a favor and…well…” He floundered.

And that absolute bastard smiled at him. “Jolly good. Glad that’s sorted. But, please, Gabriel. Anything you need in future. I would very much like another chance to assist you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find something.” He picked up the book and prepared to depart, then hesitated. There was a suspicion that had lurked in his mind for nearly a thousand years. “By the way, was that demon…what’s his name…Crowley? Was he involved in any of this…this business of yours?”

That stupid, nervous smile flashed across Aziraphale’s face, but he was almost entirely calm when he replied: “No, I haven’t seen Crowley all week.”

“Well. See you soon.”

The next instant, Gabriel was back in Heaven, in his private office. He tossed the book aside. So much wasted effort.

Still. There was one big project on the horizon. Something Aziraphale couldn’t help but fail at.

He pressed a button on his desk phone. “Get me an update on the Armageddon plans.”

--

Gabriel left, and Aziraphale felt the knot of worry untie in his stomach. The whole situation with that cursed book had entirely slipped his mind while he…

While he…

What had he been up to this week?

He remembered bits and pieces. Wandering the streets, talking to people, the usual. He’d picked up this lovely golden ring somewhere, and had already grown quite fond of it. But the week had flown by in a rather extraordinary way, and he couldn’t quite account for it.

Well, be that as it may. He was quite glad to spend the rest of the evening in his favorite chair, perhaps reread Hamlet or one of Georgette Heyer’s novels. Yes, he was very much in the mood for a happy ending tonight, though he wasn’t sure why.

On his way to the shelves, he noticed the vase full of daisies again. He couldn’t recall where they came from, but they did brighten up the room wonderfully.

--

(Thank you! Notes for this chapter can be found on AO3, but especial thanks to @under-a-linden-tree for help writing Aziraphale’s wedding vows, because it was just a bit sappier than I usually go! The final two chapters are quick epilogues, which I will have up as soon as possible.)

@black-velvet-roses-tea @witchingwhovian

[sockablock]

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Chapter 3: Skies Darkening at Sunset

“So, everybody understand the plan?” Fjord asked.

They were all standing outside the old barn, clustered together around the door and bathing in the early-morning sunlight. Caduceus had woven a second straw hat during the night’s watch, and Jester was plucking hay off of her dress.

“Me and Yasha are on recon,” Beau said, and Yasha nodded. “We’re trying to get as much info as we can from the villagers about this place, and this time, and if anything funky’s going on.”

Jester pointed gleefully at Fjord. “We’re on Caleb-duty!” she announced next. “We’re gonna teach that kid some magic!”

“And try and see if there’s any hint of non-kid Caleb in there,” Fjord added.

“See if you can wake ‘im up, too,” Beau said. “Like…kick him in the head, or something.”

“I can’t kick that high,” Fjord sighed. “And even if I could, I don’t think goin’ around and kicking children is the answer.”

Beau shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to try,” she said.

He ignored this, turning instead to Caduceus and Nott. “Y’all know your job too, right?” he asked.

Nott met his gaze with a resentful frown. She kicked the ground glumly. “It’s not much of a job,” she said. “Not really a job at all.”

“Don’t worry.” Caduceus placed a massive, mitt-like hand on her head. “I’m sure it’s crucial to the overall plan,” he said calmly.

“Finding a grassy field and ‘staying put’ doesn’t sound so important,” Nott muttered.

“Sorry,” Fjord said sympathetically. “It’s just…the two of you stand out the most. And that might make it hard for you to talk to people. Plus…there’s a certain lack of social graces—”

“Yeah, you literally ate a tongue in the middle of a conversation once,” Beau said.

Nott shot her a glare, but settled down. “Yeah, yeah, well…Caduceus and I are going to have a great time hanging around and doing nothing. And you all aren’t invited. Isn’t that right, Mister Clay?”

Caduceus shrugged. “If that’ll make you feel better, then sure,” he said. “More tea for us.”

Fjord sighed. “Alright then,” he said, and pointed towards the town. “If we’re all settled then, let’s roll out. I know time is wonky here, but the quicker we get this all done, the better.”

•

Caleb was running gleefully through the grass when they arrived at his home, a large cloth sack in his arms, chasing around a small flock of chickens with fistfuls of cornmeal.

“Come back!” he shouted at a plump brown hen. “Come on, come on, I have to feed you!”

Jester immediately brightened and Fjord, despite his reluctance around children, felt his expression soften.

“Caleb!” she called cheerfully. “Caleb, good morning!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, almost tripped, and whipped around. A wide smile broke across his face.

“The magic people!” He shouted delightedly. “Hey, hey, you came!” Then he paused and looked around. “Where are the other ones of you?” he asked. “The really tall one and the really small one and the really angry one and the really dark one?”

“They’re dealing with their own business,” Fjord shrugged, and crouched down in the grass so he was level with Caleb. “But we decided to swing by and see if you were interested in learning a bit about magic today. If it’s alright with your parents, that is.”

Caleb’s eyes went wide. He nodded rapidly. “Papa is inside right now,” he said. “Warte mal! I’ll be right back!”

He dropped the bag of cornmeal and bolted towards the house.

The entire flock of chickens instantly swarmed in around them. Fjord turned and sighed at Jester as a hen ran across his boot.

“Well,” he said. “Uh…so far so good?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s true. But…how much exactly do you know about wizarding?”

They watched a hen cluck sharply at an approaching rooster. It squawked in terror and backed off.

“Actually,” Fjord said sheepishly, “I was kind of hoping you could take charge from here.”

•

Beau and Yasha stood in the fields at a distance, eyeing up a group of farmers.

“So…” the monk said slowly, “you distract them, then I’ll sneak up from behind and grab one. Then we run away, tie him up, and I punch the information out him.”

There was a brief pause.

“Why would that be a good idea?”

“I dunno. It just feels right.”

“I thought we were supposed to be non-violent.”

Beau sighed. “I know, I know, I just don’t wanna talk to anybody. I hate socializing.”

“But…we were assigned to do that,” Yasha said. “Was that not the whole point?”

“It was,” Beau mumbled, “but it’s only us because Fjord and Jester were the only candidates for magic-teaching, and then it was a matter of choosing between two normal-ish looking people, or a goblin and a giant talking cow.”

There was another pause.

“That is a bit mean, don’t you think?”

Beau’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah,” she said, “yeah, I guess so. I’m just…fuckin’ nervous, okay? Let’s just go in. And, uh, sorry…Caduceus, wherever you are.”

•

“—and then I think he proposed to me?” Nott said, waving her hands in the air. “Maybe? I don’t know, it was a really weird night, and between all the gnolls and dead people and dying people and hummingbirds, a lot was going on.”

“Sounds like it,” Caduceus agreed. “You guys really get up to some shenanigans, huh?”

The two of them were sitting under the shade of a large maple tree, lounging against its trunk and nestled in the thick grass. Caduceus had pulled out a small set of pipes, and was idly playing a soft melody as Nott spoke.

“We’ve been through a lot,” she shrugged. “Before you came along, and after. Especially after. And it’s nice you’re here. You’re very soft, and Jester’s never been this determined to be The Cleric, before.”

Caduceus chuckled. “It’s nice travelling with you guys as well. You’re very small. And Jester’s loads of fun.”

“I bet they’re having tons of fun without us right now,” Nott grumbled. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have taught Caleb magic. I know the most about it, out of all of us.”

Caduceus shrugged. “Sometimes we just have to go with the flow,” he said. “Besides, I don’t really understand it myself, but weren’t you worried about Caleb seeing you, or something?”

Nott sighed. “Yeah,” she said, “I just don’t think I could handle it if I scared him. He’s always…he was one of the first people to accept me as a goblin, you know?”

“I didn’t,” Caduceus said, “but I now I see your point.”

“He’s mentioned before, how he was told stories as a kid about how scary goblins are. And he’s not wrong. But it…it sucks.”

“I think it would be safe to say that all of this sucks, doesn’t it? Or am I reading the situation wrong?”

Nott snorted. “No, no,” she said, “no, you’ve pretty much nailed it. All of this is shifty.”

“Well,” said Caduceus after a few moments, “At least nothing is attacking us.”

“That’s true,” Nott agreed. “And it’s kind of fun to see Caleb this way. He’s really cute.”

“He is,” Caduceus agreed. “Maybe it’s best we just stay out of sight, and relax.”

“Yeah,” Nott said, leaning into the tree, “yeah, alright.”

“Here,” said Caduceus, “why don’t you tell me another story? How did you and Caleb meet?”

Nott giggled. “Oh boy,” she said, “oh, that’s a long one.”

•

“Alrighty then, young man!” Jester grinned, and watched Caleb hop onto a fallen log. “What sort of thing are you hoping to learn about?”

The boy began to balance-beam his way across, wobbling slightly as he went. “I don’t really know,” he said. “What do you want to teach me?”

Jester glanced over at Fjord, who shrugged. She turned back to Caleb. “We-ell, you said you could do some magic of your own, right? How much do you already know?”

He gave her a proud smile. “I can cast one spell,” he said. “The one I learned from the book! I would show you, but I have to have a glühwürmchen to do it.”

Fjord blinked and raised a hand. “Hang on,” he said. “A what?”

Caleb laughed. “A glow worm! Sorry, I keep forgetting that you do not speak Zemnian.”

“That’s alright,” Jester said cheerfully. “You can teach us later!”

“Then I get to be the teacher, right?” he grinned.

Jester giggled. “Exactly,” she said. “But right now, it’s our turn! So…what is your request, o Pupil of Mine?”

He tapped his chin. “Mm…do you think maybe you could teach me...everything?”

Fjord snorted and shook his head. “Sorry there, kid, but I think we might not have enough time for that. Is there something specific you might have in mind?”

Caleb paused at the end of the log and scratched the top of his head in deep thought. “Um…” he said, “…um…maybe…oh! What about that fire trick you showed me yesterday?” he asked Jester. “I want to learn that.”

She bit her lip. “Ah,” she said. “Ah…is there any reason why?”

Caleb shrugged. “I want to make fire,” he said. “Winter will be here soon, and our house is always cold at night. I want to warm it up! So Mama and Papa don’t have to worry. The lights I can already make don’t have any heat,” he added begrudgingly.

Fjord gave Jester a look that said: oh boy.

She sighed and shook her head. “Sorry, little Caleb. I’m not…totally sure I can teach you that one.”

His hopeful expression fell. “What?” he asked. “Aw…but, but why?”

Jester gave him an apologetic smile. “Well, because it’s not actually a magical spell. It’s just an ability I have.”

He cocked his head. “An ability?” he asked. “What…what do you mean?”

“I’m a tiefling,” she shrugged. “And tieflings have natural magic just…just in their blood. We can do certain spells, like that one, without actually having to learn them.”

Caleb’s dejected pout vanished into a look of budding curiosity. “Whoa,” he said. “Wait…wait, why? And how? Where does the magic come from? Why tieflings? And how do you know you can—”

Jester quickly held up a hand. “I think,” she said with a sly grin, “I think I might know something I can teach you now! It’s not exactly a magic itself, but it is very important for those who want to know magic.”

Caleb nodded immediately. He took a seat along the edge of the fallen tree and looked up at Jester with wide eyes. “Bitte,” he said, “bitte, please, I would like to know!”

She laughed. Then she gestured for Fjord to sit down in the grass, and did so herself.

“Alrighty then!” she said. “Listen closely to Professor Jester.” She waggled a finger and grinned. “Pay really good attention, now! There will be a quiz afterwards.”

•

“Excuse me,” Beau called as they waded through the fields, Yasha behind her and failing to seem as unassuming as possible. “Excuse me, I—”

One of the farmers turned around, saw them, and nodded immediately. “Are you the help?” he asked. “Not what I expected, but you seem plenty strong. There’s two sickles over in that cart, grab one and get started, ja?”

Beau and Yasha quickly exchanged glances.

The farmer raised an eyebrow. “Well? Hurry, bitte, I’m not paying you to stand around and gawk!”

Beau shook her head. “Actually,” she said, “you’re not paying us at all. But I think we’d be willing to lend a hand, free of charge, if you could just answer a few quick questions?”

The farmer’s other eyebrow went up. “You’re not trying to sell me anything, are you?”

“Uh…no?” Yasha said.

“Have you done field work before?” the farmer asked. “I can’t waste my time teaching you both.”

They exchanged glances again. Yasha shrugged. “I have,” she said. “I did a lot of odd jobs, before the carnival.”

“And I’ve worked my dad’s land in the past,” Beau said. “So yeah.”

The man nodded. “Ja, okay then,” he said, pointing at his cart. “My name is Max. Hop to it.”

•

“Magic isn’t just a tool for manipulating the world around you,” Jester said slowly, the mid-afternoon sun shining down on their heads. “Magic isn’t just a strange force that shapes water, or slows time, or heals wounds, or makes fire. And magic isn’t something that can just be controlled. It’s an idea, and a feeling, and a wish, and it lives. In every single fragment of our world. It’s in the first breath of a little baby, and in the skies darkening at sunset, and in the way the fields dance when the wind blows by. It’s in the sun, and the clouds, and the dirt. It’s woven into this plane, the Prime Material Plane, and exists side-by-side with all of us. Sometimes, people like me and Fjord, and people like you, can find this magic, and study it, and connect to it, and understand it, and only then can they start to use it. You’ve already got a head start,” she grinned at a beaming Caleb, “since you can already do one spell.”

“Dancing Lights,” he announced proudly.

“Exactly! But,” she said, “but, there are other planes. Other kinds of people. And on these planes, the magic is stronger there. Or unique. And people who are born in those worlds, or become connected to those worlds, are also naturally connected to that magic. For them, casting certain spells is as easy as breathing. And it’s passed down through parents and children, like blue eyes and red hair is.”

“Or like green skin?” Caleb chimed in.

Fjord, sitting in the grass, chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

“Just like that,” Jester nodded. “And that’s where my magic comes from. Well, some of it, anyway. Mine is a little all over the place.”

“All over the place?” Caleb echoed immediately. “What are the other places?”

Jester stroked her chin. “Well,” she said, “technically there are tons of other planes. There’s the Celestial Plane, where all the gods live, and their followers get divine types of magic from them. There are Elemental Planes, full of fire or water or air or earth, and people in tune with nature get their own kind of magic from those. The list goes on and on, really.”

“So where does my magic come from?” Caleb asked. “How do I tune in?”

Jester hesitated. She looked apologetic. “Sorry,” she said, “I don’t…I’m not entirely—”

And then she paused and stared at the sky. She shivered slightly, almost imperceptibly, and looked back to Caleb. In her eyes, the briefest, faintest, hint of green.

“All of them,” she said slowly. “Your magic is tied to every plane. That’s what makes wizards so special. Once you find it, once you hear its song and feel its rhythm, you can pull at all the wonderful, colorful threads that make up the weave of magic connecting all the worlds. It’s pretty cool,” she added with a grin.

Caleb had amazement plastered all across his face. “Tolle,” he whispered. “…wow.”

Fjord looked between the two of them, slightly awkwardly, and coughed. They both turned towards him.

“Yeah,” he said, coughing again. “Yeah, exactly. And, you know, there are other kinds of Planes too. Smaller ones.”

Caleb nodded excitedly. “Yes?” he said. “Really? Like…like what kind, Herr?”

Fjord met his gaze. “Well,” he said. “Well…maybe like the Plane of Dreams?”

Now Jester was also staring at Caleb. They both watched his bright expression with rapt attention, seeking the tiniest cracks, or the lightest glimmers of recognition.

The boy’s fascinated, oblivious smile never faltered.

“That sounds really cool!” he said cheerfully. “What does it do?”

Fjord’s shoulders slumped. Jester sighed and gave Caleb a weak grin. “Well, the Plane of Dreams is a very important one,” she said. “It’s a where we all go when we fall asleep. And where our dreams live.”

“Right,” Fjord nodded. “You know, things that aren’t real. Strong memories, and hopes, and things that you’d wish for.”

The boy nodded. “Neat!” he said. “So do I visit it when I go to sleep too?” he asked.

Jester sighed again. “Yes,” she said. “And usually, you don’t even know it.”

•

Beau and Yasha fell into a comfortable pace working the stalks with their blades, stretching their muscle-memory and directing higher thought functions to the main mission: small talk.

“So,” Beau said as conversationally as she could, “been a farmer for very long?”

Max gave a bark of laughter. “Sure,” he said. “For as long as I can remember. The fields are my home, really.”

“Have you lived here your whole life?” Yasha asked. “In this…Blumenthal?”

“Ja,” said Max. “I have never even seen another town before. I have never had reason to.”

“Really?” Beau asked. “Is it that interesting here?”

Max shook his head. “Interesting is not the word for it,” he said. “Here, you just wake up, you hit the fields, the sun goes down. Then you go home, you tell stories to your kids, you go to sleep. Really, some might consider it boring.”

Yasha blinked. “Then…then why stay?” she asked. “Why not leave?”

Max laughed. “Because that is how I like it,” he said. “This is safety, this familiarity. If I venture out into the big city, or somewhere I’ve never been, there’s too much risk. Too many unknowns.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she said eventually, “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“You should stay a while,” Max suggested. “You’re not bad with that sickle. Then you might switch to my point of view.”

“I cannot imagine Blumenthal is that good,” Yasha said, trying a different tactic.

Max shrugged. “I think it’s perfect,” he said. “It is calm, and peaceful, and the people are good. Everybody knows each other. It is the sort of town where neighbors can trust each other, and the elders help take care of the young ones, and there are plenty of playmates for your children.”

“How’s the drink?” Beau asked. “I saw a tavern in town on the way in.”

Max laughed again. “Strong,” he said. “The way Zemnians like it.”

There were a few minutes of silence, as the conversation slowly died away. Then Beau picked it up again, and asked:

“So, maybe you could tell us a bit about yourself? If, uh, that’s not weird?”

Yasha gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back only slightly painfully.

“Ja, I can do that,” Max said. “What do you want to know?”

Beau shrugged. “Uh, I guess...how old are you?” 

He paused. He seemed to think about this for a moment. “Well,” he said eventually, “much older than you, anyhow.”

Beau blinked. She looked at Yasha, who shrugged.

“Are, uh, are you married?” She asked, and Max nodded.

“What is your wife’s name?” Yasha asked.

“Clara,” he said.

There was a long moment where they both waited for him to say more. When nothing came, Beau tried again.

“What about, fuck, uh, what about your kids?” she asked.

He immediately brightened. “Sure,” he said. “My oldest daughter is Emillia. She helps around the garden and in the fields sometimes now, so she doesn’t spend as much time playing. Then after her is Charlotte, just over eight, who hangs around with the other village children. And then Lena, only three, so she spends most of her time at home.”

Beau blinked, and wondered briefly if one could get conversational whiplash.

“You, uh, you care a lot about your kids then, huh?”

“Of course,” Max said. “They are very important to me. And this is a wonderful town for children.”

“Oh,” Beau said. “Uh…okay.” And, uh, what about for those of us who ain’t planning on having any kids?” she asked.

“Oh, well, there certainly are adults like that around here somewhere,” Max shrugged. “I do not have much to say about them, personally.”

“Why?” Beau frowned “You think all people should care about carrying on their bloodlines, and shit?”

Max shook his head and laughed “Oh, no, it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just…I just…” He paused. “I don’t know, I just don’t seem to know much about them. I only really know the parents of my daughter’s friends.”

Beau and Yasha exchanged glances.

The monk tried for an expression that said: There’s something weird about every goddamn answer of his, right?

The barbarian shrugged. Her eyes said: I have no idea what’s going on.

Beau sighed, and looked back at Max. “Hey,” she said, “hey, isn’t it weird that you only know about people who’re parents?”

He blinked and frowned at her. “What?” he said. “Er…is it? I don’t, uh, I didn’t notice.”

There was another lull in the conversation. This time it was more tense, and the sound of wheat being cut down dominated the still air.

Finally, Beau sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, and faced Max again. “Excuse me,” she said. “Hair, uh, Herr Max…can I ask you a couple more questions?”

“Ja, okay,” he sighed, turning around. “But really, after this, we need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Beau said. “Can, uh, can you tell me more about yourself?”

Max gave an annoyed huff. “I am a farmer, I work in the fields! What else is there to know?”

“Fuck, man, I don’t know either!” Beau shouted. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be asking you! For the gods’ sake, you’d think the others would want to know when your goddamned birthday is! Isn’t that stupid!? When’s your birthday, huh, Max? When’s your fucking birthday?!”

Beau glared at the startled farmer, panting slightly. Yasha took a step forwards and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I think perhaps we are done for now,” she said softly. “Er…sorry for bother...”

She trailed off awkwardly when she noticed the stricken expression across Max’s face. Beau sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Look,” she said, taking a step forward, “look, sorry about that, alright? Fuck, can I give you, like, a gold piece to chill out, or what? You don’t actually have to tell me, you know.”

Max looked up, met her gaze, and shook his head. “Er…that is good, then, I think,” he said. He frowned slightly. “Because…because I think I do not know when my birthday is?”

Yasha and Beau both stared at him.

“Uh…what?” Beau asked.

Max shook his head again. He dropped his sickle and rubbed his face. “My…when is my birthday?” he asked.

Beau glanced at Yasha, who shrugged, and glanced back at him. “Uh…I don’t know?” she said. “When is it?”

Max tilted his head, as if listening to some far-off song. And then his eyes went wide, and he swiveled towards Beau with a look of intense, anguished bewilderment.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

She took a careful step forward. “When were you born?” she asked.

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Max? When were you born?”

He shook his head.

“Not even a year?”

“Nein! No, nothing! I cannot, I cannot remember!”

Yasha moved closer. “Max?” she asked softly. “We asked you this already once, but…but now please answer? What is your age?”

He met her steely gaze with fear and panic and shook his head again.

“Max? How old are you?” Beau demanded.

The man had tears running down his face now as he violently shook his head. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “I was never told! I can’t remember! I don’t know!”

“Tell me now!” Beau yelled. “Tell me right now, how old are you?!”

Max was weeping now, shoulders shaking. “Stop asking me!” he begged. “Please, please, I don’t know. Please, stop asking!”

•

And then, somewhere else almost a mile away, Caleb’s tiny form lurched off the side of the log. He collapsed face-first into the grass below.

Jester and Fjord immediately shot to their feet in a panic.

“Caleb?” Jester asked frantically. “Caleb, are you okay?”

“What’s the matter?” Fjord asked. “Kid, what’s—”

They knelt down. They froze.

Caleb was curled up into a ball, knees against his chest, clutching the sides of his head with his hands. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his breath came in huge, panting heaves. He was shaking, and crying, and worst of all, was whimpering soft, broken keens of pain.

“It hurts,” he breathed, “it hurts! Make…make it stop, it hurts!”

Jester and Fjord exchanged panicked looks.

“What hurts?” Jester asked. “What…what’s hurting you?”

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “I don’t…I don’t know!”

“Please, Caleb, can you try? Anything to help!” she cried.

He flinched, hard. “Stop asking!” he sobbed. “Stop…stop asking!”

“But, but we can’t help unless we know what the problem is,” Fjord said softly. “Please, talk to us, where’s the pain?”

Caleb inhaled sharply, and shook his head again. “No!” he said. “Not that, not that, I don’t know! Stop asking, I don’t know, Max never told me! I don’t know! Stop asking, I don’t know!”

•

From somewhere within the soft white clouds above Nott and Caduceus’s heads, there was a horrible, discordant wail.

They looked up.

They saw a massive, inky black rift rip open in the sky.

They stared for a few beats of awful, bewildered, horrified silence.

Slowly, Nott pulled out her flask and took a long, long swig.

“Well,” said Caduceus, reaching for his staff, “I suppose this means we’ll be needed after all?”

•   

And then, back in the fields, as Beau yelled and Yasha's hand carefully inched toward her greatsword, suddenly, Max's eyes went wide.

He crumpled, falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut.

He vanished into the tall grain, lost in a sea of swaying wheat.

•

welcome back!! ☕ ☕ ☕

[monqqq]

Kudos, Self. ✨👑

I just want to pat myself at the back for being this strong. Now, finally I can say. I'm a strong, independent woman. Despite all the challenges and hardships I've been through, still here I am. Fighting, being thankful and grateful for everyday that God has given me. All the heartaches and headaches I've been through. I surpassed everything by myself. And I think that is something myself I can be proud of. Its funny how people been testing me, but I handled situations calmly and classy. People have been bad and rough but still I stood up strong and straight for what is right and for what is just. For what is fair and unprejudiced. Despite all of this, Im still here. With a whole soul and a pure whole heart.

2019 thought me many things. I've learned alot from different experiences and different challenges. Met alot of people that has different point of views in life, and understood them. But most importantly what I've learn from them and from myself is self love. You can't love someone if you don't love yourself. You can't start to love someone if you dont embrace yourself. Because having self love is another meaning of you are ready to give love to people because there is so much love to give from you. I pity people who beg for love. Love shouldn't be that way. Love should be given naturally and love shouldn't be asked for. I pity people who cry for love. Ang panginoon nga nag bigay ng pagmamahal kahit hindi natin hiningi. Bakit ka mag mamaka awa sa pag mamahal na ayaw ibigay sayo? Bakit pinipilit mo yung pag mamahal na dapat natural na binibigay sayo? Naisip mo ba yun?

As i look to the people who beg for love. I thought they were pathetic. But no, nakaka awa sila. Kasi unang una hindi nila mahal ang sarili nila kaya nag mamaka awa sila sa pag ibig ng iba. Pilit nila sinisiksik ang sarili nila kasi they are too weak to handle themselves because they know hindi nila mahal or kulang ang pag mamahal nila sa sarili nila. Hindi nila kaya mag isa para mag patuloy sa araw araw, kailangan pa nila ng ibang tao para maging masaya. Yung naka depende sila sa ibang tao para maging masaya. At yung mga taong yun ang dapat natin intindihin. Dahil nakaka awa sila. Sobrang nakaka awa... Love is earned, not asked. Kaya nga may mga taong nag mamahal unconditionally diba? Yung tipong kahit walang kapalit, nag mamahal sila ng tahimik at patas. Kasi kapag mahal mo, pabor sakaniya lahat kasi ayaw mo siya mahirapan at masaktan. Kahit ikaw pa ang mahirapan at masaktan.

It takes courage and a strong soul to understand this kind of matter in life and I can say that i have that courage and strong soul because i chose to let go and understand things for the sake of other people. Maybe others won't understand and be selfish about love. Pero diba nga? "Kung sino ang mas nakaka pag isip, siya'ng dapat umintindi". My advice for those kind of people. Guys, love yourself first. Then, only by then the rest will follow.

And lastly, surrender everything to the Lord. He won't let you down. Tell everything to Him and trust him with all your heart. 2019 led me to the path which i took to be close to the Lord. There comes a moment in my life where everything is failing and everything hurts. But then, God never let me down. He never left my side. Always believe even if you dont see. Have faith of what the Lord can do. He can take as much as what you have right now and give as much as you dont have at this very moment. God is Good all the time. Trust him.

Thank you 2019! Its was indeed a roller coaster ride. But at the end of the day, What is important is I learned something and I know for a fact the things that I will do and won't this 2020. Another decade of blissful moments and wonderful blessings the Lord will give. And from 2019 I can say, Im Ready.

[rewrittenkoomie]

“That’s not the wind howling” Chapter 1.

Dealing with snow was difficult, I don’t even remember why I moved into this little honkey-tonk town to begin with.

Oh, that’s right, my folks BEGGED me to come and live nearby so they could visit their grandchild more easily. It wasn’t all bad though, the view was nice and the mountains kept the worst of the weather at bay, plus it was a pretty rural area.

There were Farms nearby that my son could visit and learn about various animals and the farmers themselves were friendly enough to let him run all his energy while playing with the foals, or even letting him pet the hatchlings. He was fascinated by the small critters that would flow and ebb around his ankles, and was ecstatic when a horse would trot up calmly to meet with him.

Personally, I loved farm animals too, but being so incredibly lazy, I knew that raising them was a  task larger than I was willing to deal with. My five year-old son would come home with stories and beg to keep some of the smaller animals, most notably chicks and ducklings. He’d been begging for weeks now, ever since the other kids all got to play with and even keep at least one pet from their parent’s farms.

His eyes had been huge, begging me silently for the opportunity to have a small life that he could coddle and nurture all of his own.

“Now, you know animals are not toys. If you have one, you have to take care of it.” He nodded emphatically, His dark brown curls bouncing off his forehead and tumbling with each movement. “You know they must be Fed multiple times daily, they need to have their area cleaned up, and you need to play with them. Plus, IF,” and I stopped, Hands on my hips, Tilting my head to drive the point home.

“IF I get a pet for you, you will be in charge of it, anything it does wrong will be your fault. You have to train it to be good. Okay?” My son’s eyes danced, his wide grin so hopeful and bright.

I didn’t stand a chance.

“I’ll be really good momma! I’ll give it baths and play with it and even take it for walks, jus’ like Genny from the Holted’s farm does with the Lambs!” He was dancing in place, so excited. He didn’t seem to care if I was getting him a dog, cat, foal or even a mouse, he just wanted a pet. Something he could nurture and be proud of.

I sighed in defeat, “Okay, but it’ll have to wait until I can talk to the farmers nearby to see if any of them are willing to let you have one of their animals okay?” He squealed with delight, tackling my legs and hugging them tight. “THANK YOU MOMMA! I’LL BE THE BESTEST PET OWNER EVER!”

He then turned and ran out the door to plow through the snow I had yet to shovel from the walkway.

Shortly after he ran off to somewhere, most likely to one of the farms that he loved to wander around, I was outside and shoveling the drifts back up to the yard. It was hard work, using muscles that I didn’t normally work out.

I was just a simple single mother, working as a receptionist at a company about three hours’ drive from home into the city round-trip. It was pretty easy work, seeing as it’s all I’d been doing for the last decade. I had moved into the Rural area to be closer to my folks, plus the classes for my son were smaller and The housing was pretty darn cheap. Even more so when my folks owned the house, and land, and let us live in the mother-in-law house. All I was required to pay was the utilities for my portion.

It was a sweet deal, and after the nasty break up with the father of my son, it was a haven. I could relax and not have to worry about what that man was doing to our child while I was working. I was also getting more time to spend with my son. He seemed to flourish with all the nature around us.

I had just finished the walkway to the garage that sat next to our little home when a big Red pickup truck pulled up next to me and rolled his window down.

“Hey there Teddy, how’s it going?” Theodore was a Farmer from a few houses down, which was an average of 5 miles away, he came to visit occasionally since he met my son and preferred to be called Teddy. His Farm in particular housed larger animals. Cows, Bulls, Horses and even a few Ostriches, I still didn’t know why or how he came across those huge birds.

“I’m all good ‘Belle, how’s Gunter?” His cocky smile always made me feel warm inside.

Theodore was one of the few Bachelors still living nearby, and was a total package deal. He was tall, around six foot five, and had thick black hair. His pale green eyes seemed to sparkle when he talked about his two great passions his farm, or food. He had the traditional Farmers’ Tan and was built like a brick house. He swore he had the money for the ‘Fancy machines’ but was convinced that they made more problems than they fixed, so almost everything was done the Old-fashioned way with sweat and muscle.

He did have a couple of four-wheelers for feeding his animals and even took my son out to go meet the herds once or twice.

“Gunter’s been begging for a pet again, and I just couldn’t say ‘no’ one more time.” I sighed as Theodore chuckled.

“’E’s a good boy! A pet would do him some good, mebbie settle ‘im down some.” I pursed my lips and shot him a look of disbelief. He just continued to smirk, then changed the subject.

“Anyway, I was wonderin’ if you’d be so kind as to feed a poor bastard for the’ night?” He took on a pleading look, clasping his hands out the window as if in prayer. I sighed again, “And here I thought you liked me cuz I’m pretty!” I giggled as his face lit up.

“Just help me with the driveway so you can park and You’re mor’n welcome to stick around.” He whooped and backed up his truck quickly, then tumbled out into the crisp snow after he’d parked on the side of the road. He quickly rummaged through the truck bed and pulled out a sturdy snow shovel and began on one end of the driveway while I started at the other.

Within the hour the whole driveway had been cleared and salted just as more snow decided to fall.

“I wonder which farm Gunter decided to wander off to this time?” I wondered out loud, Teddy shrugged and dusted off his jeans as we entered the mud room to the house.

“I’s Sure he didn’t go my way, I woulda’ spotted ‘im and brought ‘im back with me.” Teddy slipped his work boots off and we both walked into the house, rosy cheeked and sweaty.

I pulled off my jacket and rested it on the nearby chair and pulled my cell phone out of the top pocket. There were no new messages, but I sent out a text to the local Farmers asking if they’d seen my son and to let me know if they needed me to come get him. In the meantime, Teddy settled down at the kitchen counter, practically draped over the stool. He sniffed the air, drinking in the scent of the pot roast I had prepped hours ago as it bubbled in the crockpot. I smirked as he hummed to himself.

Shaking my head I pulled out the potatoes I had peeled and boiled earlier and set to mashing them. Teddy always seemed to pick the days I was making a good-old fashioned lunch or dinner to ‘pop’ over and invite himself in. I didn’t really mind, seeing as he was a gentleman and always tried to help out with things that needed fixing.

He’d helped fix the roof last summer and even helped with prepping the garden back in spring so that I could actually start growing something. I’d done the work of planting, but getting the posts in the ground and the boxes in place? All Teddy’s handiwork.

“Would you please grab one of the Pie tins from the Pantry? And the smaller bag of flour too please!” Teddy may have been relaxing, but he was quick to react when I asked for something. Soon enough I’d had all the potatoes mashed and the pie tin waiting for me on the counter.

Teddy stretched and touched the ceiling with his fingertips as he sauntered into the living room. I blushed lightly, since his stretch had pulled his T-shirt from his jeans and exposed a part of his sculpted lower back. He was deliciously handsome and Fit, if only a hunk like him was interested in a flabby wench like myself. I sighed, dashing that thought from my mind.

No man in a rural area wanted a pre-started family, especially with the kind of baggage we brought to the table.

As I put together the Apple pie, the timer on the pot roast went off and I opened it up to check how it was doing. Teddy had turned on the Radio to one of the local rock stations. I tasted the stock from around the roast and cut into the meat, checking how soft it was. It was perfect.

The potatoes had been put in the oven with some garlic and butter sauce to cook a bit more and the pie was in the smaller oven browning to perfection. I was very satisfied with myself, in less than a year, I’d learned to cook some damn-fine meals. It didn’t hurt that a lot of the women around the area traded recipes all the time. Adding to that, quite a few of the farmers would barter meat and eggs for veggies and fruit too.

My contribution was that since I went into town so often, they would trade me staple goods for exotic things from town, or fetching packages from the post office for them when I was on my way home. I loved to bring home bulk items that I could then later trade for some fresh eggs or milk.

I pulled the Mashed potatoes from the Oven to cool on the rack and arranged the Pot roast and Its fixings on a plate. When I turned to start setting up the table, there was a knock at the door. It sounded almost urgent and I wiped my hands on a towel I kept on the oven handle.

Teddy heard the rapping on the door and had emerged from the Living room, brows knit together and frowning slightly. He stood behind me as I opened up the mudroom door and unlocked the outer door. Teddy’s arms were crossed and he leaned on the doorframe as the outer door opened to a harried looking Farmer from three houses down the road to the north.

“Fredrick, what’s wrong?” I was surprised, normally Fredrick wore a sort of soft half-smile. Like he was privy to a secret and was never going to tell anyone.

His pure white hair was sticking up on all directions and he had an almost wild look to his soft brown eyes. “It’s Gunter,” He croaked, and my body went cold. Ice seemed to shoot up my spine as my stomach tightened.

“W-what about Gunter?” I whispered, Fredrick ran his hand through his hair, making it even messier. Fredrick refused to look into my eyes, and instead stared at Teddy.

“Fredrick?” I was scared, and being ignored wasn’t helping. I looked to Teddy, who was frowning and looked almost murderous. It was chilling to see the fire in his eyes, as if he was going to break the first thing he touched.

“Teddy?” I was cautious, I had seen my Ex-husband with that look, and when I’d bothered him, He’d tried to break me to soothe his anger.

Unfortunately for him, I refused to break.

Teddy clutched at his shirt and took a deep breath, leaning his head back as his eyes closed. Just as rapidly, he stepped forward and I stepped back. I pushed myself against the wall in the mud room, trying to keep from aggravating Teddy. He shoved his feet in his boots and threw on his jacket.

“Teddy.” I breathed his name, my chest tight. His shoulders where stiff and he stood with both hands fisted at his sides.

“’Belle,” He started, voice rough with what sounded like fury, “I’ll try t’ be back ‘fore sundown.” He strode forward, Fredrick rushing to his own Deep green SUV. Teddy practically stomped up to his Red pickup and seemed to rip the door open. I’d followed them outside, where the snow was gently falling around us, almost surreal.

Once he’d gotten into the vehicle, I tapped on the glass of his driver’s window. He took a moment to breathe, then rolled it down to face me. His eyes seemed to blaze, sharper and brighter than before the green even more vibrant than before.

“What happened Teddy? Please tell me!” I begged, Gunter was my baby, He’d been a complete surprise to my-then-husband and I.

I’d been elated to prove the doctors wrong, as I’d been told I was infertile only a few months prior, but my husband had been furious. He hadn’t wanted a child at all. Not only had Gunter proven the doctors wrong about my fertility, but they proved them wrong about my ability to carry at all. I had carried him successfully until two weeks before my due date, the day my husband first started beating me.

It had been a shock to have the man I’d married hit me so hard. Sure, we’d argued a bit, but that was normal and we’d always found a common ground and made amends. Something about having a child drove my husband crazy and he’d finally snapped.

We’d been arguing about where we’d move to after he’d gotten his promotion. He wanted to move to the East coast, but I was adamant about moving to the Midwest. At the time we’d lived a bit between the two. I wanted to be closer to family, both his and mine, and He wanted to start living more ‘in-style’.

I’d refused to move with him to the East coast, and He hit me. I was so shocked that I had frozen on the floor where I landed and just stared at him.

It had taken me only a week to decide to leave him the first time.

We’d made up for it later and had struggled to cope, but in the end All I asked of him, was to leave us alone. I didn’t want his money, or his name, just the child we’d created together. He agreed and signed the paperwork that released me from the nightmare of being his Wife.

Teddy was tense, and I thought he was going to lash out at me for getting in his way. He moved his left arm quickly and I flinched back, anticipating a smack, but it never came. I had closed my eyes reflexively, but cracked them open to see Teddy with his arm held out, a strained look on his face and the green of his eyes pale again. He gripped the steering wheel with his right hand so hard that It creaked, and he gently held his left hand to my face.

“ ‘Belle, I will never, ever hurt you on purpose.”  He practically growled as his hands felt rough against my skin but he rubbed my cheek so gently, as If I was made of spun glass, just waiting to fall apart. Tears were welling from my eyes and I was on the verge of bawling, I just wanted to know what was happening to my son!

As if he heard my mental cry, he cupped my chin once more, and gently pulled me to look up into his eyes. The green had lit up once more, and seemed to search inside mine for something.

“I’m sorry ‘Belle.” He whispered, “I cain’t tell you what you want to know.” He took a deep breath, releasing my chin. He then leaned against the doorframe and propped himself out the window to kiss me.

His lips were softer than I’d imagined, and the rough feel of his stubble was almost delightful, making warmth spread down into my core. My hands reached up and I took a step forward wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him in deeper. He groaned against my mouth and reached out again with his left hand and mixing his fingers into my wavy blonde hair, his right keeping him steady In the window. I stood there like a statue, reveling in the feel of his warm mouth and dancing tounge.

Suddenly he parted from me, and groaned while shaking his head. I was blinking, still overwhelmed with everything and in complete disbelief. Teddy just kissed me.

“’’Belle, stay here. Please.” His eyes still blazed, but there was some gold creeping in, he looked almost feral. I nodded dumbly, not thinking at all.

“Don’t open the door after sunset, and do’n open it ‘till after Sunrise.” I was transfixed on Teddys’ face, as I nodded again, and I opened my mouth to question why, when he shook his head once and grimaced.

“I cain’t tell you darlin’, not yet.” His hands were shaking, and he finally put his truck into gear. I stepped back, finally realizing I’d been standing there longer than a few minutes and shivered.

“I’ll tell you what I can, when I can. Jus’ …sit tight, I’ll find yer boy and git him home safe. That’s a Promise!” He pulled out of the driveway and directed himself northward, to Fredrick’s farm. The Truck squealed in protest at changing gears so quickly, from reverse to drive and then being pushed to dive through the fresh snow at a high speed.

I stood there shivering until his truck faded from sight into the woods that surrounded my home. It was a few moments before I turned to go back inside, and by then the pie I’d been preparing was ruined, and I flipped the oven off. The pot roast was now dry and even the potatoes were cold.

So much for Dinner.

I was still in a state of shock, Gunter was God-knows-where in some sort of trouble, and Teddy had kissed me. Between the Elation of that kiss and the Fear of losing my only child, I was frozen. I stumbled into the living room, ignoring the food or the mess it caused in favor of hopefully making sense of what was going on.

I knew when I had moved in only two years ago, that this town was small and had its oddities. My folks had always told me to check the eaves for bats, make sure that there were no animal tracks around the house and to water the toadstools that circled the small house I lived in.

The bats and the tracks I could understand, but the mushrooms? I didn’t question my folks, and did as they said. Once or twice I found coyote tracks and raccoon tracks around the house and showed Gunter how to distinguish them from one another.

He was practically a natural at picking up practical knowledge like that. He even went so far as to have someone teach him to make plaster molds of the more interesting prints he found and asked to keep them on a shelf in his room. To this day he had well over a dozen tracks, some canine, a few feline, and a few deer tracks too.

I was still shivering.

I wasn’t cold anymore, but I couldn’t stop shivering. There was something my mother had told me before they’d suggested Gunter and I move out to live with them.

“There’s quite a few tall tales around this little town, most of them having to do with werewolves. I know it seems far-fetched, but these folks take those tales seriously.”

Werewolves, was Teddy insinuating that they were real? That Gunter had been caught up with them? Or did something terrible happen and no one wanted to be the bearer of Bad news? I had started scratching my arms in a nervous fit, only realizing I was doing so when I felt warm liquid running down the rest of my arm.

I’d scratched right through my skin, leaving me bleeding. I swore to myself,

“This isn’t getting me anywhere!” I stomped over to the bathroom and tended to my arm. Once that was finished, I still felt the need to be ‘doing’ something.

Teddy had been pretty adamant about me staying indoors once the Sun set. And a quick glace outside had me guessing that I had about an hour before I needed to close myself in for the night.

Quickly, I put on my thickest sweater and leggings, hoping that I could make it outside and back before the stipulated time. I rushed through the mud room and yanked on my knee-high boots a colorful scarf, and my parka jacket.

After thinking about it, I returned to the living room and reached up to the doorway where the Remington 700 was perched just for safety’s sake. I checked the barrel from the loading mechanism, and it looked all clear. Pausing by the closet nearest the door to the mudroom, I rifled through the jackets until I reached the back wall where the dial and handle was visible for the safe where I kept the ammunition.

A quick turn of the dial and the safe was open. I only took five bullets from the box and loaded them into the Rifle. After which I shut the safe and locked it back into place.

Slinging the rifle over my shoulder carefully, I headed out the front door.

I had checked the doors to the house and had locked both of them. The mud room was never locked, to shelter people from the cold or heat depending on the season. If Gunter came home and everything was locked, he wouldn’t be in danger staying in the mud room.

I turned to the Road in front of the house, took a deep breath, and stepped beyond the circle of dormant Toadstools around the house. It was going to take time, but If I walked, I was less likely to miss hearing screaming or shouts. I had started my trek facing North. Since that was where the men had run off to, that’s the most likely area that Gunter was.

I quickly realized, no matter how motivated I was, I was not physically ready to make this trek. I was breathing heavily, and sweating terribly. My knees and feet had already started to hurt, and when I glanced behind me, I couldn’t see my house anymore. The sun, however, was just touching the skyline. I was just getting close to the neighboring farmstead.

The Nylors home was ranch-style and honestly very pretty, if a bit more rustic than I liked. I trudged up the shoveled walkway and stopped to catch my breath before I attempted to knock on the door. Their Mud room was much larger, and much nicer than mine, but then again, they had a larger family and had also been living here much longer.

I finally found my breath and knocked on the house door after stomping out the snow from my boots. I heard some scuffling, and then heard a creak as someone stepped up to the door.

“Who ‘dere?” came the gruff voice of Pa Nylor, The Patriarch of the family. He was the oldest living person in the town and was also the only person who could handle any animal regardless of its temper.