#its more of an olive green than the deep forest green of my bedroom so it should go okay in the yellow lounge

[artemisbarnowl]

I have a suuuper cute pink corderout couch on loan from my sister in melb (its the smaller of 2 piece lounge suite, she was using the bigger one and will use both when her new house is finished in 18 months) but its not right for me or my house in terms of functional design. The arms and back are very wide so it takes up a lot of space, and not much of that space can be used to lounge or flop or whatever, especially with squared off arms that have pointy corners. Its also too low and soft for me, a tallish person who doesnt like to sit in but dents. The lowness also adds to the solid chunky look. Anyway its cute and free so fine until i find perfect forever couch but now ive found one (its expensive) thats the same length but with thinner rounded arms, a bit taller and more free space underneath and i want to get it but because i live in country town they dont have one here. I can get it shipped in 20 weeks (: also i have to figure out how to get this pink one back to my sister.

[opheliacassiopea]

CHAPTER 10.

TW: Mentions of a weapon.

Landing back in Quantico that evening was a welcome feeling, the few hours of sleep you managed to get on the plane making little difference in rejuvenating your body and you were practically on auto-pilot for the short twenty-five minute drive back to your apartment. Typing in your alarm code, you quickly tidy your things away, securing your weapon and your credentials. It might seem odd to start tidying your apartment when your body is aching all over, and you’re practically dead on your feet, but it calms you, tethers you to some form of normalcy. So you cleaned the small amount of mess you’d left in your rush to get to work once you’d gotten the call to come in, you weren’t really a messy person anyway so it didn’t take long. Apartment cleaned, you set about fixing yourself dinner and hopping into the shower, turning the water to the highest temperature, the hot water bringing you comfort, easing your sore shoulder and side as you wash away the stress of the last few days.

Despite how tired you are, you fear that sleep won’t come to you easily, you had a lot to think about, your mind still focused on the case that technically still wasn’t over as the paperwork hadn’t been completed, and of course you couldn’t help but think of Hotch, what had happened between the two of you. Realistically you knew nothing would come of it, but that didn’t mean you could suddenly stop thinking about it altogether, it was incredibly good sex after all, and the sweet moments afterwards were something you couldn’t forget any time soon. Clambering into bed and getting comfortable under the covers, you find that sleep washes over you quickly, leading you into a dreamworld. Many hours later you awaken from a peaceful sleep the next morning, feeling well rested and slightly less sore than the day before and decide to make the most of your morning off, choosing to change the bedsheets and open all the windows to let in some fresh air. Along with the rest of the team, you were having to head into the office later that afternoon to fill out the paperwork for the recent case in Bend. 

Much like your appearance, you look pride in your apartment looking the very best it could be, and much like your appearance, your apartment truly resembled you too. It was a fairly decent sized apartment, the reasonably sized living room decked out with fashionable, yet vintage looking sofas and chairs that were situated around the antique coffee table that faced toward the TV. Arguably the best part of the living room was that in the cupboards of the small coffee table, was a small projector that allowed you to play some of your favourite films, or productions of your favourite books and it was something you often did on your days off. Stacks of books, plants and knickknacks lined the shelves that covered many of the walls, all arranged to look neat and tidy, rather than cluttered. The back corner of the room was home to your record player and cart of vinyl's, next to your beautiful wooden piano, plants and candles covering the top. There were many smaller lamps dotted around on the side tables throughout the room, small trails of fairy lights used to accentuate certain accessories.

The back wall of your bedroom was painted in your favourite colour, a deep forest green, your bed placed directly in front of it whilst the rest of the walls were exposed brick, which was the main reason you’d fallen in love with this particular apartment. There was a decent sized wardrobe along with a full length mirror, chest of draws and a small vanity, all home to strategically placed plants, accessories and yet more fairy lights to make the room warm and inviting. You used the smaller box room at the end of the hallway as an office so had decided to keep the colour scheme fairly neutral since it also doubled as a spare room, but was still filled with yet more books and little knickknacks that you absolutely adored and truly made your apartment feel like home and the walls were adorned with your various achievements. Your bathroom could be described as a jungle, multiple plants lived on the window and hung down from the ceiling in macramé pots, loving that it made the room feel more open. The kitchen was relatively simple, a decent sized dining table with benches and chairs always sporting fresh flowers in the middle and the windowsill lined with various cookbooks you’d yet to even open. In short, you loved your apartment, it was your sanctuary, where you felt safest and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when it came to your home.

Filling the rest of your morning with errands and odd jobs like laundry and food shopping, your morning off scurries by in a hurry and you’re soon headed back to Quantico, ready to speed through the necessary paperwork and potentially catch up on any other administrative tasks you needed to complete. The bullpen is relatively quiet upon your arrival and as you walk through the glass doors, you can already see Reid halfway done with whatever he’s working on, smiling to yourself you stop by the breakroom to grab yourself a tea. 

“I’m surprised that you’re here on time, you looked dead on your feet yesterday” Prentiss greets you as you enter, handing you your mug from the cupboard.

“How charming of you” you rebuke, swatting her on the shoulder as you take the mug. “I feel way better after a decent night's sleep” you tell her as you finish making your drink.

Sensing she wants to say something you turn to face her as she begins to speak up. “That case, I know it was your first of its kind and it was pretty intense, I just want to check in with you”. Concern was apparent in all of her features and as always you appreciated how the team looked out for you, for each other.

“Seriously, I’m fine, all good I promise. Not looking forward to sorting out this paperwork, the reports are gonna be much more complicated, and with that being said, we better get a move on” you say as you exit the breakroom and head over to your desk, freshly made tea in hand. 

After a couple of hours of completing various forms and case reports, you begin to bring the report you were working on to a close and as you came to the end of the sentence you were writing, you lean back and flick your gaze to Hotch’s office to find that he was already looking at you. Sending him a small smile, which he returns immediately, you dip your head down and continue working the day away, offering to help JJ with some of her extra case consults.

Finally the weekend rolls around and you’re buzzing with excitement, once a month the team meets for breakfast in a local diner and if you’re being honest, it’s one of your favourite pastimes with the team. It’s laidback, it’s easy and you relish in the simplicity of it. It’s not even been ten minutes since you’ve all sat down at one of the large round booths at the back of the diner, conversation flowing; Spencer telling Emily and JJ about traditions for new homeowners, Derek and Penelope swapping office gossip, whilst you’re engaged in a conversation with Dave and Hotch about the upcoming FBI triathlon in a few months when you’re interrupted by your phone ringing.

“SSA Paisley Selwyn” you speak into the phone, wondering why nobody else was taking a phone call, let alone a phone call from a bureau phone number; normally the entire team would receive a phone call if you were all out of the office to inform you of a new case or potential emergency. 

“This is Heather Price, Chief of the Crime Translation Unit. We’re in need of a translator for a case we’re working and as a language and linguistics expert, you’d be the perfect fit to help”

she tells you over the phone and you’re slightly unsure, you’d heard of the unit a few times in passing, but never been involved. This might strike an outsider as odd considering as the woman rightly stated, you did specialise in linguistics, but the BAU appealed to you much more.

“I’m flattered, but is there nobody else that can fill in for the case?” you query, you loved your work, but sometimes you needed a break and you weren’t overly keen on leaving breakfast with the team. With such bizarre schedules and hectic jobs, sometimes dealing with unspeakable things, you welcomed any normality that you can find. For that morning the eight of you aren’t FBI agents, you’re just eight friends out for breakfast and today that’s exactly what you needed. 

“Unfortunately not no. We’re keen to make use of your profiling abilities too. I’ll see you here in no less than forty minutes” she informs you, hanging up shortly after. Letting out a small sigh, you twist with the two pendants hanging around your neck, you’d been looking forward to this morning since the moment last month's breakfast ended and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the team. 

Seeing your slightly crestfallen facial expression as you place your phone on the table, Derek is the first to question you. “What’s going on, Lee? Who was that?” concern evident on his face.

“Heather Price, she’s requested my help on a translation case” you tell him, looking down at the table as you do and when you look back up, you have the entire eyes of the team focused on you, a range of facial expressions on show; JJ and Emily look slightly surprised, Spence and Dave looked proud, whereas Hotch’s expression never falters, staying stoic as ever.  

Spencer’s eyebrows suddenly shoot up. “The translation unit? Isn’t that where Oliver WIlliams works?” he questions and you know he already knows the answer, his voice raising slightly being the dead giveaway and despite your slight annoyance at having to leave you can’t help but laugh at him.

“Don’t act like you don’t already know that, you’re not that smooth, Spence. I’ll tell him you said hi” you tell him, through Derek's confused expression only makes you laugh all the more, clearly he hadn’t been clued in on Spencer’s slight crush. Collecting yourself, you turn your attention to the brightly dressed woman to your left.

Penelope however, looked outraged that you had to leave. “What?! Now?! But it’s your day off, you can’t miss our breakfast, you’ve been looking forward to this for ages! Is there really nobody else they can call?”. Penelope exclaims, waving her hands as she expresses her annoyance at the interruption. Arguably, Penelope valued these outings with the team more than the rest of you might have done, working back in her office to perform her technical magic whilst the rest of you were out in the field, or even another state, left her somewhat isolated and therefore occasionally missing out of the odd inside joke so times like these were perfect for filling her in on any missed gossip and it broke your heart to see her upset at the change in plans.

“I know, I know, sorry PG, we’ll just have to do something another time” you tell her, kissing her cheek as you begin to gather your things in order to leave. Standing up, you bid the rest of the team a hurried goodbye, hearing the end of their conversation as you go.

“How many languages does she even speak? I lose track of her sometimes” JJ questions, though you can tell she’s joking and it’s Reid who answers.

“Three; French, Spanish and Italian. Though if you count sign language, it would be four, which is marginally impressive because statistically speaking..”.

Quickly swinging by your apartment to pick up your weapon and credentials, you decided against changing out of your very casual outfit, this was meant to be your day off after all. 

It was an odd feeling riding the elevator to a different floor, nerves building in your stomach for whatever it was you were about to work on. Stepping out of the elevator and taking a deep breath, you’re greeted by who you assume to be the woman you spoke with on the phone. “Unit Chief Heather Price, nice to meet you, please, come this way” she introduces herself to you with a welcoming smile, gesturing for you to follow her to her office.

“As I mentioned on the phone, we’re in need of an translator, specifically for Italian translations. I realise that your primary work for the bureau isn’t in fact translating, but you’ve come highly recommended to us and we think your knowledge of language and linguistics, along with your profiling abilities would prove to be an incredibly useful asset for this case” she informs you, handing you a brown folder that clearly contains the case information that you flip open and start to read over, leaning back on one of the office chairs when there’s a knock at the door.

“You wanted to see me?” the voice questions. Head snapping up from the file in your hand, you see that the voice belongs to a male detective and you immediately placed him to be Oliver Williams thanks to Spencer’s descriptions. He’d confided in you about his small crush during

one of the late night sessions in the library; the two had met around a month ago when the team was working a local case and in order to solidify a theory you and he were working on, Reid had gone to the translation office to collect a transcription manual and bumped into the man and since then the two had been buying each other coffee

“Ah, yes I did” Price tells him, ushering him into the room. “This is Dr Paisley Selwyn, I requested her help on this case as you know”. Pushing yourself up from the arm of the chair, you lean forward to shake his hand and the two of you exchange pleasantries and you can tell that the both of you will get on well as Price starts going over the case plan, explaining that 

essentially the two of you would be left to your own devices, taking the lead on the case and she would only be stepping in when it came to the interrogation of the suspect. 

Following Williams back out to the larger desk spaces, the two of you begin working the case, starting over from the very beginning, and coming up with entirely new strategies regarding everything from the translations of smaller articles of evidence, to various interview methods and spoken translations. Eventually you found yourself working in a rhythm with Williams, discovering that the two of you had similar methods in translating which sped the process along and soon you found yourself enjoying the work you were doing; applying theories, methods and techniques you hadn’t used since doing your masters degree and it came as an easy reminder as to why you loved working with language. When it came time for the interrogation of the suspect, it wasn’t hard to tell that both Price and Williams were impressed with your translation skills, picking up on the smallest changes and inconsistencies that eventually brought the case to a close at around eleven o’clock in the evening. 

Now you were sat with Williams filling out the huge stack of files for the case, because you weren’t officially part of the unit, there was more paperwork than usual and by the time you were both done and finally out the door, it was pushing midnight. Walking to your cars, the two of you conversed like you’d known each other for a lot longer than a day and you called across the car park to him “Oi, Williams, Spence told me to tell you hi” which caused him to smile from ear to ear and blush a deep pink and you smiled to yourself as you made your way home, singing along to the radio as you drove.

A/N: I can’t believe I’ve written 10 chapters of this fic already! Tried making this a slightly shorter chapter as the past few have been quite long. Don’t forget you can follow along and read the story over on my Wattpad: @opheliacassiopea

As always, let me know what you think; any feedback is welcome!🖤

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Bubble Bath

“Everyone was happy and merry. Only Little John felt the beast bit sad. ‘Now Robin has such a lovely wife, he will not need his friends anymore,’ he said sorrowfully to himself.”

Felicity didn’t even have to look into the book as she was reading the story out for Addie. In the past six months, whenever Felicity had put Addie to bed, she had insisted to have one of her many Robin Hood stories read out for her. That was why Felicity could recite them from her memory by now.

Usually, Addie mumbled some words to make the story sound even more like it was about Oliver. She would say that it didn’t take place in England, but in Starling City. She would insist that he hadn’t gotten married to Maid Marian, but to Queen Felicity. She would also state that Little John just had to be Uncle John because, just like Little John, her uncle John was a hulk of a man.

Tonight, Emmy was fast asleep. After the long hours they had spent at Thea and Roy’s loft, celebrating Robbie’s second birthday, she had passed out before they had been halfway through the story. Felicity knew that Addie would immediately wake up if Felicity didn’t read the story to the end though.

“But Maid Marian saw that he looked sad, and guessed why, so she talked kindly to him, and soon he was as merry as the rest. They sang and danced and played, and no one seemed to tire.”

Felicity moved her hand from Addie’s back to her head. Her fingertips moved through her curly hair, brushing against her scalp. Addie sighed contently and snuggled her cheek even more against the top of Felicity’s chest. Felicity couldn’t see all of her face, but what she saw of her daughter looked utterly content.

Sometimes, Felicity made a little fun of Oliver for being so sappy when it came to the kids growing up too fast. Still, she couldn’t deny that there were moments, moments like this, when she felt the same way. She loved lying in bed with her kids and having them snuggle up to her while she was reading them a bedtime story. In a couple of years, neither of them would want her to read them a bedtime story anymore.

“So this happy day came to an end. The red sun sank behind the trees. The birds slept, and all the forest was silent, only the bright stars were awake, and watched over Robin and his band.”

As the story was getting towards its end, Felicity felt how tired she was too. Having those big Arrow Family parties was always nice because they didn’t spend nearly enough time together. At least outside of the bunker, there was never enough time to spend together. Between their work there and their normal jobs, it wasn’t easy finding time as a normal family.

As nice as those afternoons were, they always left Felicity exhausted. Making sure the kids didn’t overeat with cake and didn’t get into a fight about all the toys while also taking care that they didn’t exhaust Hawk too much, wasn’t exactly easy. After days like this, Felicity wondered how she had the energy to manage a company like Queen Incorporated.

“Robin and Marian lived together for a long, long time and were very, very happy. They lived so happily together and loved each other so much that ‘to love like Robin Hood and Maid Marian’ came to be a proverb. And to this day, in the place where Maid Marian lived before she went to the Green Wood, and where she was buried when she died, they give a prize each year to the man and wife who have lived most happily together. The End.”

As quietly as possible, Felicity closed the book. Continuing to brush her fingertips through Addie’s hair, she put the book to the bedside table and snuck out from the weight of Addie’s body. She rested Addie’s head in the pillow gently and bend over her to place a gentle kiss on her daughter’s temple.

“Goodnight, Baby.”

Felicity switched off the light and headed towards the door. Although Addie was so deep asleep, she didn’t dare to walk any differently than on the tips of her toes. She was sure that one little noise would be enough to pull Addie from the depth of her sleep and make her demand another bedtime story since she wasn’t asleep yet.

When Felicity stepped onto the single floorboard that wasn’t perfectly in place, causing it to cause the smallest of a noise, she froze.

“Mama?”

It took a lot from Felicity to bite back a cry of frustration. Getting Addie to fall asleep was anything but easy because she loved to fight sleep. Sometimes, she would lie awake for hours and bombard her parents with questions. Oliver had once fallen asleep in the meantime, so Addie had just pulled her blanket over him, kissed him goodnight and moved into her parents’ bed. She was not an easy girl to put to bed.

“Yes?”

Felicity did her best to smile at Addie patiently, hoping that maybe she was getting an easy way out of this somehow after all.

“You and daddy live most happily together?”

At that, Felicity’s smile grew incredibly warm. She loved how much the kids loved their parents’ love for each other if that made sense. Felicity knew that she wasn’t without failure as a mother, and Oliver wasn’t without failure as a father either although Felicity thought that he was pretty damn close. No matter how many failures they might have, they had showed their kids what real love looked like and that might be the most important lesson a kid had to lean to find happiness.

“The most happily together there ever has been.” Felicity smiled and blew her daughter a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

With that, Addie rolled onto her side and curled up under her blanket. She closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep instantly. It had to be a gift to fall asleep that quick once you allowed yourself to fall asleep.

Felicity continued her way to the door. She shot a brief look back over her shoulders before she reached out for the light switch and-

“Mama?”

Felicity took in a deep breath, reminding herself that Addie was not even three years old. She was still a toddler. She loved to delay falling asleep.

“Yes, Addie?”

When Felicity turned around to Addie once more, she saw that her daughter was looking at her with wake eyes. Felicity almost expected her to come up with some meaningful question that would take hours to answer.

“Leave the door ajar, please?”

Felicity smiled with relief. That was a question that was quick to answer.

“I will,” she promised. “Night, Baby.”

“Night, Mama.”

With that, Felicity switched off the light and stepped outside. Just like promised, she left the door ajar instead of closing it completely. Some light from the hallway fell into Addie’s room that way, and Felicity knew that it gave he daughter the feeling of safety.

Sucking in a deep breath, Felicity turned towards the bedroom and strolled into that direction. She pulled her hair tie from her hair, making her blonde curls fall down onto her shoulders. She combed the strands with her fingers. It felt incredibly good to have it released from the strict ponytail she was always wearing.

All she really wanted now was to go to bed. She couldn’t wait to crawl under the blanket, have Oliver covering her with the warmth of his body and fall asleep to his soft breath against the top of her chest. She was so used to that feeling now that she could barely sleep without it.

To Felicity’s surprise, Oliver wasn’t lying in bed. Usually, he was already waiting for her to come to bed when it was her turn to put Addie to bed. Tonight, there was only Hawk. He was already fast asleep, lying across the mattress with his legs stretched out, and snored contently.

Smiling, Felicity walked past him to the bedroom. She was already reaching for the zipper at the back of her dress when she put a foot into the bathroom and stopped.

“Hey.”

Felicity perked up an eyebrow, taking in the sight of her thoroughly. Oliver was sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by what looked like a million bubbles as the bath additive had built a thick layer of foam around him. He had leaned back, looking utterly content as he looked at her over the rim of his wine glass.

“Hi.”

For the break of a second, Felicity’s gaze turned away from Oliver. She caught sight of the bottle of red wine that was placed on the rim of the bathtub.

“Is that a Lafite Rothchild?”

“1982,” Oliver replied, nodding his head proudly, “for my wife just the best.”

Felicity walked over to the bathtub and sat down on the rim of it. She grabbed the bottle of wine, turning it in her hand to take a look at the label. Indeed, it was her absolutely favorite kind of wine. By now, there shouldn’t be many bottles left and those that were still available had to be over the top expensive.

Besides, Oliver usually restrained from drinking. Since Dr. Rosario had advised him to restrain from drinking any alcohol, he had barely touched any. He was sparing those few times that he drank after all for special occasions.

“I thought that tonight was the right night for this little treasure.” Oliver put his glass of wine to the side and moved his hand to her calves, so his fingertips could move up and down there slowly. “William’s with Audrey. Emmy is sleeping at John’s and Lyla’s. Tommy and Millie are at Tommy’s and Laurel’s. Addie and Hawk are asleep.”

A little time just for themselves when they could be almost sure that they wouldn’t be disturbed really sounded like the perfect timing for this wine.

“I liked to take a bath with you when you were sick, so I thought tonight called for a repetition. It’s a nice way to conclude this evening a calm way.”

“And the delicious way.” Felicity waved with the bottle of wine in her hand. “Like what’s better than wine?”

“Your naked husband?”

Felicity snorted, shooting Oliver a quick glance. Apparently, he wasn’t too happy with her answer because he had his eyes narrowed at her.

“What are you-“

Before she got to ask what was on his mind, Oliver snapped the bottle of wine from her hands, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into the warm water. Both his arms wrapped around her tightly, making sure she got completely soaked.

“Oliver!”

As much as she tried to stay serious while she protested, she couldn’t prevent an amused chuckle to fall from her lips. She didn’t fight his arms for long. Instead, she relaxed against him and let him hold her for a moment.

In a lot of ways, she and Oliver still behaved like teenagers that had just fallen in love. When it was just them, they knew they could just give into all the butterflies that were still fluttering in their stomachs whenever they were together. Time had changed a lot about their relationship, but that feeling of being head over heels in love with each other had never gone away.

Resting her head back against Oliver’s shoulder, she looked at his face. Oliver’s eyes were already directed at her, taking her in. The gentle smile on his lips told her that he was as content as he could possibly be.

“Happy now?”

Oliver grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “Very.”

Even if Felicity had wanted to, she was unable to bite back the smile she felt pulling at the corners of her lips. When Oliver was happy, she was happy. It was impossible for her to feel any different. Their souls were so connected that neither of them could feel anything without making the other feel it too.

Straightening up a little, she brushed a kiss against the underside of Oliver’s jaw. She lifted her hands over her head in a silent request. Oliver didn’t have to be asked twice. He got what she wanted immediately. He lowered the zipper of her dress and pulled it over her head. He opened the clasp of her bra and tugged down her panties.

When Felicity leaned back against Oliver’s chest this time, she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes with a content sigh.

The water embraced her in warmth. The flowery scent of the bath additive almost made her feel a little tired. With Oliver’s half erect cock resting against her sex, she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep though. Maybe, once she had regained some energy, they would change the atmosphere of the situation. Right now, it just wasn’t about sex.

A low chink made her open her eyes. Smiling, she took the glass of her favorite red wine that Oliver offered and clinked her glass with his before she took a sip. The wine tasted like heaven, even better than she remembered from the last glass she had had years ago.

Oliver took her glass and put it back to the edge of the bathtub. He wrapped both of his arms around her shoulders and rested his lips against her temple. His head dipped forward. His nose pushed into her hair, breathing her in. Felicity put her hands to his forearms and snuggled her cheek against his bicep.

For a long moment, it felt like there was only them in the world. There was just this bathtub, their glasses of wine and them. Right now, that was everything Felicity wanted and needed.

“We didn’t have much time for each other lately, did we?”

Felicity tried to figure out when she and Oliver had had a really quiet moment just for themselves. The only thing that came to her mind was when they had used the rest of the evening after all kids had been in bed to watch some old videos they had recorded when the kids has been younger. That was already seven weeks ago though.

“No, we didn’t.”

Of course they had spent a lot of time together, but they had mostly done so as mother and father or as partners in the bunker, a couple of times even as the mayor and his first lady or the mayor and the owner of one of the city’s wealthiest companies. The times they had been able to spend together as husband and wife had been limited though, mostly little moments they had stolen between other things to do. It didn’t do anything to distance them from one another because their mutual feelings were just too strong for that. Still, it made them realize how much they needed each other as soulmates.

Felicity turned her head, so she could look Oliver in the eyes. She could see there that he had missed her as much as she had missed him. Within the last seven weeks, they might not have noticed it because they hadn’t been exactly separated, but it was obvious now.

“We have to make more time for each other,” Felicity whispered, “we have to make more time for things like this.”

Oliver nodded. “Definitely.”

Releasing a long breath, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. Felicity watched his face closely and saw how content he was feeling now. Maybe something inside of him had felt that not everything was the way it was supposed to be.

“Maybe we should establish date nights,” Oliver suggested eventually, pulling back just enough to look at her, “nights that are just for us.”

“Date nights.”

Felicity repeated the words and felt the corners of her lips tugging at hearing them. Technically, she and Oliver had never really dated. Their first date had ended in an explosion and torn them apart. A few months later, she had showed up at his doorstep and told him that they would be together whether he wanted to or not. During the years they had been together, they had gone out on some date-like things, but they had never had a true date night the way other couples had.

Oliver frowned slightly as she didn’t answer.

“Is that stupid?”

“No.” Felicity smiled and lifted a hand to his cheek. Her fingertips stroked through his stubble while her thumb rested against his dimple. “Date nights sound great. I love that.”

“Okay.” Oliver’s smile matched hers. “Good.”

“We just need to make room in our schedules to make it work.”

Oliver nodded his head. “What about every other Tuesday? We are always off from Arrow duty on Tuesday, at least if there aren’t any emergencies. Raisa isn’t off on Tuesday nights, so she can make sure the kids go to bed at a reasonable time, while we are out for our date.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Felicity smiled. “We will make it work.”

“We will make it work.”

Their promise was everything they needed to know that they would indeed make it work. There would always be times that they wouldn’t be able to make it work because life, especially their life, was unpredictable. There would always be times that they would just need to prioritize other things. Just making this promise of always doing the best they could to make time for each other was enough though.

“I really missed you,” Felicity whispered, “I missed being in your arms like this.”

“Yeah.” Oliver chuckled breathlessly. “I mean I love our kids. I love the family we have created, but at least once in a while, I selfishly want you all for myself.”

“I feel the same way.” Felicity sank a little deeper into the water, snuggling even closer to Oliver. “Hence, we should stay here for a little longer because we definitely have to share each other with Hawk if we leave the bathtub.”

“I guess we will stay in here forever then.”

Smiling, Felicity turned, so her chest was pressed to Oliver’s. She rested her head right over his heart with a sigh and closed her eyes, thinking about how content she was if she got caught in this moment and would live here forever.

“Forever sounds nice,” she whispered sleepily, “really nice.”

Oliver leaned his lips against the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her. “No, it doesn’t. It sounds perfect.”

* * *

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[mamep]

The Forging of the Legend: A Prologue to The Legend of Zelda

I wrote an almost-8,000 word fanfic to try and give the original Legend of Zelda game some context and backstory. Also, it’s my first real fanfic. While I did add a handful of things that were not mentioned at all in the original two games and their accompanying material, this story diverges from the source material in a couple of small ways.

It can also be read on AO3, linked here! Otherwise, it’s below the cutoff.

(CW: graphic violence, mild gore, warfare)

”The Forging of the Legend”

by mamep

--

“One, two!” a man said, his voice matched with the strikes of his wooden sword. “Link, keep your eyes up!” He laughed alongside the forest’s summer breeze. Eventually, the man raised his weapon up high, and the boy froze at the sight. It was too heavy, too quick, and the boy was disarmed with the blow landing on his shoulder.

Link was only ten years old and could barely keep up with his father’s sweeping attacks, who stood over him with the end of his wooden sword put in the ground, offering his hand. Link took hold of it, and was pulled up faster than he expected, almost losing his breath just as quickly as when he was blown back.

“That was too fast,” Link said, still grimacing and holding his left shoulder. “Can we take a break?”

“Of course,” said his father, “but not for too long. Here, have a swig of this.” Reaching behind his back, he gave his son a waterskin, unlatching the top. Link noticed it wasn’t the waterskin at front of his belt that he usually drank from. “Come on now, we haven’t got all day.”

Link gingerly took a sip from it, reeling from the aftertaste.

“Haha! It’ll do that to you,” his father said. “Alright, show it to me.”

The boy pulled back the sleeve of his olive roughspun tunic, revealing the fresh bruise on his shoulder, just starting to redden.

“It tingles,” Link said. “But it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The boy’s father smirked. “It’s special water, from a spring deep in the woods. They say it’s got fairy dust mixed in, and it’s handy for pain and wounds.”

“It tastes funny,” Link mumbled, paying little attention, but he drank again.

“Alright, alright! Not too much!” the boy’s father said, taking the waterskin back. “I went through a lot of trouble getting to that spring. Come on, let’s continue.”

“Father, why do we have to do this?” Link groaned. The water healed his shoulder, but the young boy was still tired, and there was yet target practice after this.

Link’s father lost his smile in the wind, and he knelt down to match his son’s height. “Because I fear for you, my boy. You must be able to protect yourself, to not fall in the face of danger. Courage when it matters most.”

Link could only stare back into his father’s eyes, wondering at what he meant.

__

High in a tower of the decrepit Hyrule Castle stood Princess Zelda, looking over her realm from a small balcony. The sun shone brightly, revealing all from the crags of the Death Mountain Range to the glimmering coasts of the Great Hyrulean Sea and beyond. However, a frown made itself apparent on the princess, and she sighed deeply.

“My princess, what bothers you?” said an old woman, whose voice carried some whimsy. She tended to the hearth in the princess’s chamber, one she had taken up use of recently over the comfort of her former bedroom. The choice baffled the nursemaid, as the coming autumn would keep this place cold, even with the nearby fire. The princess had found her nursemaid’s jovial tone could easily lower her guard, however reluctant she was to yield.

Zelda let loose her tense shoulders. “This sight saddens me, Impa,” she said. “This realm they call a lesser Hyrule was once a grand country, much larger than... this.”

Impa approached the princess. “I know, child.”

“My people have dwindled, either by the division of this country, or that there is little wealth remaining in these lands. The few that have lingered can barely make a living in this petty kingdom.”

The princess looked down below at castle bailey, watching the handful of knights and workers going about their daily duties. She could barely afford to pay them, and some were even volunteers, whose help Zelda graciously accepted despite her shame.

“Your Highness, you shouldn’t speak so little of your country,” Impa said warmly. “Petty kingdom or not, the name of Hyrule remains proud, for it still keeps the greatest treasures of all. No amount of wealth can surpass them.”

“Not ‘them,’ but ‘it’... Were it that I could wield the full ensemble of the Triforce... With but a single wish from my heart’s depths, I could rule Hyrule properly and lead my people to prosperity, like the monarchs of old.”

Impa looked at her princess more closely, seeking to understand.

“I only want to do right by my people, Impa. That means making the right decision, even when it is difficult.” Zelda turned to her nursemaid, with unease weighing heavily in her brow. Impa noticed a glint of light from the back of Zelda’s right hand, which the young princess quickly hid with the other.

“Princess, what have you seen?” Impa asked.

Zelda breathed deeply, looking away for a moment. “An evil will strike this country soon, Impa, I am sure of it. Surely you have heard the rumors? The monsters stalking the wilds are amassing in greater numbers, even stealing weapons and tools from the outer villages in the night. Never before have they acted like this. There are even whispers of certain people consorting with them.”

“It’s certainly odd...” Impa said, maintaining a willful skepticism. “Perhaps Your Highness can arrange for more guards patrolling the roads? To protect the people from monsters, to dissuade dealing with them. But it may require some further thrift here...”

“No mere soldier can protect this land from what is to come, from what I have foreseen. You know of what I mean, Impa.”

“Your Highness, I am not so sure...” Impa said, reluctant to believe she would witness the fabled calamity return in her lifetime.

Zelda again looked back over the remains of her kingdom, lamenting its decline. “The fate of Hyrule will be decided in the very near future, Impa, at a point in time I cannot yet discern past. All else before then, however...” Zelda breathed deeply, trying to stand up straighter, more strongly. “The decision is still difficult.”

Impa’s voice became grave. “What must be done, my princess?”

“Please prepare for an escape from the castle, Impa,” Zelda said. “Not even this place will be safe from the storm.”

__

Link had begun to get the hang of his father’s training. His eyes could keep up with the wooden sword’s dance now, and his footwork had gotten better, too. This time, they practiced outside their home atop a small hill in the outskirts of their woodland village, with the sun setting behind the western mountains. Link’s mother was preparing thin wooden panels as targets, resisting the itch to practice on them herself before her son would complete his sword training for the day.

“Three, four!” his father said, and Link deftly parried his strikes aside, his green cap bouncing slightly with his movements.

“Five!” he shouted, to Link’s surprise, but the young boy quickly jumped back, evading the blow. Having put too much force behind his swing only to hit air, Link’s father stumbled forward, trying to regain balance. With a smirk, Link then leaped forward, lunging with his wooden sword, and the tip landed squarely on his father’s chest.

“Alright, alright, I yield,” he said, and Link withdrew, cheering a little.

“Link!” his mother called out. “Rest for a moment, and then get your slingshot!” Yet the boy was filled with energy despite the autumn chill, and grabbed the small tool lying aside the log Link’s father sat on.

“Let’s start now, Mother!” he said, pulling on the sling loaded with an acorn.

She sighed in wonder as she attached the target to the clothesline. “Ready?” she said, and then turned the crank on the contraption, attaching more targets as she went. From one end, the wood panels swayed in the air as they were pulled along. Link quickly landed the acorns on three out of four targets, though not very accurately, before they reached the other end of the clothesline.

“What about the fourth, Link?” his father said, taking a drink from his waterskin.

“It’ll do, dear!” his mother replied, watching Link as he looked for acorns that remained intact. “Don’t worry, Link. You’ve gotten good at this very quickly. You’ll be perfect in no time.”

“Can I try again?” Link asked, restless.

His mother laughed. “Of course, of course.”

But as she turned the crank the other way to bring the targets back, a scream was heard from the far side of the village. The three of them turned in its direction immediately, and Link’s father jumped from his seat to get a closer look.

There was a clang of metal, and another scream. Embers caught on another villager’s thatch roof, quickly lighting it ablaze. The piggish roars of moblins were enough to turn Link’s knees to jelly.

“Something’s wrong,” Link’s father said, urgently walking back to the door of their home. “Link! Quickly, now!” he said, and the boy obeyed, following him inside. Moving aside their supper table and the fur pelt beneath it, he revealed a trapdoor blended in with the planks of the floor, and he easily stuffed Link in the tiny space beneath their home.

“But Father!”

“No buts. Stay here and don’t make a sound until you hear me or your mother call for you. Do you understand?”

“It’s for your own safety, Link,” his mother said. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

Link hesitantly nodded.

His mother took down a short bow from the wall, with simple wooden arrows in a large quiver, while his father pulled a thick club out from behind their bed, larger than the wooden swords they used for training. They wasted no time in shutting the trapdoor and putting the pelt and table back above it before heading out toward the rest of the village.

Link sat in the darkness of the hidden space, trying not to make a sound against the old wood, loose soil, and pebbles he sat against. Soon, the door to their home opened again.

“Mother? Father?” Link whispered, fear forcing still his throat.

He heard a dog-like snarl, and the moblin stomped on the planks of the floor, sniffing around for life. It took all Link had to not yelp in fright as he hugged his knees.

“No one here!” the moblin growled, and Link heard the heavy stamps of its feet leaving the house, and the door slammed shut. Link sighed in relief, but his face shot up when he heard crackling sounds above him. Through the little cracks between the floorboards, he could see an orange light, and Link pounded at the trapdoor above, screaming for his parents. But they weren’t there, and the door would barely budge against the weight of the table.

For a moment, Link despaired at his weakness, wailing in pain from throwing his forearms against the dirt wall. None of the training he endured had prepared him for this, nor made him stronger than his ten-year-old body. He cried at his powerlessness, at not knowing what to do.

In a moment between his deep breaths, he remembered his father’s words, muffling the sound of everything else, just for an instant.

Courage when it matters most.

Link found strength in his legs, and again he pushed up against the trapdoor, managing to open it just a little. A flicker of fell light and smoke threatened his focus. With the full weight of the table above him, Link could barely move it any further than a foot, but then he heard a thud behind him. Something on the table fell off, and then another, and Link pushed harder than before, every fiber of his muscles screaming. With a final push and his foot now against the edge of the floor above, he threw the trapdoor back and leapt out from the darkness.

With the support beams of his house’s roof collapsing, Link slammed his weight against the burning door, dashing right through, sustaining a few burns on his hand and legs, while the loose threads of his shirt and tunic singed away. By now, much of the rest of the village was on fire, homes and trees alike, covering the red sky in a thick smoke. Sparing no time to think or catch his breath, Link grabbed his slingshot and his wooden sword, and ran toward the village.

“Mother! Father! Where are you?” he called out as he neared the center of the village, its houses all ablaze, its people running, fighting, and dying.

A young girl screamed as she scampered past Link, holding her stuffed doll tightly in her arms, both of them bearing little burns. Removing its weapon from the body of a village defender, a moblin gave chase, prepared to throw its spear at her.

“No!” Link yelled, and swung his wooden sword hard and low, catching the fiend on its ankle. It tripped, landing face-first into the dirt. The girl kept running, unaware she was safe for the moment, while the moblin growled as it got up and picked up its spear, now focused on Link.

The young swordsman jumped back, grasping his wooden sword in both hands. He raised it up for a high strike, and he felt it pulsate in his arms. The moblin charged at him, its spear aimed straight for the boy. Link only planted his feet and grit his teeth, and at the last second he jumped to the right and swung his sword down and forward to meet the fiend, landing the tip right on its unarmored head. The wooden sword erupted with a burst of rainbow light, and the moblin was thrown back, limp and lifeless.

Some distance away, another moblin roared “Blood for the king!”

“Blood for the king!” others yelled in unison.

Link was thoroughly winded from the blast, and as he confusedly regained his breath, he noticed his wooden sword was cracked and split in parts.

“There are more on the other side of the building!” he heard ahead. It was his mother’s voice.

“Mother!” he yelled, but got no response. Link quickly picked up the shield from the fallen defender, strapping it to his right arm as he ran forward.

Ahead, Link’s parents were engaged with a duo of moblins; his father quickly evaded the strikes of their spears, while his mother drew another arrow, aiming for their heads.

“Keep them still!” she said, narrowly evading the thrown spear of a moblin.

“I’m trying!” Link’s father yelled, bashing the now-unarmed moblin in the head. In close quarters, he attacked the other, and the moblin had no choice but to defend.

“Father! Mother!” Link called out.

“Link?” his father said, and the moment of distraction was enough for the moblin to overpower the man, its hooved foot kicking him back, undoubtedly breaking his ribs.

“No!” his wife screamed. On the ground, Link’s father then brandished a knife from his belt and plunged it deep into the upper leg of the moblin, ripping through flesh as he wrenched it back out. Link’s mother loosed an arrow through the moblin’s eye, and it fell back, frozen in its stunned pose. With great difficulty, Link’s father got up, barely able to breathe and unable to hold the large club he had wielded.

“Link, I told you to stay home...”

“I want to help!” he yelled loudly in defiance.

“Link,” his mother said, running to him, “it’s not safe here.”

“It wasn’t safe at home! They burned it down!”

As Link’s father tried to approach them, holding his chest in pain, they heard roars on the other side of the buildings, through the crackling flame.

“More, more!”

“Blood for the king!”

Gasping, Link’s mother’s eyes darted around for assailants.

“Look at you,” Link’s father said, still some distance away, pushing against his forward leg for support. “My boy, my brave fighter—”

A spear slashed through his back, and a dog-faced moblin roared in victory, now pointing its weapon at the young boy straight ahead. 

“No!” Link’s mother screamed, pulling him along by the arm, and running off as quickly as her legs could take her, as much as Link tried standing his ground.

“Blood for the king!” yelled the moblin as its spear sped through the air, and Link’s mother stumbled, falling with him tight in her arms.

Wresting himself out of her grasp, Link then threw the wooden sword with all of his might at the head of the charging moblin, its splintered and broken shaft knocking the creature out cold.

“Mother, come on,” he said, turning back to her, but his eyes were caught on the spear that had torn through her back.

“Link... You must run...” she forced out with the last of her breath, and the life faded away from her eyes, like wind through flowers.

Link, speechless with tears burning his eyes, screamed at the open sky. But the moblins were not yet finished. A handful of them remained, all gathering near the body of Link’s father, pointing their spears at him. One spiraled through the air right past him, landing and getting stuck in the ground. Something spurred Link’s legs to run, dashing away from the rain of the moblins’ spears and their stomping charge, running back home without a second thought.

His home was now entirely aflame, and part of the structure had collapsed. Frozen for a moment with wide eyes and the roars of moblins behind him, he grabbed the second wooden sword, once his father’s, and kept running. Over the hill and through the thick forest, Link ignored the burning in his legs and lungs, and kept running.

__

There was a banging at the castle’s gates, and the young Princess Zelda watched from above as scores of moblins kept throwing themselves into it with battering rams. An accident involving their crude bombs had dented the moblins’ numbers, but with the sheer amount of their recently arrived reinforcements, Hyrule Castle’s garrison had little hope beyond maintaining its defense of the wall. Hidden in the upper parapets, the wall’s few archers could properly hold their positions and pick their enemies off one by one, and the knights and fighters skillfully ambushed the ladder-climbing moblins, knocking them back and letting gravity handle destroying their poorly made tools. But the garrison’s supply of arrows would eventually run out, and the swordsmen just couldn’t keep up with all of the moblins coming for them.

“Blood for the king!” the beasts chanted. Together they would all stamp on the hopes of Hyrule’s last guardians.

“Set up the barricades!” the knight captain yelled, and others brought out what few they had to defend entrances to the keep both above the ramparts and down in the bailey. There was an explosion behind them on the other side of the keep, however, along with the screams of the handful of soldiers defending that position.

“No!” the knight captain yelled, his hand grasping his sword too tightly. “You all must hold this place at all cost, I must go—”

“You must stay where you are, Captain,” he heard in the far back of his mind. “That dark fiend is beyond you and all your soldiers. I will deal with it in time.”

He looked up to the keep’s tower, and though he could not see his princess, he knew she watched.

“I will stay here,” the knight captain said, raising his sword to his face, his eyes looking past its edges. “On my honor as a knight of Hyrule, I will smite the enemy of this land and protect my charge with my very life.”

With renewed strength, the captain led a forward push against the invading moblins, and together with his remaining soldiers, he cut through them with great speed and accuracy. His lovingly polished steel armor shone with a red gleam, and the weaker assailants were thrown back, awestruck when their spears would do little to harm him. While others went to deal with the ladder moblins at the ramparts, the captain faced those just now breaking through the front gate of the outer wall. He knew that the princess and the Triforce of Wisdom she wielded would see things right, and if he were to die on this battlefield, it would not be in vain so long as she lived.

Zelda above watched as her knights fought in spite of their dwindling numbers. “The stage is almost set. Impa, have you finished the preparations?”

“Your Highness,” Impa said, “I have readied our flight from the castle.” Her heart raced a bit too much for her old age. “But what was that sound?”

“It was an explosion, Impa. Their king has gained entry to our deepest vaults.”

“Princess... No! That is where...” Impa stopped herself upon noticing Zelda’s unchanging expression, as if it was something she expected to happen.

“Yes, Impa. Whether it is fate-designed, or pure happenstance that allowed this, I cannot say that it was a surprise. Or perhaps it was my weakness in not bearing the full Triforce as my ancestors did that allowed for this to come to pass.”

Impa would have scolded her were it not for the situation surrounding them.

“It matters not. He will be here soon. I have one more task to fulfill, but before that, you must escape the castle before he arrives.”

Impa’s eyes widened. “My princess! No, I cannot leave without you!”

“Impa, you must. The escape was never meant for me.”

“I will not leave you here to be left to the Demon King’s whims! The fate of Hyrule rests on your shoulders, Your Highness. So long as you live, Hyrule will survive, it can be wrought anew! Princess Zelda, you are Hyrule!”

“Nay, Impa. The fate of Hyrule is a shared burden. In this light, I require of you a mission, my faithful nursemaid.”

Unease forced Impa’s back to tighten, but she bowed all she could nonetheless. “What shall I do, Your Highness?”

“Seek someone of great skill and bravery, Impa. One whose shoulders can bear this weight. One with the will to save Hyrule.”

Impa breathed deeply, contemplating her mission. “I understand, my princess.”

“Now go, my dear Impa. We are running out of time.”

Impa’s feet were reluctant to move, but she bit her tongue and steeled her heart, and soon made for the lower hidden corridors of the castle. The castle’s few servants had gathered near the concealed exit, waiting for Zelda and Impa to flee together from the evil king’s wrath, but they would not see their princess this one last time.

Zelda returned to the balcony to observe the battle. Of the castle’s garrison, only the knight captain still remained. Though his breaths and sword were heavy, he stood against the advancing enemy, ignoring all notions of tire and pain. The horde of moblins assembled around him, readying their spears to skewer the armored man to the door. He gathered his breath once again, raised his shield, and dug his feet into the ground.

“As I still draw breath, you will not enter this castle.”

“Choke him!”

“Trample on his throat!”

One moblin thrust its spear at the captain, but he easily deflected it with his shield and ran his sword through the moblin’s neck in one swift motion.

Then he heard thundering footsteps, coming from the other side of the wall. Even the moblins trembled at first, but soon a laughter erupted amongst them. There was a pounding on the other side of the still-shut front gate, undoubtedly the moblins trying once again to break through with a battering ram. But they were hushed with a single swipe, which the captain felt rend the air.

In an instant, the stout gate of Hyrule Castle was smashed to a thousand pieces, the fist of the demon standing at its threshold burning with a fell flame. It looked to be a pig-faced moblin, with its flat snout, fangs too big to keep in its mouth, and bearing dried skulls and spoils of war, but the similarities stopped there. Its hide was shaded in a skin-crawling blue, it had thick horns sprouting from its head though they were now broken, and even hunched it was much larger than its footsoldiers. Stowing its broad trident over its back, it cracked its knuckles, and behind the deeply dark flame wreathed around its hand, the knight captain could make out a faint light, its shape all too familiar to any servant of the Royal Family of Hyrule.

“Princess!” the knight captain cried out.

“Worry not, Captain,” he heard in his mind. “I remain unharmed.”

“But the ancient relic! The treasure of your family! No, why are you still here?” he said back to her.

“I could not find the will to wield it myself, for fear of what I would become with its power. You may rue me if you want, Captain.”

The captain’s shoulders dropped, watching the demon ahead stare him down. “No, my princess, I will not,” he said, “for I was too foolhardy to heed your warnings.”

In his weariness and the heat of the battlefield, he remembered the words the princess gave him before the siege, as he and his soldiers kept to their vigil.

“I ask that you flee as well, Captain, for I fear the might of this invading army and the one who leads it,” Princess Zelda had said. “Please, Captain, your defense here will be sure death.”

“Your Highness, my soldiers and I will defend the keep to make sure you and the others can escape to seek someplace safe.”

“And if I call upon your oaths to serve me, your ruling princess, without question nor defiance?”

“Then I would beg your forgiveness, for I am set on this path. I ask that you allow me this honor of protecting you. Once I know you have successfully escaped with your treasures, my princess, I will retreat with whomever I can. My soldiers are aware of this plan, and will act on it should you approve.” Though the captain’s eyes were elsewhere.

Zelda lamented this thread of fate, for she knew what the captain did not. “Captain, with great reluctance do I give you my approval, for I know that I cannot defeat fate... But I ask that you use this for your protection.” She presented to him a little ring made of a silver-red band bearing a dull garnet stone; a trinket to most people’s eyes. But he knew this was a preserved magic treasure of Hyrule Castle, to be kept for the assistance of the hero of legend.

The captain smiled, accepting it. “I only do this to protect you, Your Highness. I know that you will be a good queen one day.”

The hazy memory faded away, and Zelda shed a tear remembering it herself. Now, the captain stood alone against the dark fiend, this purported ‘Demon King,’ and its army of beasts.

“So this is how it ends,” the captain said, tightly gripping his sword and shield.

“I will stay with you to the end, my dear captain,” he heard, and it was warm.

The dark fiend’s hand flared again with its wicked flame, and the golden light that appeared under it radiated enough for him to see clearly. The fiend grabbed the knight, its hulking hand wrenching through his steel breastplate, right past the protective red light. Soon it collapsed, and the knight’s ribcage shattered entirely. Still holding him, the snarling fiend placed its forefinger over the knight’s head, and clenched its fist one last time.

With unreal strength, the fiend broke right through the gate to the castle’s keep, leading the moblin army with heavy footsteps that shook the building’s foundations. Though the princess had foreseen this outcome, with each time she felt the shock in her knees and spine, she couldn’t help but be frightened.

But the princess knew she had to perform her duty, even at her own expense. Her mind called out to Impa’s, and gave the nursemaid her final orders.

Zelda fortified her heart, raising her right hand forward, and the light Impa once saw on the back of the princess’s hand shone again. The intense light dimmed for a moment to reveal a marking – three perfect triangles joined in unison at their points to make one greater triangle. The triangle of the bottom-left gleamed more strongly than the other two, before the full marking dimmed completely. Zelda turned her hand, raising the palm high, and produced a single triangle, one that appeared immaculately carved from shimmering, unblemished gold.

Grasping the triangle in her hand, she clenched tight her fingers around it, yelping in pain. With great difficulty and searing pain in her very core, Zelda broke the golden triangle, light pouring from its cracks. It shattered into eight pieces, and Zelda struggled to walk back out to the balcony. The moblin army still stationed outside could not see her, nor would their shoddy bows and arrows reach her. Mustering what she could of her magic, the princess let loose the triangle fragments into the sky, each wreathed with a blinding blue light as they flew like missiles to different spots around her kingdom.

Traveling through a hidden clearing in the woods, Impa and the other servants watched as they soared through the dusk sky, and the elderly nursemaid’s heart sank as she came to understand the princess’s plan. Soon, a wandering detachment of moblins spotted them under the starlight. Against the sways of her heart, Impa split off to fulfill her duty. Despite that, most of the moblins roared and chased the servants, and a few followed Impa. With heavy breaths and weary bones, she ran for the hills.

At the tallest tower of Hyrule Castle, the dark fiend effortlessly broke through the door of Zelda’s chamber, and with a raised hand, a glowing barrier formed over the smashed doorway. The moblins looked on, touching the barrier in wonder, as the Demon King and Princess Zelda stood opposite each other.

“Say my name,” said the king.

“Ganon,” replied Princess Zelda.

“You know who I am. Then you know why I am here.”

“Yes, I know. You’re here to claim the Triforce.”

“What times Hyrule has fallen into, that the Triforce is unwhole.”

Zelda betrayed a hint of annoyance, and Ganon’s fanged mouth smirked.

“How do you feel, Princess, having watched me utterly decimate your forces? Knowing you never had a chance to stand against my army? My own power?”

“Your power is scarcely your own, Ganon. You have stolen a piece of the Triforce from me. Along with that arrow and many more things, I see.”

“What, this tiny needle?” He removed the arrow from his satchel, holding it by the shaft, carefully avoiding the silver arrowhead. “I know not what it is. It was kept in your vault, so it must have some value. Perhaps I’ll pick my teeth with it.”

“Despite bearing golden might, the blight they called Ganon was also known for his cunning and trickery.” She knew Ganon could tell the silver arrow was crafted as a weapon against him, blessed with moonlight in the hopes it would repel evil. He placed it back into the satchel, along with the little gold and rupees pilfered from the vault, and the red ring taken from the body of the knight captain. “Though perhaps little of your scheming mind remains, having revived as many times as you have. Maybe once this happens again, you will end up a slimy thing, struggling to even stand.”

Ganon growled. “Do not think I will leave these foul tools here for your hero to claim. Oh yes, Princess, I know. Each and every time I have risen, in turn you raised the hero against me. I expect to meet him soon. It is only a matter of time. May I kill him in the cradle.”

Zelda showed an inkling of sorrow. “How could I have raised a hero, with my kingdom as weak as it is now? Perhaps this will be the time you win and break our cycle, Ganon.”

He roared in laughter. “Tell me, Princess, why did you not wield the Triforce of Power yourself? You knew I was coming for you, for it. You could have taken it in your hand to rule over this lesser Hyrule and beyond. You could have used it to destroy me on the battlefield, and none of your soldiers would be dead. Your knight would still live.”

“Do you think I would bandy such words with a foul creature like you?”

“Entertain me, Princess. You have done so up until now. Why stop?”

Every minute she could scrounge for Impa’s flight was precious, but in truth Zelda wanted not to speak of this, least of all with Ganon.

“I would not wield the Triforce of Power in fear of what it would make me. I arm myself with wisdom, so that I can discern what is right and what is wrong... and what will come to pass. With the Triforces of Wisdom and Power, I would see my country restored to its classical splendor, but I may also become a wrathful queen... And when I see your wretched and vile existence, Ganon, I fear it all the more.”

“You fear power would outweigh your ruler’s wisdom... You are scared witless to act as any ruler must. And without the third to complete it, you cannot make your wish upon the Triforce,” Ganon said, his toothy grin curving hideously. “Then give it to me, my Zelda.” He outstretched his massive clawed hand.

“You? The one called ‘Demon King’? I would sooner fling myself from this tower than give it to you, foul beast.”

“Then do so. I would claim the Triforce of Wisdom from your lifeless corpse. Princess, me having left you alive the moment I entered this room was mere courtesy, from ruler to ruler. As much of a dung heap this country has now become, I have come to respect you in some little way for defying me so many times. Give to me your share of the Triforce, and I will give you your life, to live the rest of your pitiful days in Hyrule’s carcass.”

With her head down and eyes closed, Zelda began to smile, seemingly resigned to her fate.

“You know this is the only way you get to live. Your Wisdom will show you.”

Zelda raised her head and met Ganon’s stare, and her smile became wry.

He growled. “Princess... Where is the Triforce of Wisdom?”

“It is gone. I no longer bear its light.”

“WHERE IS THE TRIFORCE?!”

“Not even I know, Ganon.”

“YOU LIE!”

“I have broken my piece into many pieces and scattered them around my country. It may take you a long time to find them, even if you knew where to start. But wisdom you do not have.”

He roared again, and the floor beneath him cracked. “Foul, despicable girl! I will kill you! I swear it! I will kill you worse than your puny knight!” Ganon’s hand glowed with the mark of the Triforce, its upper triangle of the three shining most brightly.

Zelda’s knees almost buckled.

“Stay your hand, demon. You will not kill me.”

“Do you mean to test me?!”

“I am the only one who can divine where the pieces of the Triforce of Wisdom have become hidden. Kill me, and you lose your fastest way to acquiring it.”

“I can wait,” he snarled. “I have become very patient.”

“Do you expect to gather them all before the hero comes for you?”

“You admit it, then? You have raised a hero to defy me?”

“Nay, I admit that I have not. But I doubt you want to wait long enough to see one rise on their own, Ganon.”

“Vile, wretched princess. Your own existence disgusts me. Long have the people of Hyrule enjoyed the bounty of their land. You can imagine how happy I was to see how you all now suffer in this waste of a land, like mine. Fine then, Princess. You can play your little game of rebellion against me. Divine for me these cursed places where you have hidden the Triforce of Wisdom. When it rests complete and whole in my hand, I will claim your skull as the price for your childish defiance.”

Ganon clenched his glowing fist and a crystal prism formed around Zelda, trapping her in the fiend’s clutches. With the princess and her family’s treasures in tow, Ganon and his army left Hyrule Castle and marched for his base at Death Mountain. 

__

Impa had been running almost nonstop for hours, and by the time the sun began to rise, she was all but exhausted. She found herself in a clearing outside the forest, near a low plateau by the kingdom’s southern borders. The nursemaid’s old body hurt beyond belief and capacity, but with the moblins having not given up on the chase, she could not spare much time for rest.

  As she sat against a tree to catch her breath, only a few minutes passed before she heard rustling from within the trees. Impa groaned in pain and worry, with beads of sweat falling from her brow as the stomps and growls of moblins approached.

“Oh, Princess, I don’t know if I can do the mission you gave me... Forgive me for my weakness, sweet child...”

The very moment one of the moblins stepped out from the thicket into the clearing, something zoomed through the air, hitting one in the eye. In throes of pain, the moblin unwittingly slashed at the other three. More projectiles zoomed through the air as a boy holding a slingshot jumped out from a tree, continually readying new shots.

“There! Kill the runt!”

Two moblins flung their spears at the boy, who dodged one and deflected the other with his small shield. Loosing another acorn at the eyes of a moblin, the boy’s already-worn slingshot broke, and he threw it away before drawing his wooden sword, also battered and cracked. Swift as the wind, he dove into the thrashing pile of moblins, throwing them all back with a spin of his sword. Impa gasped in awe as she watched the boy fight. One would think a child would scream, hold their head, and run when faced with a moblin, a devilish and ever meat-hungry forest beast often mentioned in stories meant to make the children behave. Yet this boy fought unwaveringly with four moblins armed and trained for feral warfare. Impa thought the boy moved like a green flash, watching him whittle each of them down with the strikes of his sword.

The last of the four moblins, a larger blue-skinned kind, got in a lucky strike with its spear, cutting past the boy’s sleeve and skin. Still, he held his shield and his sword, almost snapped in half at this point, to face the fiend. It roared, putting all its force behind a quick thrust. But the boy deflected it to the side and jumped forward before using his shield to bash in the side of the moblin’s knee, and it fell. The boy then tightly grasped the hilt of what remained of his wooden sword, and smashed it into the moblin’s head. Any life that remained in the moblin was now gone, and the wooden sword was now broken, little of it remaining past the guard. After a moment of contemplation, the boy cast it aside.

“Young boy,” Impa called out weakly, coughing.

He turned, staring at the small old lady sitting against the tree.

“Come here... Quickly, please.” Impa slowly tried to stand, and when she almost fell, the boy ran to support her, and he gave her his waterskin to drink from. There wasn’t much, and Impa had not expected she would drink it all. Still, it rejuvenated her, and pain slowly left her body, though she was still weary. “What a good lad you are...”

 The boy kept silent, focusing on carrying the small woman forward where she wanted to go. He squeezed out the last drops of the fairy water over the wound on his arm, and it stung and steamed as it closed shut.

“I am Impa, servant of Princess Zelda. She needs your help.”

The boy inhaled sharply when he heard the name. Though his home was a few miles from the Kingdom of Hyrule’s official borders, he had seen the few soldiers the castle had when they were on their regular patrols around the region, and he knew of the attack on Hyrule Castle. Though he had never seen the princess, his parents had sometimes talked about the state of the kingdom and the overall Hyrule region.

My parents...

Though Impa remained quiet waiting for a response, some semblance of acknowledgement, the boy’s thoughts trailed off in remembering his mother and father. Yes, he had to escape his house to live, but if he hadn’t called out to them, distracted them in battle, revealed their position to the moblins, perhaps they...

“Young boy? Surely you aren’t deaf.”

His mouth frowning tightly, the boy turned to face Impa and shook his head.

“Dear me,” she sighed in some mixture of worry and relief. “I must ask your forgiveness, boy, but Princess Zelda and this land of Hyrule need your help. I fear I must believe you are its best hope. Please, will you at least tell me your name?”

The boy felt as if his throat was bound in fetters. He managed to utter something with some difficulty, as if he was remembering himself.

“Link.”

“Oh my, a strong name. I will not have to call you the boy who hides in trees,” Impa said, laughing to herself.

Link carried her to the edge of the plateau, and she sat again, breathing deeply. Together they faced the remains of the kingdom, from the Death Mountain Range in the northwest and the Great Hyrulean Sea in the far east. Though the plateau wasn’t very high, they could see much of it clearly. The Lost Woods, Lake Hylia, Spectacle Rock upon Death Mountain itself... Some thought these grandiose names were all Hyrule had to remember its former glory.

“The princess is... in Ganon’s clutches, the one called ‘Demon King,’” Impa said, but her words were unsure and very pained. “To keep it out of his possession, she has broken a treasure most vital to Hyrule’s peace, its heart. It is the Triforce of Wisdom, a triangle of gold, now split apart in eight pieces.”

Link nodded, remembering the lights he saw the night before.

“I am not entirely sure of pieces’ locations, but there are many strongholds throughout the kingdom. They are older than even me, but they were well built... some even hidden by magic, to be used in the defense of this country. I am sure the princess has hidden the pieces of the Triforce within their depths. But the strongholds themselves have been in disuse for ages... There is talk of monsters and other evils having taken up residence.”

Impa was surprised, yet joyed nonetheless to see Link’s glare remain steady.

“You must recover the Triforce of Wisdom, both to keep it out of Ganon’s hands, and to save Zelda from him. For Ganon has taken its counterpart, the Triforce of Power. Without Zelda’s treasure, you cannot hope to battle with the Demon King. Link... I know not if I can trust you with the princess’s mission, but please, you must help.”

With his brow heavy, Link only nodded.

A smile formed on Impa’s face, but strength began to leave the old woman’s eyes.

“I leave it to you... Please, save Zelda... Save Hyrule...”

Impa lightly fell to the side, and Link gasped, but when he heard her snore, he knew it was alright. Just below them at the foot of the plateau, Link saw a person, an old man, who had seemingly been watching them. The old man turned back, hobbling into a cave of which the entrance Link could barely see. Doing what he could to lift Impa over his back, he carried the old woman down a pathway leading below, and took her into the cave.

With the cave illuminated by fires in two pots, the old man sat against the rear wall, with some scavenged provisions and a walking stick at his side. He looked upon Link warily as the boy laid Impa down against the cave wall.

“I saw enough of what happened, young boy,” the old man said. “You’re quite skilled, I have to admit. I can watch over the lady until she wakes. But I don’t have much in the way of provision here myself, and I don’t know if I’ll last so long anyway.” Link noticed some spots of red in the cave floor, and a bloodied rag wrapped around his leg.

Link nodded and turned to leave.

“Wait!” the old man yelled. “It’s dangerous out there. There are those pigs lurking about, but more creatures have come out from the trees, down from the mountains. You’re one boy, all alone. I don’t know what you’re going to do, but there’s a weapon, right over there, if you need it...”

Link turned to see a moblin’s spear off to the side, its head carved from animal bone. Link’s lip curled in unhidden disgust, and he shook his head.

“I see... Then, the only other thing I have left is this. Take it.”

The old man pulled from behind him a sheathed sword, holding it out as Link approached and took the weapon from his hands. Keeping an eye on the old man, he unsheathed the sword carefully; it was an old thing, rusted in parts, but still serviceable. Link swung it lightly a few times to get a feel for its weight before putting it back in its scabbard and strapping it to his tunic’s belt. 

The old man smiled. “I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got. And someone so young shouldn’t wield a sword so easily... It is less a boon than it is a burden.”

Link’s heavy stare met the old man again.

“But I suppose you already knew. I’ll keep you in my prayers, boy. Should I live, perhaps I’ll hope to see you again.”

Link took another look at Impa before leaving the cave. Back outside, he turned to face the cave, and took another look around him. In the far distances, he saw a cluster of tektites to the west, and more octoroks to the east and north.

He knew not why he had accepted Impa’s request so readily. He knew little of Princess Zelda, had no deep love for Hyrule. He could leave this place if he wanted to, and anyone in their right mind would. But even though the hate he bore for Ganon and his minions still burned strong, part of him felt compelled to do this task out of some duty.

“O brave hero,” Link heard. It was faint, far-off yet still close. “O brave hero, venture north. The great lake, you will find the first piece you seek. Save Hyrule.”

No longer alone, Link grasped his sword tightly, and took his first steps into the wild.

[dontshootmespence]

Far From Over

Summary: After surviving torture at the hands of Tobias Hankle, Spencer calls his best friend and fellow BAU member Olivia Galway for help, leading to secrets, both positive and negative, coming to light.

Words: 1,621

Warnings: Angst, talk about the events of season 2, mentions of drug addiction, smut.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my season 2 square and takes place after the events of The Big Game and Revelations. 

A shrill ring sounded through the air – a special ringtone she’d programmed just for Spencer. The silence that followed was that of snow falling on a cold winter’s night. She’d have thought it was a prank if it weren’t for the ringtone and the faintest hint of breath on the other end. “Livie?”

“Spence? What’s-“

“I need you.”

She shot out of her apartment like a bat outta hell. Since the day they’d found him alive, he’d refused to talk with anyone – not even her. Living through something like that was one in a million. Traumatic didn’t even begin to cover it.

Running up the stairs, Olivia knocked frantically on the door. “Spence, it’s me. Open up.” She could tell the apartment was dark save for a small lamp he loved.

When he opened the door, she gasped. He looked like hell, eyes sunken, skin paler than it already was. “What’s happening, Spence? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing in the immediate,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just…wanted to talk.”

Olivia breathed a small sigh of relief as she stepped foot in the apartment, tossing her bag to one side. “Sit, Spence. I’ll grab us a drink.”

“Just water for me.” He lumbered toward the couch. Though she’d seen him every day since he’d returned, and knew for a fact his foot was healing, he still looked as broken as he did that night when she’d charged through the woods searching for her best friend.

After grabbing herself a soda, she filled up a glass of water and placed it next to him on the side table before sitting at his side. “Talk to me,” Olivia whispered.

“I see him every time I close my eyes,” he breathed. Spencer’s head fell into his hands, a soft sob escaping from between his lips.

Olivia reached over and pulled him into her shoulder. “It’s only been a month. This too shall pass.”

“A Persian adage used to describe the temporary nature of the human condition.”

“Yea,” she whispered, leaning against the back of the couch and pulling him against her chest. “I can’t imagine how hard this for you, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, instead allowing the silence to fill him for a moment. Ever since he left the ambulance, Tobias’ and Charles’ and Raphael’s voices kept fighting for dominance in his head. They were fighting against his, his mother’s, anyone and everyone. For the first time since then, his mind was quiet, but before he knew it, he was sobbing against her shoulder.

“What is it, Spence?”

“I just keep thinking what would’ve happened if you hadn’t understood my message.” He’d lost count of how many times he’d nearly died that weekend. All that he’d felt. First he’d been afraid, then resigned, then determined, knowing he’d rather die than hand Raphael a name of one of his team members. But just before Olivia and the rest of the team had arrived, all he could feel was guilt – guilt that was only compounded when he shot Tobias.

“But I did. And you knew I would because I know you better than anyone. Ask everyone, I was screaming for you to speak to me, to give me a message so that we could find you. God, I was so afraid I was gonna lose you.” Since she’d walked into the apartment, she’d been trying to stay strong for him, but she couldn’t any longer. The entire time Hankle had him her heart had been in her throat. She held him closer and kissed the top of his head. “I promise you’re not alone okay?”

“I keep waiting to gain control of my life again, you know?” He asked as he lifted his head.

A lone tear fell down his cheek and she wiped it away with the pad of her thumb, her free hand grasping his. “You will. Until then, I’m here.”

As their fingers intertwined, he lifted his head and brushed his lips against hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, guilt rushing over him in waves. “I didn’t mean-“

“Spence, it’s okay.” She stopped him in his tracks as he paced the floors, cradling his face and pressing a kiss to his lips. “What do you need?”

Despite was his body and mind were telling him, he knew what this was – a friend trying to comfort a friend in a time of need – and he wouldn’t jeopardize the best friendship he had because of this. That night had already taken too much from him. “I can’t lose you, Olive.”

She smiled sadly at the nickname. One he’d given her after realizing her obsession with black olives. “You won’t. Ever, okay? Nothing that has happened or will happen will change the fact that I love you.”

“Like a friend, and I can’t cross that line knowing I can’t have you every day.” His mind hurt too much to put up pretenses.

Olivia parted his lips with her tongue and tangled her hands in his hair. “Spence, I’ve had a crush on you since I bumped into you in hallway while I was in the Academy.”

“What?”

“Yea,” she breathed. “I read your papers while I was in the Academy and was always fascinated by you. Then I bumped into you like an idiot and you stumbled over your words. You were wearing that red sweater vest you love so much. The one with a whole in the bottom that I said you should get rid of because it might unraveling while you’re wearing it.”

“You remember all that?”

“I do.”

Spencer took a deep breath and pulled her close, his hand gliding up the small of her back and into her crimson locks. “I need you,” he whispered, letting the floodgates of all the words unspoken between them over the past two and a half years.

With all the grace of a baby animal taking its first steps, Spencer and Olivia tumbled into the bedroom, pulling their clothes off, unable to get close enough quickly enough. Then she noticed the track marks on his right arm and grabbed it, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “Spence! I-“ She knew it. Deep down, she knew that there was something more on his mind than his beating at the hand of Hankle.

Spencer looked away ashamed, lip trembling. “He drugged me that entire weekend. I don’t know why I took it from his pocket, but I can’t stop. I don’t know how…”

Grasping his face in her hands, Olivia pleaded with him. “Yes, you can. Because you don’t have to do it alone. Spence, I’ll come with you to NA meetings, I’ll sleep here every night if I have to but please, please, I can’t watch you die. Don’t make me watch you die.” She sobbed against his chest. She couldn’t even imagine what her life would be if she lost him.

“I’ll get help,” he whispered into the air. “I will. I promise.”

She pressed kisses up his collarbone and neck, hoping it was enough to convey to him what he meant to her.

“What do you need, Spencer?” The depths of her forest green eyes told him she was there in whatever way he needed.

He lifted her onto the bed and kneeled in front of her, palms holding her legs open for his gaze. What he needed was her. As his right hand slipped over her skin and the downy tuft of redden hair above her sex, he kissed her inner thigh, watching for her reactions and proceeding accordingly.

Olivia’s eyes fluttered closed as she surrendered herself to Spencer’s ministrations. He hovered over her sex for a moment before licking a stripe up her slit. She gasped, trying to close her legs, but he wouldn’t allow it, keeping them open with just the slightest bit of pressure. His lips pursed around her clit, making her moan and tangle her hands in his hair. “Spence,” she whimpered. “More, please.” He needed control and she wanted to lose it.

Spencer finally allowed himself to get lost in her, switching between long licks and soft kisses, lips and tongue, anything and everything he could possibly think of to make her shake within his grasp. When he added two fingers inside her and curled them upward, she shook into his mouth and cried out for him.

As he crawled up the length of the bed, he brought her with him, placing her head on the pillow. “I need you…all of you.”

“You have me.”

He lifted her leg up and around his waist as he slipped inside her heat, getting lost in the feeling. Pumping inside her felt as close to heaven as he would be probably ever be. “I love you.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, she painted his skin in the kisses he needed and deserved, mewling as he pounded into her. Every time she contracted around him, he groaned into her neck and sped up his pace, moving ever closer to that delicate balance between control and loss of it that he’d been craving for weeks.

“Fuck me, Spence. That’s it.”

“Come for me, Livie,” he whispered, biting down gently on her earlobe.

As he legs began to shake, she threw her head back and cried out into the air, digging her hands into his ass as he thrusted one final time and spilled inside her. Their heavy breaths filled the room when he fell to her side. “I do love you, Olive.”

She turned to him and kissed his shoulder blade, at least a hint of the hurt he’d felt before having disappeared. But she knew his fight was far from over.

[christophe-delorne]

Good Dog: Chapter 16

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this in the works earlier this week but got caught up in family problems and couldn't finish editing it. Needed something to take my mind off things. Its a bit shorter than normal but I couldn't find much energy to add more.I'm putting this story on hiatus, I'm just too tired to really continue writing at the moment. I hope someday I can come back to this. Shout out to my dog, JoJo, though. He's the goodest boy, I don't know where I'd be without his comfort and love.

Christophe was unaware how long he slept, but he found himself waking to comfortable warmth wrapped around him. It was tempting to let himself be lulled back to sleep, having the strange feeling of safety blanket over him, as if nothing could reach him. That was what bothered him though, he never felt safe or comfortable enough to allow his defenses to fall. His mind fought through the fog of his brain so he could focus on reality, a bad choice on his part as instantly he was flooded with a dull, aching pain. It served as a reminder as to what had happened to him.

Being shot was no fun ordeal, no matter how many times Christophe had been shot, he'd never really get used to it. The best solution was simply not to move until he was healed, he was moderately safe, recalling somewhat that he'd been in the presence of Kyle and Gregory. He was as safe as he was ever going to get, but that wasn't saying much really. Gregory was the biggest danger to Christophe, not even a trained hitman posed as much as a threat as the Brit. Gregory knew all of Christophe's weaknesses, knew how to hurt the Frenchman without even raising a hand. The man was every form of torture designed specifically for Christophe.

The current torture was the secure feeling of having those perfectly defined arms curled about him.

He could feel Gregory's slow and easy breath ruffling his dark brown hair, the feel of those broad chest pressed against his shoulders. Long legs tangled with his own, keeping Christophe from pulling away, not that he really wanted to at the moment. It was so rare to have this moment, where Christophe was almost tempted to believe that they lived in a different reality. One where everything fit just right, straight out of some romance novel. Not that Christophe would ever admit to having read one before. In moments like this, it was easy to fall into the illusion, where Gregory was a caring boyfriend that only had eyes for him. They'd wake up, Gregory giving him a good morning kiss before making breakfast.

It was sickening and... Christophe could see why people found it appealing. That life wasn't for him though. He wasn't deserving of it.

"Mm, thinking of me, 'Tophe?" A whisper of a voice brushed against the back of his ear, he should have know Gregory would be aware of Christophe waking up, the tension in Christophe's body was always a dead give away. Still though, Christophe didn't respond, not bothering to humor the blonde. He was too tired to deal with his antics, but Gregory took Christophe's silence only as an invitation. Soft lips pressed against the back of his ear, a deceptively gentle kiss. One Christophe would not fall for, gentleness had never been given to Christophe except to lure him into relaxing before Gregory got rough with him.

Those lips trailed down, pressing feather-light kisses down Christophe's neck until Gregory buried his face into the crook of it. Christophe could feel those arms tighten around him briefly before relaxing again when Christophe grunted from the pain of his bandaged wounds.

"I thought I lost you again..." Gregory's voice was barely even a whisper now, muffled against Christophe's neck to the point Christophe barely understood him. Christophe understood though, no matter how much Gregory posed and did his best to keep his composure, Christophe was also his weakness. Christophe tensed, remembering what it was like the time he died, how he'd woke up to a sight that was forever branded in his memory. Of Gregory crying. He'd never seen Gregory cry again after that, though he felt like right now that Gregory was doing his best not to succumb to saddness once again.

Crying? For him?

Tears were better wasted on someone else, not him. But... Christophe couldn't help but to fancy the idea that maybe he was loved deeply enough by the blonde that fear and heartache could effect him. Maybe in another life they would have been lovers, tied together by some invisible string, maybe even destined soulmates. Christophe found some sort of peace in the idea, enough so that he dared to reach up with one hand and brush his fingers into those silken stands of fine spun gold. Gregory wouldn't have tolerated such under any other circumstance, but now, they were experiencing a different reality, a dream for as long as they could before it slipped through their fingers.

Gregory's fingers were gentle, stroking slowly back and forth over the uninjured part of Christophe's abdomen, tracing over scars as if his touch alone could erase them physically and mentally. Lips pressed kiss after kiss on olive skin, worshiping Christophe, praising him for staying alive. How could Christophe ever leave? He could never abandon Gregory. Not even God themselves could pry him away from the blonde. Against all odds, Christophe would always find his way back to Gregory, as romantic as that sounded.

Love. Romance.

Two words that Christophe avoided the best he could, but he'd never escape it. He should run from it, shun it with everything he had. He couldn't though, deep down, he yearned for it. Maybe not the love that was pictured on films, he could never live a normal life like that. However, Gregory could offer him a place... but would he?

No.

If Gregory wanted him like that, Christophe would be living in his home, not some girl that clung to Gregory's arm like a trophy. He wanted to hate her, to give in to the jealousy that clawed inside him, but he couldn't. He was aware of the truth, Gregory's lifestyle demanded someone of higher caliber than Christophe could offer. Christophe couldn't smile, didn't have that pleasant look in his eye. Not to mention the wrinkles and the bad habit of smoking whenever he was stressed, and he was stressed a lot. All in all, Christophe and Gregory were complete opposites in reality. It simply wouldn't work.

"You're getting tense again." Gregory murmured, reluctant to give in to reality just yet as he brushed his nose against the underside of Christophe's jaw. Dark green eyes peered down at the mass of golden hair, so beautiful, so perfect, like a ancient Greek god who crawled into his bed. Christophe wouldn't praise Gregory in such a way, it would only feed the other man's ego and would never let Christophe forget it.

"What are we, Gregory?" Christophe rasped out, making him realize he probably needed something to drink soon, his throat was dry.

The question made Gregory still, pulling him out of the dreamworld they shared for such a brief moment. It was best they not dwell too long there, or else what little sanity they had left would be lost. Gregory didn't respond right away, letting silence fall like a winter's chill in the bedroom. Still though, Gregory didn't let Christophe go, didn't pull away, still locked in his fear of losing Christophe. Golden brows furrow, soft lips thin as Gregory was losing himself in thought, puzzling this out, trying to find the right words to say. Thinking. Always thinking too much.

"I can't lose you again." Gregory replied as if that was a satisfactory answer, but it wasn't. It solved nothing. Christophe was on his wits end after near death. Could he possibly kept this up? He wasn't certain, but he was tired, tired of being a good dog who came at Gregory's beck and call without hesitation. He was tired of receiving nothing in return, tired of his leash being yanked and his collar tightening around his throat to the point he couldn't breathe. It was time he demanded something for himself and if Gregory taught him anything, it was to sink his teeth in and never let go.

"Implying you ever had me to begin with." It was a statement, an accusation tossed out there to hit Gregory and pin him down with a choice. He could feel Gregory's arm tighten around him, muscles like lean cables of steel locking him in place. In Christophe's current condition, he'd be hard pressed to fight back, but he didn't need physical strength to hurt someone, Gregory had taught him that much. "I'm just some stray you occasionally feed scraps to, but I've never been yours and at this rate, I never will be."

"Careful what you say, Christophe." Gregory's voice was dangerous against his ear, but Christophe wouldn't be pressed into obedience. Not this time.

"When have I ever been careful?" A sour response. "I'm drawing the line here. I'm not some side piece, some toy you can play with. Not anymore. Either you completely dedicate yourself to me, or else this will be our last job." He hated Colorado, hated the people from South Park, hated how everything crumbled apart when they were involved. It had to be this way, if Christophe did die and stay dead, what was his point? Would anyone really remember him? He'd be left having accomplished nothing in this hell of a planet. He wanted something, something for himself. For once, he wanted to be selfish.

"What do you expect me to do?" Gregory was backed in a corner now, his defenses down from stress, of being reminded of how he found Christophe. He'd rushed to find Christophe both times, and both times he'd found Christophe alone and bleeding on the ground. Everyone gone, forgetting about him. Except for Gregory. In all honesty, Gregory could never forget about the Frenchman. Forget the way those dark forest green eyes stared in defiance at him, saw right through all his charades. Christophe had never cared about looks, about manners, had always pressed Gregory to be more independent, to stand on his own instead of chasing after his father's coat tails.

"The same thing as you expect from me. Loyalty and dedication." It was simple, or sounded as such, and yet so complicated. Nothing had ever been easy for them, such a tangled mess of their lives that they tried so desperately to hide or ignore. Christophe was tired of getting tangled up in it all, he needed something stable to stand on. He didn't want this fantasy he caught brief glimpses of to remain that way, just fantasy. It would never be perfect, but at least it would be something he could work towards, something that would help him continue fighting to live.

"I shouldn't..."

"Why not?

"It will only hurt me more if... something did happen to you."

"Coward."

That got a response out of Gregory, Christophe was well aware of how much the Brit didn't like being called a coward. A cheap tactic, but Christophe wasn't one for beating around the bush or succumbing to cowardice. A firm hand came up to grab a hold of his jaw, jerking his head roughly to the side without warning but Christophe didn't resist. He knew Gregory's aim even before those addicting lips crashed onto his own. There was no waiting as a tongue suddenly delved past his chapped lips and conquered his mouth, Christophe didn't have the energy to fight back, simply letting Gregory lose himself in the moment.

This was a good enough answer for him.

[goodlucktai]

steady feet don’t fail us now

deathly hallows au word count: 3k pairing: harry/ron/hermione read on ao3 x

The war isn’t over when it’s over. 

Voldemort is little more than a nightmare now, his body dusting in the Forbidden Forest, but the rest of his army won’t have conceded the loss just yet. There will still be Death Eaters at large, there will still be monsters roaming hungrily where monsters shouldn’t be, but their evil King met its checkmate and it’s a downhill fight from here. 

Thanks to Harry. Who can barely walk on the way back to the castle, propped up in the circle of Ron and Hermione’s arms, dusky skin too pale, wild hair damp and lank, green eyes feverish and brighter than the killing curse. 

“Nearly there,” Hermione is telling him softly. “You’ve done it, Harry, you’ve done so well. We’re nearly there, and then you can rest.”

“Hell, you can check out now if you’d like, mate,” says Ron, with a lightness he doesn’t really feel. He’s counting Harry’s heartbeats, matching his breaths, compiling this proof that Harry came back alive because it’s so much a miracle Ron almost can’t believe it. “I’ll carry you to the castle like a proper knight, and everyone will be too impressed with your victory to take the piss out of you.”

“Ron, honestly,” says Hermione. 

Harry’s shoulders shake, the ghost of a laugh, and then the woods don’t seem quite as dark. 

The war isn’t over, but it is for Harry. He’s done enough, more than enough, and Ron won’t let him do more. Hermione, leaning in to kiss his cheek with a look of fierce love on her face, seems to agree.

         Harry stays on his feet for as long as he can, because they all know that once he’s down, he’s out, and he’ll probably sleep for days. And it will be a fitful, restless sleep if he doesn’t have a chance to reassure himself beforehand that all the people he loves are still alive. Hermione could do with some reassurance herself, really.

Their return goes largely unnoticed. Harry sent a Patronus to the castle to let them know they’d won, the silver stag running ahead of them to deliver the news, so the Hogwarts they step into is busy and bustling and full of chatter as their army shifts its efforts from wartime to relief. 

They’re only largely unnoticed because within seconds Sirius and Remus seem to Apparate across the Great Hall. They pull Harry into their arms with such shaken relief that Ron coughs and politely studies his shoes.

“You are most certainly Lily’s son,” says Remus wearily. “I’ve enough gray in my hair as it is, Harry, without you disappearing for a day-long duel with the Dark Lord.”

“That bloody cloak,” Sirius says with choked vehemence, knowing exactly how Harry escaped their watchful eyes to answer the ultimatum Voldemort had delivered on the castle with a Sonorous almost a full twenty hours ago. “I could strangle Prongs for leaving you that bloody cloak. As soon as we noticed you missing, we knew where you’d gone— I was so scared for you, pup, I’ve never in my life been more scared.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles into his godfather’s cloak, “but I had to—“

“Shut up,” Sirius says without true anger, irritable and fond, “I know.”

The Weasleys are next, and Harry’s face almost crumples into tears when he sees Fred on his feet next to George— that had been the closest call yet, and thank god for the twins’ Defense line of Wheezes, Hermione finds herself thinking fervently, thank god they’d all worn those cleverly Shield-charmed robes into this battle just in case, thank god. 

Bill yanks Ron into an embrace that looks like it hurts, one the rest of their brothers pile into as well, and Ginny collides with Hermione a heartbeat later.

Remus peels away after a long while to return to where Parvati is tending lovingly to Lavender’s new scars, and Cedric and Neville and Luna cluster in at that point, demanding to know what Harry was thinking, going off on his own, he scared them half to death, you shouldn’t listen to the wrackspurts, you know. Seamus and Dean are leaning into each other, half-asleep on an out-of-the-way bench, hands tangled together on Dean’s knee. Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott and a few of the other Slytherins who snuck back in to aid the fight against the Death Eaters are economically directing younger students in where to bring food and water and potion supplies to aid the Healers. Oliver Wood is busy nearby helping little Colin Creevy drink shakily from a conjured glass of water. Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan are deep in a discussion with Tonks, the three of them worn out and battered but standing strong. 

All around them, their friends and classmates are helping one another with absolute disregard to the house colors on their ties, and Hermione can’t help thinking that this is what the four founders wanted from their school in the first place. Unity despite all odds, in face of great danger, after impossible hardship. 

Molly and Sirius are fussing over Harry, Ron and Hermione with an air of great relief that they’re there to be fussed over at all. Neville is hugging Harry as though he might disappear again if Neville lets go. Through everything Hermione clutches Harry’s hand in one of hers and Ron’s in the other, and thinks of how fortunate she is. 

Not lucky. She worked, studied, fought too hard for this to lay it all at luck’s feet. But certainly fortunate. 

         They go to sleep in Gryffindor tower because it makes sense at the time. Even after a year away, the common room feels like home, and they don’t make it much father than one of the overstuffed sofas in front of the hearth. 

They’re too tired to bother starting a fire or transfiguring the sofa, they just pile onto it together in a tangle of sore limbs and dirty robes. 

Crookshanks hops to the arm of the couch and settles there with a throaty purr, Hedwig hoots gently from her perch on the mantle, Pig takes a victorious lap around the room and collides with an armchair in his enthusiasm, and Ron has no clue how any of them got here, and not enough energy or higher brain function left to puzzle it out. 

“Feels weird to be back,” Ron mumbles. 

“A bit,” says Hermione. Her voice is hoarse with exhaustion but the words come rolling out with tired precision, the way a textbook would probably talk, a dry whisper of turning pages. “I almost wondered if I’d ever see the common room again. I planned to sit for my N.E.W.T.s eventually, of course, but not to come back for another year of classes.”

“Of course,” Ron says fondly. He, for one, definitely hadn’t thought about school even once during the year he lived as a fugitive. 

“I didn’t think I’d get to see either of you again,” Harry confesses in a very quiet voice. 

Ron clutches him closer, his grip probably bruising. He thinks of Harry in the Forbidden Forest, making them promise not to follow any farther. Tucking one Hallow into his pocket and draping another around his shoulders, disappearing into the dark, his voice disembodied and already too far away when he said goodbye.

“You can’t get rid of us that easily,” Hermione informs him, much like she did after Dumbledore’s funeral.

Harry makes a soft noise, something between a sob and a laugh— like anything about this has been easy— and then he’s finally gone, heavy and quiet against Ron’s chest, heart beating I’m here, I’m here, I’m still here.

That certain rhythm of it is the only reason Ron is lulled to sleep, too. 

He wakes up again sometime later, senses heightened by living life on the run and with danger around every corner, to a collective murmur of familiar voices. 

“Whazzit,” he mumbles, and feels a hand on his hair. 

“Hush, Ron,” says Percy. “Go back to sleep.”

The couch rocks a bit and reforms very gently beneath him, into something that feels more like a bed. Someone arranges a thick blanket over him next, smoothing it out carefully. Even with more room to spread out, Hermione and Harry cluster close to him in the middle, and when no one tries to take them away, Ron drifts warily back in the general direction of sleep. 

A few people laugh from somewhere above him, and the sound of it is kind. Remus says, “Let’s see that they aren’t bothered, shall we?”

A worthy ambition, Ron thinks, and buries his nose in Harry’s hair before drifting off again. 

         Harry’s bedroom at Grimmauld Place is open and airy, with a huge window to let in natural light and walls done in warm, muted colors. The far wall is made up of shelves, filled with books and souvenirs and mismatched odds and ends. A paper bird in weathered green takes place of pride on the nightstand, next to a potted plant from Neville, and there are photos everywhere of Harry’s friends, his family, his parents. 

There are plenty of guest bedrooms, all of them just as pleasant if much less personal, but Hermione likes to think that she and Ron have earned themselves the indulgence of sharing Harry’s. 

Sirius and Remus trade knowing looks now and then when the three of them tumble into the kitchen for breakfast, but they’ve yet to comment.

“Merlin, mate,” Ron says, stretching out comfortably on Harry’s bed, “remember how terrifying your house was four years ago? You lot have done wonders here since then.”

Harry grins. A week after the battle of Hogwarts, his brown skin is back to its healthy pallor, and most of the gaunt shadows are gone from his face. 

He’s lovely, Hermione thinks, and leans against Ron’s shoulder to listen as Harry tells the story of when he and Sirius got lost in the wizard space basement and had to send Remus a Patronus for rescue. Hermione has heard this story before, but she’s happy to hear it again. 

Especially when the sound of Harry’s bright voice draws Sirius into the room, and the resulting antics are enough to make Harry and Ron laugh for the first time in what feels like a year. 

Harry still hasn’t talked about some of the things he had to do when he was alone, those things that give him nightmares and wake him breathless in the middle of the night, but they won’t push if he’s not ready. 

And Hermione would listen to the same silly story a hundred times, she thinks, if it meant she could hear them laugh. 

         The world moves on eventually, as it always does, and survivors build new walls out of the rubble the war left behind. Kingsley makes an impressive, unflappable Minister, and everyone of age who fought for the Order is offered a place in Auror training if they want it. 

To the surprise of many, the Boy Who Lived turns the offer down. 

He shouldn’t have to justify his choices, but he stands in front of the press and does exactly that. He says he’s had enough fighting, that it was never a life he would have chosen for himself, that he would like some time to himself now to compartmentalize. 

“But what will you do?” demands a reporter, as though there’s nothing Harry could devote his time to that was worth more than heroics in the name of the Ministry. 

“I never got the chance to sit my N.E.W.T.s,” Harry says implacably, hands in his pockets, a defiant slouch in his shoulders. Not yet eighteen and newly unburdened, his scar a quiet reminder and nothing more. “After that, I might try teaching. One of my guardians, Remus Lupin, taught Defense at Hogwarts in my third year and he was brilliant. If I could be half the professor he was, I’d be alright with that.”

Ron could burst, he’s so proud. The minute Kingsley steps out and they can duck away from the cameras, Ron throws an around Harry’s shoulders and kisses the side of his head with an audible smack. 

“You handled those knobs like a professional, mate! Knew you had it in you!”

Harry laughs, stumbling, and Hermione says, “I hope you meant what you said about teaching. Professor McGonagall will definitely hold you to it, you know.”

“Unless I fail all my exams,” Harry points out cheerfully, and Hermione’s hair bristles with her indignation until she looks charmingly like a Pygmy Puff.

They spend the rest of the afternoon arguing amiably about classes and N.E.W.T.s and the curse on the DADA position at Hogwarts and whether or not someone who survived the killing curse twice could break the jinx on the job. 

More than a few people stare and whisper as they go by. But Ron keeps his arm around Harry’s shoulder, and Hermione keeps him talking, and they get home to Grimmauld Place with his smile intact, and that is a victory every bit as important as any other. 

         When Harry talks about the future, his narrative is very singular. He seems to think Ron and Hermione have plans that don’t include him, that they’re going to get married and raise children and only have him around for dinner or tea a few nights a week, probably because of the comments Molly and Andromeda and the like have made. 

It’s terribly presumptuous of them. If someone would only bring it up in front of Hermione, she’d be happy to set them straight once and for all. 

On an unremarkable afternoon in early September, Hermione is sitting at a table in the sprawling Black family library, studying a tome on alchemy that was banned about a hundred years ago. Ron is lounging in an armchair with a temperamental book on breaking curses open in his lap, lips moving silently as he reads.

Harry enjoys even their quiet company, and sits across the table from Hermione with a friendly snake from the garden that he met several years ago wound around his wrist. 

“I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to this,” he says offhand. He’s looking down at the snake, affectionately named Snuffles just to annoy his godfather, so his words have an accidental hiss to them that might be off-putting to a stranger.

Hermione thinks it’s rather cute.

“Used to what, mate?” Ron asks without looking up from his book. 

“You know— having the two of you here all the time. I’ll miss you when you leave.”

Hermione says, “One moment,” and finishes copying down her final notes. Behind her, she can hear Ron heave his heavy book shut. 

Only when she’s finished, quill set neatly aside, does Hermione look up, fold her hands, and ask, “Do you want us to leave?”

“No! Of course not, I didn’t— you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Harry says quickly. Snuffles is rearing up to look at Hermione across the table, tongue flicking as he scents for the source of Harry’s sudden distress. “I just— wondered what your plans were.”

“I’m writing mum again,” Ron says sourly. “And if she says one more thing to you about me or ‘Mione getting married, I’m sending a Yell Bell.”

Hermione smiles at the very thought. Yell Bells are the twins’ own patented version of the classic Howler, and they’re a hundred times more obnoxious on sheer principle. 

Harry looks nonplussed by the turn this conversation has taken. There’s something wary in his green eyes that Hermione hates to see. She reaches across the table for his hands. 

“Our plans and yours need to match,” she says patiently. “Wherever we’re going, we’re going together. And I’m certainly not getting married, I’ll tell you that right now.”

Hermione isn’t sure she believes in the constitution of marriage. A bonding ceremony between the three of them might be appropriate, though, when they’re all much older. She’ll have to research those, or maybe ask Sirius about them. His ceremony with Remus was lovely, after all. 

“I mean after that,” Harry says with great caution. “After everything. When you— you know, want to have your own house and your own family— “

Ron appears to lose patience with the world in general. He shoves the ancient book off his lap, gets up and stalks round the table, and pulls Harry half out of his chair for a  proper kiss, while the words are still tumbling uncertainly out of his mouth. 

Hermione is slightly cross he beat her to it. 

“Oh,” Harry says at length, dusky skin flushed, wide eyes like lightning. He darts a look at Hermione, who tightens her hold on his hands. 

“Yeah, oh,” Ron says irritably. “Now quit writing yourself out of our lives, you prat.”

“I love you and Ron,” Hermione says with significantly more decorum. “Both of you. And Ron is the same. If this isn’t what you want, we’re happy just to remain your friends. But Harry,” Hermione says, “we aren’t ever going to leave you.” 

Snuffles drapes his tail over Hermione’s wrist from where he’s looped around Harry’s arm. Harry snatches at a Ron with his other hand, as if to make sure he’s not going to do a runner. 

He’s bright, vibrant, voice tumbling earnestly, “I love you, too, both of you. Of course I do. Just— I’ve never— can I have a little time to think about this?”

“Harry,” Hermione says warmly, “that’s the point I’ve been trying to make. We have all the time in the world.”

         “Moony owes me money,” Sirius says gleefully when he catches the three of them snogging in the kitchen a month later. “I knew you lot wouldn’t hold out longer than three months.”

“A little restraint in the future, please,” calls Remus from the sitting room. 

“Sirius,” Harry moans behind his hands. “Quit betting money on us. Get a real job.”

“Sorry, pup, but the Blacks are the most wealthy family in the wizarding world. We’re set for life. Embarrassing you is my job.”

But he’s happy for them, Ron can tell. 

[jonogueirawrites]

Fate in our hands, destiny in our hearts.

Notes: ** = Elven language. AO3 I was listening to this.

Chapter summary: Diana and Fáelán meet when Aurora once again decides not to heed her older sister's advice. They spent the night finding their way through the woods, and they learn exciting things about Diana. Fáelán listens and has fun with the humans around... he even gets more than what he wanted.

Chapter 2.

And paths intertwine.

Diana was in the castle’s garden. It was surrounded by a maze made of high walls which were decorated with colorful flowers.

The gazebo provided welcome shade in the hot spring day. The birds fed from the flowers around her and the bees kept buzzing in her ears, taking her concentration away from the book in her hands.

With a loud thud, she closed the book and tossed it away in the pile of other books she had brought with her. Her legs tingled after the many hours sitting in the same position, and she stretched them massaging her skin in the process. Throwing her body back her head fell on the pillows arranged on the floor. With her eyes closed, she welcomed the breeze with a smile.

A loud giggle reached her ears, and she sat straight hiding the book she was reading under her skirt. Her younger sister turned the corner of the maze a few seconds later.

“There you are!” – Aurora exclaimed. The excitement in her voice almost made Diana roll her eyes. – “We’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Tilting her head to the right, she saw Rufus and Brenda right behind her sister. She cleaned her skirt and took the opportunity to let out a heavy sigh.

“How can I help you, Dawn?” – The question had been asked so many times it had become automatic at this point.

“I don’t want anything, Dusk.” – Brenda laughed beside her friend.

Aurora gave her a side glance, and she shrugged turning her laughter into a smile.

The trio sat around Diana, and the group started talking about the uneventful day.

“I know where we can have some fun.” – Rufus exclaimed scratching his boyish stubble while leaning on the gazebo’s rail.

Diana saw her sister’s eyes sparkle and knew where it was going.

“Absolutely not.” – She tried to say, but her words were muffled by her sister squeaks.

Brenda raised her eyes to meet Diana's, and in that brief moment, they understood each other.

“C’mon, sis. You don’t even know what it is.” – Aurora tugged her skirt like she did every time she couldn’t handle her excitement.

“Whatever it is, I will be the one who will suffer the consequences. I always have and always will.” – She readjusted her hair inside her hood.

“Aw, come on Diana! Let’s at least listen, ‘kay?” – She motioned for Rufus to continue.

“There is a party.” – Aurora threw her hands in the air and giggled. – “It is a very distinct kind of party. Only a few individuals know where it is held and when.”

“Elven?” – Diana and Aurora asked at the same time.

Rufus nodded, and Diana waved her hands.

“There is no way you are going to this party, Aurora. You know very well how dangerous it is for humans to be seen with elves! Going to some elven party kilometers away from the castle is definitely the worst idea you have ever had!” – That was one of the rare times Diana was seen with her temper shaken.

“Not every elf hates humans!” – Her voice raised in defiance. – “Many of us attend those parties…” – She never finished her sentence.

“You are royalty!” – Diana yelled.

They had never seen her yelling. It was so surprising that Aurora flinched and looked away.

Her hood was thrown back revealing the scar she hid from everyone. It crossed the left side of her face starting on her forehead and went down to her chin. It marked her cheek and played with the corner of her mouth.

No one besides her knew what happened the day she entered the study looking for her father. Her clothes and face dirty with her dripping blood.

They had access to the best healers, but even they weren’t able to prevent the scarring on her brown skin, they were, however, capable of saving her green grass eye.

Since then she started using a hood to hide her face. Her hair was also used as a shield. Long bangs that descended below her eyebrows and a braid she kept close to the left side of her face.

Diana quickly pulled the hood over her face and took deep breathes to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” – She squeezed her sister’s hand and got a small smile in return. – “You need to understand that you are not only human but royalty.” – She rested her hands on her laps. – “You are right. Not all elves hate us. But when they were expelled from our lands without any time to gather their things… There’s a lot of resentment… grudge.”

She pulled her legs closer and hugged them. They got lost in their own minds before Diana continued without looking at them.

“When grandfather was escorted out of their castle that day, things changed, and the harmony we once shared was broken, and hate filled the void that was left behind. If you go out there, one of the Préia Hinnthel might find you. Do you remember what they are?”

“Human hunters.” – Aurora answered and curled her body.

“I can’t stop you, Aurora.” – She sighed. – “But please consider my words before acting.” – Diana gathered her books and left the place.

She arrived at her room and locked the door behind her. She took the books and placed them on the bookshelf. The one she was reading that morning was hidden in a secret compartment she kept under her bed.

From the darkest part of her wardrobe, Diana retrieved a small broken mirror. She studied her features and touched her scar with her fingertips. Her lips started to tremble, and she shoved the small object back to the place it should never have left.

With a heavy sigh she took the daggers she kept hidden behind her mother’s portrait and left through the window. She headed to the forest outside the kingdom's walls and waited for her friend to come for their training.

Brenda arrived after a few hours, and they trained until the sun started to set. At first, Brenda was just her training partner, but soon Diana noticed she had abilities that went beyond the royal guard and hired her to be Aurora’s personal guard. She never expected that they would become friends but all was perfect in the end.

“Brenda.” – She sheathed her daggers. – “Don’t let her out of your sight tonight. If anything happens to her, I will have you responsible for it.”

“Have I ever failed you, Dusk?” – She asked crossing her arms over her chest.

Diana laughed and patted her shoulder. Together they went to the secret passage leading to the human’s lands.

She asked to have a bath drawn and took the time to undo her braids and brush her hair. She submerged her body in the hot water and dreamed of the hot meal that waited for her in the kitchens.

Her father hated that she never had dinner with them, but she couldn’t stand being in the same room as her grandfather. The man hated her for reasons she gave up trying to understand. Besides, the servants were good company, and she heard the kingdom's news and rumors with them.

The dinner consisted of meat and potatoes. The bread she loved eating still hot with smoke raising out of it.

Her conversation was interrupted when her older brother entered the place and stole some of her food.

“Hey, Apollo!” – She slapped his hand. – “That’s mine.” – She punched his arm.

“Ouch!” – He massaged the spot she had hit. – “Have you seen Aurora?”

“She is probably with Brenda somewhere. Why?” – She filled her mouth with a spoon full of mashed potatoes.

“The guards just spotted Préia Hinnthel lurking around the kingdom’s limits and father wants everyone inside tonight.” – He ate an olive from her plate. – “If you see her tell her not to leave the castle’s grounds.” – He left waving to her.

As soon as Apollo was out of view, she went to her bedroom. The candles were lit, and she saw the full moon on the sky through her window.

She jumped outside her window with daggers in hand and reached the ground without any sound. The stable was not far, and she saddled the first horse she saw.

The secret passage was wide and high enough for a human to pass and she forced the horse through its pitch black darkness until they reached the other side.

The horse neighed when she mounted it, and with a little help from her heels they soon rode inside the dense forest, she knew exactly where to go.

They finally reached the path that led to the nearest elven village, and she breathed a little lighter. Aurora was somewhere inside the place.

Thinking about a way to approach it without being seen, she heard the hooves of horses on the distance. By the volume and pace of their rhythm, they were close enough not to give her time to hide.

She walked in the village’s direction with the horse’s reins tightly around her hands. The group surrounded her, and she saw six elves mounted in beautiful elven horses.

“Good evening, miss…?” – She heard one of them ask and approach to have a good look at her.

“Can I help you?” – She answered turning her face in an angle he wouldn’t be able to see.

“That is a question for us to make. What would a human be doing here tonight?” – The girl’s high pitched voice came from her left.

“I’m going to a party. If there’s nothing I can do for you, please excuse me.” – She tried to walk, but her way was blocked.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone here, human?”

“If I were I wouldn’t be here.” – She moved the horse forward and heard the elf say something to her in elven.

He tried blocking her way again, but she swerved to the right and walked past him.

A tall elf approached her, and she saw his hair as white as his skin. His horse paired with hers and she felt his intense gaze. She thought he would try to stop her too, but he pulled his horse away from her and let her walk her path.

“What are you doing?” – The elven girl asked.

“She needs to be somewhere else and so do we.”

She heard them moving away and looked over her shoulder. The pale elf watched her for a few more seconds before turning and trotting to his friends’ direction.

Diana reached the place where the party was being thrown and tied her horse in the nearby tree.

“Getting here was the easiest part.” – She whispered to herself.

Pulling her hood lower, she entered the place and got lost in a sea of humans and elves. The god’s names reached her lips, and she prayed to find Aurora soon. The longer they were out, the more dangerous to go back.

She spent over an hour looking for her younger sister and was giving up her search when she saw Rufus kissing another guy in a corner of the place. She went in his direction and pulled his arm to have his full attention.

“Where is Dawn?” – She had to yell to be heard. The music deafening even her thoughts.

He pointed to a place in the far right, and she saw her dancing with Brenda. She pulled him with her and when he protested she just whispered two words in his ears.

“Préia Hinnthel.” – The color of his face was drained by terror.

The trio was found, and she led them outside only to discover her horse had been stolen.

“Where are your horses?”

“Stolen too.” – Brenda was the one who answered.

“We need to walk home then.” – She looked at the sky. – “We have more than enough time to go back. Brenda, you know what to do.”

Brenda positioned herself behind Rufus and Diana was in front of Aurora.

“Wait a minute!” – Her sister started, and she rolled her eyes. – “We are walking home? Like… on foot?”

“None of us has wings so answering your questions, yes, walking with our own feet.” – She started walking in the forest direction.

“I can’t do this.”

“Listen carefully, Aurora. We are here because you never think before you act. You are not a child anymore so stop acting like one. Do you want to be caught by the Préia Hinnthel?” – Her sister shook her head. – “Didn’t think so. Now be quiet and follow me. Do whatever Brenda or I say.”

They were walking for quite some time when Aurora asked to rest, so they sat for a couple of minutes.

Diana had the uneasy feeling they were being followed and afraid they were being hunted she restarted walking. When her sister complained, she simply told her goodbye and left her behind. Aurora ran to reach them.

Some more minutes walking and she heard a low noise nearby.

“Brenda, keep Dawn close.”

Her friend pulled Aurora and Rufus closer, and the group was attacked by a giant creature she had never seen.

Its horns pointed in her direction when it charged her. She miraculously dodged to the right. The creature was too fast, but when it had its back to her she threw her dagger, and it barely penetrated the skin.

“Brenda!” – She shouted. – “Take them out of here now.” – She rolled out of the way.

With them safe, she analyzed the situation.

The creature was fast when charging forward, but it was slow when turning. Its eyes were located on the sides of its huge head, so she had the advantage of sight. Next time it charged, she had a plan.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  The creature they were supposed to slain was nowhere to be found.

He said his farewells to his friends and started his journey home.

The moonlight lit his way between the trees, but still, his eyes were capable of seeing the corners the light couldn’t reach.

He caressed the neck of his horse and heard a loud noise coming further inside the forest. A smile found its way to his lips.

*Found you.*

Diana climbed a tree and threw a rock on the creature’s back legs. It let out a loud screech and charged her again, when it missed its target, she closed the distance between them and sliced its belly from the side.

It started to limp and lost its speed. She smiled when it attacked her once again.

“You’re dead.” – There was sadness in her voice.

She readied her daggers, but an arrow flew past her head and hit the animal right in the eye. It struggled and suddenly changed its path. In one last desperate movement, it swung its head both ways, and she noticed a weak spot on its neck. Her dagger penetrated deep into its skin, and the animal fell dead on the forest ground. She took the dagger from its neck and closed her cape close to her body.

“Brenda?” – She called, but instead of her friend, a tall, pale elf dropped from a nearby tree, his feet didn’t make a sound when they touched the ground.

They stared at each other for long seconds until Aurora came running and laughing in her direction.

“By the gods!” – She hugged her sister. – “I didn’t know you knew how to fight like that? When did you…”

“Are you alright?” – Brenda asked cutting her friend off. After a nod from Diana, she turned to the elf who watched them silently.

Aurora finally noticed the man standing a few steps away from them and hid behind her sister. Rufus stood by Brenda’s side.

*Are you one of the Préia Hinnthel?* – Diana asked in elvish for everyone’s surprise.

He raised his eyebrow and studied her from her head to her toes as he leaned on his bow and heard her ask again.

“No.” – He said in the human’s tongue. – “You don’t need to fear me. I mean you no harm.”

She watched him for a few seconds and took her sister’s hand in hers.

“Let’s go.” – She ordered and started to leave.

The elf followed them, and she kept looking over her shoulder to see how close he was.

“If you are not one of the Préia Hinnthel what is it you want from us?”

“You fought well against that creature. Most elves can’t face one alone. I never imagined I would see a human survive an encounter.” – He said honestly.

“What do you want?” – She repeated her question. Her hands itching to pick her daggers up.

He gave her a smile with one raised eyebrow.

“I can take you home. I know a faster way to the human’s kingdom.” – He leaned on a tree.

Aurora took a step forward and started talking to him.

“Oh, please! We would be very grateful for the help…”

“No.” – Diana pulled her closer.

“But Dusk…”

“Elves never give anything for humans for free.” – She saw him flash her that smile again. – “We can still…”

“You are going through the marsh aren’t you?” – She was quiet. – “It’s a fast and safe path… if the Préia Hinnthel haven’t set camp there already.”

Diana felt her sister squeezing her arm.

“We continue on our way.” – When Aurora tried to protest she stated. – “No discussion.”

The elf still followed them, and Aurora engaged him in conversation.

Diana was afraid she was going to reveal any information that could give away who they were, but apparently, her sister wasn’t as careless as she thought.

“So… what’s your name?” – She asked in a sing-song voice.

“You can call me Fáelán.”

Aurora saw Diana look over her shoulder and slow down her speed.

“What does it mean?” – She asked earnest.

“Little Wolf.” – Diana answered for him. – “A predator after all.”

He laughed, and she halted.

“You are talking about my name when yours are roughly translated to morning and evening, am I right?” – He laughed again when Aurora smiled at him, and Diana narrowed her eyes. – “Fitting.”

“Pardon?” – He heard the younger sister ask.

“You are happy and warm like the first rays of sunlight and your sister is…” – He studied her face. – “She’s the opposite. I see sadness in her eyes but also a…”

“Let’s just focus on our way, okay?”

They resumed walking.

“Say Fáelán… do you have a girlfriend?”

Diana tripped and almost fell.

“Dawn!” – She reprimanded her sister.

“It’s just a question.” – She defended herself. – “So…” – Aurora waited for his answer.

“No. I don’t, why?” – He saw Diana shaking her head and chuckled.

“Nothing.” – Aurora saw Diana let out a deep breath. – “I mean…” – She heard her sister sigh. – “Your name means wolf… a nocturnal animal… and talking about fitting names, my sister’s name means night…”

This time Diana fell but quickly got back to her feet.

“Absolutely not, Dawn.” – She walked in her sister's direction and held her hand pulling her away from him.

“What? It’s past time you got a boyfriend, and he is so gorgeous.” – She looked at him. – “And hot!”

He laughed, and Diana groaned.

“This is… no… there’s no way you will… I can find a boyfriend alone.” – She stammered an answer in the end.

“Have you ever kissed before?” – Aurora crossed her arms over her chest.

Diana didn’t know what to do. She wanted to disappear or rather drop dead.

“Good question, Dawn.” – Rufus said. – “Have you, Dusk?”

She gave the elf a quick glance before addressing them.

“We are not talking about that. Not now nor ever!” – She raised her voice. – “If you insist on the topic, I will walk away, and you will have to go with him.” – She started walking again.

Aurora laughed loud, and even Fáelán frowned at her.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” – She wiped away a tear. – “This is the fattest lie I have ever heard, Dusk. You would never leave me behind like that.” – Diana sighed. – “And as you haven’t answered the question I will take it as a no.”

The group fell silent for the next minutes. It was broken when Aurora asked him another question.

“What would you want in exchange for taking us home, Fáelán?”

He noticed Diana started to pay attention.

“Nothing that would harm you guys or humans in general.” – Diana huffed. – “Something small but important. Something that will make you remember me forever.”

She noticed he didn’t use the word 'guys' in his last sentence and turned to stare at him. If he thought, she was letting him touch her sister in any kind of way, she preferred cutting her arms off before that happened. And when she finished turning she caught him staring intensely at her.

The next half kilometer was walked in complete silence until Diana leaned on a tree and addressed Fáelán directly for the first time.

“How long would it take us to reach home if you led us?” – She didn’t turn to ask him.

The rest of the group sat on the ground, and he looked around to study the surroundings.

“One more hour if we make one stop and forty to fifty minutes if we keep the pace without stopping. Why?”

“And what do you want in return?” – She took a deep breath and walked in his direction. – “It can only be asked of me.” – She gave him an intense glare.

He laughed at her words.

“Only you can give me what I want.”

Aurora, Brenda, and Rufus stared at them. They didn’t dare to move.

“What would it be?” – She felt the muscles in her body tense.

Fáelán walked slowly and stopped less than an arm’s reach of her. He leaned on his bow and looked into her eyes.

*A kiss.* – He said in elven only for her to understand.

He saw her eyes narrow at him, and he tried to caress her cheek, but she closed her hands in tight fists, and he gave up the gesture.

Diana gave him the slightest of nods and saw his eyes widen in surprise. He took the final step that separated them and tried to take her hood away, but she held his hands and squeezed them.

He wanted to tell her that he had already seen the scar and that he didn’t care about it but decided to caress the other side of her face with the tips of his fingers instead.

The moonlight lit his face, and she finally saw how beautiful his smile was. She also noticed the small freckles on his pale skin, and when she looked up, she got lost in his onyx eyes. She could see her silhouette on them and marveled with their beauty. His long white hair reached his back and she stopped herself from running her fingers over it.

He cupped her face, and she felt the warmth radiating from his hands. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they didn’t obey her.

His soft lips touched hers, and in that brief second, she felt her body tremble. She didn’t understand what was happening. But before she could get hold of her thoughts, he parted the kiss, and she opened her eyes to see his beautiful smile one more time.

He caressed her cheek once again with his thumb and took a step back. Her skin under his touch and her breath on his skin sent waves of pleasure over his body.

They stared at each other and the moment was broken with one simple question.

“Does it mean you two are a couple now?” – Aurora asked from a distance.

Diana closed her eyes and pulled her hood even lower.

“Show us the way.”

The formation had changed, and Fáelán was at the head of the group while Diana stayed behind.

“How long before we arrive?” – Diana asked after they walked in silence for about thirty minutes.

“Not much farther, now. Probably more ten or fifteen minutes.”

“I need… I need to stop.” – She said, and they turned to look at her.

The color of her face had been drained, and her lips were white. She leaned on a tree and still almost fell.

Brenda and Aurora ran to her side and tried to help.

“Dusk? What’s wrong?” – She heard the worry in her sister’s words.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I need a two-minute rest. That’s all.” – She gave them a small smile and sat on the ground.

Not believing in her words he approached her and raised the coat that hid her body. Her hand clenched a wound, and her clothes were soaked in blood.

Aurora gasped and kneeled beside her sister. Brenda squeezed her hand and Rufus covered his mouth with his hand.

“What happened?” – Fáelán asked worriedly.

“You were right. No human is capable of facing that creature.” – She placed her hand on the wound again.

He narrowed his eyes at her and took her in his arms without a second thought.

“Put me down.” – She protested.

“You need to go to a healer right now. It is faster if I carry you and there is no way you’ll talk me out of it.”

Diana was too tired to argue, and she rested her head on the crook of his neck.

They were near home now, and Brenda showed him their secret entrance. He carried her inside and couldn’t stop thinking about how fragile that strong woman was, and how much he wanted to see her again.

They were inside the walls, and Brenda fetched a horse to take her to a healer. Rufus went to his house, and Diana told Aurora to go directly home and not tell anyone what happened.

Her sister gave her a kiss on the cheek and started crying. Brenda arrived with the horse, and he helped her to mount it.

Brenda took her to a trusted healer, and as soon as her head touched the pillow, she fell asleep.

Fáelán found his way outside again and prayed for the elven gods to keep her alive. He leaned his back on the wall, closed his eyes and felt her sultry lips on his again.

There was no doubt in his mind they would see each other one more time.

[supernatural-stuffs]

The Elemental-Part 1

A/N: Sooo while procrastinating writing part 2 to The One with the Famous Actor, I’ve decided to start a new Avengers series!!!! It’s gonna be pretty long, and a pairing will be revealed...eventually. Anywho, hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: swearing? I think that’s it

Word Count: 1,773

Pairing: Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Fire. Fire everywhere. I was running, dodging, trying to escape from it but it engulfed me, wrapping me up in its warm embrace. It didn't burn me as I thought it would, though. Instead, it raced through my veins, leaving a tingling feeling behind, bursting up through my fingertips. It made me feel powerful, strong. But this feeling didn't last for long. A dark figure emerged from the shadows. I didn't know who this dark figure was, but I knew enough to know that I should definitely be afraid of it. I scrambled away, the tingling feeling in my veins intensifying along with my heart rate.

"Please. Please, just stay away from me," I pled.

But the figure didn't stop moving, slowly getting closer and closer to me as I realized that I couldn't move. Paralyzed, by fear. I heard the loud pounding of my heart in my ears.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Wait a second. That didn't sound like my heart. That sounded like-

I shot up in bed, my tank top nearly damp with sweat. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the thumping of my heart underneath the thin fabric. It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about. Just a dream.

Another loud bang crashed through my small apartment, and I nearly fell off my bed in surprise. Apparently that part had been real.

"Y/N?" A muffled voice called from behind the door, accompanied by more banging. This, I realized, had been the sound I had been hearing in my nightmare.

I furrowed my brow. Who could possibly be banging on my door at- I checked the alarm clock on my small nightstand- 3 in the morning. And how did they know my name?

A chill shot down my spine at this realization. They had called my name. My real name. Not Victoria Alena, the alias I had been using while I was here in town. Someone had found me. And that couldn't be good news.

I looked around the tiny apartment, searching for a way to escape. My eyes lit upon the small window, and I grabbed my phone and wallet, scrambling off the bed to cross the room. But I never got there.

A loud crash resounded throughout the apartment as my door suddenly caved in. I gulped. This night was so not going how I thought it would. I turned to face the person behind the door, grabbing the gun I kept on my small dresser and clicking off the safety, pointing it at my attacker. Instead, I was met with the startling blue eyes of Captain fucking America.

"What-what are you doing here? What's going on?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but I couldn't contain my shock. 

Why was-oh shit. It wasn't just Steve Rogers who had broken down my door. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw all of them. The Avengers. Here, in my apartment. This could only mean one thing. They had found out about me. About what I had done. And now they were here to kill me, lock me up, who knows what. The point is, I was royally screwed.

Rather than answering my questions, the blond-haired super soldier stepped closer to me, almost analyzing me. He looked-well, he looked taken aback. Like he wasn't expecting me. Which was a pretty stupid reaction, considering he was the one who had broken in to my apartment.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" he asked in a low tone.

I took a step back, until my back hit the wall. I felt that all-too-familiar tingling running through my veins. No, God, please not now. I took a deep breath and attempted to steady my shaking hands on the gun. The tingling feeling subsided a little, but remained present.

"How do you know my name?" I was pleased this time, at how authoritative my voice sounded. Not weak and scared, which was how I felt inside.

Before he could answer, though, a dark-haired man with wire rimmed glasses stepped forward. Tony Stark. Even though I had only seen him a few times on the news, I could recognize him anywhere. He exuded confidence. I guess that's what being a genius billionaire does to you.

"Rogers. We need to move, now," he pressed his finger to his ear, to an earpiece, I presumed. "They're closing in."

"Miss Y/L/N. You need to come with us. Now." Captain Rogers stepped towards me, his hands moving as if he intended to grab my arm.

My heart was beating so loud in my chest I could barely hear myself think. The tingling feeling returned to my veins, and a gust of wind pushed the captain back, slamming him into Mr. Stark. They both fell in a heap on the floor. The rest of the Avengers tensed, readying themselves for a fight.

"Fuck," I muttered underneath my breath. My hands grew hot, and I clenched my fists together, trying to will the feeling to go away. I spoke louder, then.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Please, just leave me alone. I-I don't want to hurt you."

Stark touched his finger to his earpiece again, still on the floor. "We don't have time for this. Thor?"

A huge, hulking man stepped out from behind the group assembled in my doorway. His long blond hair scattered around his face as he lifted his hammer. I shrunk back into the wall. I couldn't control my galloping heart anymore, and my hands erupted in flames. The earth rumbled beneath me. I threw up my hands in a defensive stance, flames trailing in their wake.

"Please," I begged. I don't even know what I was asking; I was too terrified at that point to form any coherent thought.

"I am sorry, Lady Y/L/N." Thor rumbled out. And that was the last thing I heard before a bright white light erupted out of his hammer, buzzing took over my body, and everything went black.

I awoke with a start, blinking my eyes open to see pure white. That's weird, I thought. My ceiling is brown...

It all came rushing back to me in an instant. The Avengers. Thor's hammer. What had he done to me? Where had they taken me? I pushed myself up on the soft bed I was in, looking around. I was in what looked to be a small, windowless bedroom, with olive green walls and high, vaulted ceilings. Looking down at my clothes, I noticed I was still wearing the same tank top and sleep shorts. At least that hadn't changed. My eyes were drawn to the door. It didn't appear to be locked, but I didn't want to risk someone seeing me. I gnawed on my lip. They obviously didn't know I was awake yet. I didn't have much time before they came for me again.

Voices sounded from outside. I tensed. They were coming back. I knew the Avengers were supposed to be the good guys, but it was obvious their intentions with me were less than pure. My mind flashed back to last night. They're closing in. That's what Mr. Stark had said. They? Who was they? And what did they have to do with me?

I heard footsteps outside. Shit. I had to get out of here, and now. Looking around desperately, I discovered a window, about twenty feet up. Jesus Christ, what was it with me and escaping through windows?

Well, it's now or never, I thought. I took a deep breath, concentrating on the space around me, reaching out with my mind until I could feel the air currents sliding past me. I channeled them, pushing them underneath my fingertips and feet, until I was rushing upwards, flying, flying through the air. I grinned. Even though I was using my powers to escape my (possible) enemies, it was always exhilarating flying like this. I reached the window, struggling with the latch before I finally threw it open. By this time, the footsteps outside had ceased, instead giving way to the sounds of a key being inserted in a lock. Thank goodness I hadn't tried to get out that way. I was able to throw myself through the opening just as the door opened behind me. I hit the ground in a controlled fall, using the last of the wind to propel me softly down onto the earthy ground. Shouts sounded from inside my room, no doubt orders to find me.

Speaking of finding me...where the hell was I? Green earth and forest stretched out as far as the eye could see. Mountain caps dotted the sky in the distance. Mountains? Fuck. There were definitely no mountains in Louisiana. How long had I been out? And where the fuck had the Avengers taken me?

Clamor from inside the house made me start. If I was going to escape, I had to do it now, and fast. I looked to my left and right. There had to be some kind of transportation somewhere, right? And all I had to do was find it before they found me. Simple. In theory, at least.

I decided to go left, speeding as quietly as I could around the corner. But something stopped me before I could even see around the edge of the building. And that something was the very hard, very tall, very muscular body of none other than Captain America.

"Oof," I grunted, surprised to say the least.

Huge hands clamped down on my arms, preventing me from going anywhere. But I'm nothing if not stubborn. I wriggled and writhed in his grip, trying desperately to get away. The tingling feeling in my veins flared up, and I welcomed it this time. Anything to get me away from these psychopaths. Sure, I had heard the stories. Saving New York from an alien attack, defeating Loki, whatever. But who breaks into a 20-year-old girl's apartment just to knock her out and kidnap her? Psychopaths, that's who.

Anyway, back to the story. I felt my hands growing hot, and I shoved them at the captain's chest. While he might have an iron grip, he definitely was not invincible to fire, because he let me go with a yelp of pain. I took this opportunity to turn the other way. But, yet again, I was faced down with another problem, this time in the form of Sam Wilson. While less buff than Mr. Super Serum behind me, he was still scarily muscular. He might as well have been the Terminator, with what little fighting skills I possessed. I shrunk back against the wall, knowing that the other Avengers were soon to follow. My escape plan was so fucked.

[folklore-musings]

When The Curtain Falls: Scene One: A Chance Encounter (bughead)

Story Summary:  AU. Jughead wins a scholarship to one of the most prestigious arts schools in the country. His dream is to be an award winning director, but to get there he must first try his hand at acting. He wins the lead role in the senior showcase alongside Betty Cooper, daughter of the infamous actress Alice Cooper. Will Betty and Jughead crumble under the pressure, or defeat the odds set against them? Bughead slow burn leading to eventual smut.

Prologue

Read on AO3 here

I hope you like it! The next chapter will be longer I promise.

B. C.

Betty takes her time waking up, mentally and emotionally preparing herself for the day ahead. It’s the first day back and she can feel the stress already weighing down upon her shoulders. This year means everything to her.

She swings her legs out of bed, enjoying the feeling of the plush carpet between her toes before she slides her feet in a pair of slippers. Betty opens up her curtains and lets the sun shine through her window. Her sister Polly rolls over in the bed across from hers.

“Turn the light off.” Polly groans, hiding her face beneath the covers.

“Not even I can turn off the sun. Up, up, up!” Betty sings, making a point of turning on the bedroom light before she exits.

Betty and her sister share a room on the highest floor of the dorm building on campus. Assuming her mother had something to do with it, their room is more like an upscale New York loft than a dainty little student dorm. The mahogany floors are polished and the walls still smell of the fresh coat of paint applied over the summer, where they spent wasting away in the Hamptons. Besides for Veronica Lodge and Cheryl Blossom, the Coopers are the only ones on campus spoiled enough to have a kitchen in their room, complete with high end stainless steel appliances; another facet Betty is sure her mother ordered.

Her mother is Alice Cooper, famous for her multiple roles she’s had on Broadway, finally earning her ticket to the big screen two years ago. When she was their age, Alice attended New York Academy of the Arts, and she expected nothing less than the best from her two perfect daughters, and despite a rather bumpy patch the last year, Alice wasn’t disappointed. Betty is quick to shake away the thought of her mom. The day has only just begun; she doesn’t want to sour it too early on.

Betty’s quick to shower and brush her teeth, adorning herself in a pastel pink sweater and jeans. Polly still hasn’t moved since she’d left the room earlier.

Betty takes a seat in front of her vanity and turns on the lights. Each little bulb positioned around the mirror brings new life to Betty’s features. She applies her makeup, finishing off with her signature Pretty in Pink lipstick. Her blonde hair is tied back in sleek ponytail and Betty’s ready to face her last first day of high school.

“Polly, wake up.” Betty pokes and prods at her sister beneath her bedspread. “You’re going to be late.”

Polly makes an estranged noise, followed by a perfectly manicured finger giving Betty the bird. “I’ll get up when I’m good and ready.” Polly is a year older than Betty and should have graduated the year before. Due to unexpected pregnancy, Polly was forced to take a year off to stay at home with their nanny in Manhattan, ultimately giving the baby up for adoption the previous spring. Although Polly was excited to come back, Betty looks at her sister’s sleeping figure and wonders if maybe she wasn’t ready after all.

Betty throws her hands up in surrender. The clock on the wall reads that she has a half hour until class starts, but still she grabs her belongings, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You’re on your own,” and she leaves out the door, slamming it for added effect.

She takes the elevator to the ground floor, finding Veronica Lodge sitting in the lobby waiting for her, holding a venti non-fat caramel latte with her name on it. “For you Betts.”

“Thank you,” Betty says, grabbing the drink from Veronica and taking a sip. She sits down next to her on the leather bench, just outside of the Starbucks. She leans her head on her best friend’s shoulder and sighs. “Can you believe it���s our last year here?” Betty takes an appreciate glance around the lobby. The windows span from the floor to the ceiling, inviting in the natural light. There are chairs and tables spread across the expansive room, giving the students a place to hang out with their friends or study. Everything has such a modern flair to it and Betty can’t imagine what it will be like once this building is no longer her home.

“Don’t remind me. I’m not ready for the real world.” Veronica replies. “I keep messing up on my adagio. I’ve never been one for moving slow.”

Betty nudges Veronica slightly, a twinkle in her eye when she smiles. “You’ll get the hang of it V, you have the next nine months to perfect it.”

Veronica is a beautiful Latina girl, with honey colored skin and deep brown eyes. She’s classy in all the right ways and carries herself with an air of confidence Betty will never be able to compete with. Veronica is a dancer, one of the best in the school besides Cheryl Blossom. Betty met her when they both started out as freshman, two of the most famous names in the school. Betty came from a family of Broadway and Veronica came from a family of big business. Her father is one of the wealthiest men in America. He’s constantly on the cover of Forbes whereas Betty’s mother makes her way onto Cosmopolitan. They came from two different worlds with a common interest: to be the best and step out of the shadows their parents created for them. They hit it off instantly.

“Well, with my luck, Cheryl is already ten steps ahead of me. I watched her practice the other day. She improved tremendously over the summer. The only thing I got was tanner.” Veronica places her arm against Betty’s and giggles at the difference in their skin tones. “You really need to get out more Betty.”

Betty nods. “I was busy this summer! I took an acting class and spent at least an hour a day with my singing coach. The fact that I still have a voice at all is impressive in itself.” Both girls laugh heartily. “Come on, let’s get to class.”

The campus is composed of five main buildings, each facing a different direction and ironically named so, with the library centered in the middle. The South Building (facing the north) is for the dorms. Less than 200 hundred students attend the academy per year. The West Building (facing the east) is where the classrooms are located. Although it is an art’s school, everyone is still forced to take math and science just like any other high school. The East Building caters to the staff and faculty, including the admissions office and guidance counselor. And the North Building holds the food court and the theater, along with a dozen empty dance studios and music rooms. Betty and Veronica walk towards the sun, their arms linked and bracing themselves for Senior Calculus.

The morning drags on in its usual stupor. None of the classes that will actually aide in abetting Betty’s future career are scheduled until after lunch. She drones out in calculus and daydreams in Physics, thinking the clock can’t possibly move any slower. Nothing even remotely exciting happens until lunch time, when she notices a sign posted to the theater doors.

This year’s senior show will be:

LA LA LAND

Auditions will be held on Tuesday, September 12th in the main theater. I encourage every senior student to participate!

-Ms. Darbus

Already a dozen names were on the list. Betty adds hers to the next available slot. She’s known about La La Land being the feature since July – again, perks of having a mother that participates on the Board of Trustees.

“La La Land?” A cool voice drawls from behind Betty. She spins around, ending up face to face with a boy she’s never seen before. He’s tall, dark and handsome, with olive skin and deep baby blue eyes. He’s wearing a grey Tshirt with the letter “S” emblazoned on the front, and a forest green flannel tied around his waist. What catches Betty’s attention the most is the unusual shaped beanie perched atop his head. It has points like a crown, but the boy is anything but royalty. He has a quizzical expression on his face and Betty’s shocked, had this nameless stranger really never heard of La La Land?

“It’s a musical. Won a few Oscars including Best Actress, Best Original Music Score and – “

“-Best Director.” He interrupts, catching her off guard. “I’ve heard about it but never actually seen it.”

“Well, if you plan on auditioning and landing a role, I suggest you do.”

The raven haired boy quirks an eyebrow in response and grabs a pen from his pocket. He scrawls his name on the signup sheet beneath hers. “I’ll take my chances.”

Betty watches him in awe, scrunching her eyes at an attempt to read his chicken scratch handwriting. “Your name is Jughead Jones?” she asks skeptically, wondering who exactly this guy is.

“The third.” He holds out a hand and she accepts it hesitantly.

“Betty Cooper.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Betty Cooper. Maybe I’ll see you at auditions.”

Betty continues to stand there, mouth agape as he walks away. She repeats his name over again in her mind, completely baffled, wondering if it’s a stage name or just a goofy nickname he earned when he was a kid. Whatever it is, she stands there, watching him disappear into the lunch crowd itching to know more about the mysterious new kid in school.

 J. J.

Jughead replays his encounter with Betty while he waits in line for a burger at lunch. He had no idea what inclined him to audition, other than the fact that Betty would be there. The girl was beautiful, with eyes the color of lily pads and a smile as warm and inviting as the sun. She had been the one who was singing outside the steps of the library the day he arrived. He smiles to himself, wondering if she has a boyfriend and then mentally punching himself at the thought. Of course she did.

Jughead accepts his burger and pays with the swipe of his lunch card. He scans the crowd, looking for the familiar face of a friend he’d made earlier that day in his Shakespearean Sonnets class. He’s about ready to just take a seat by himself until her hears his name being called from the other end of the room. “Jughead, over here!”

Kevin Keller is sitting around a group of girls, patting the seat next to him as Jughead saunters over, sneaking fries off his tray as he does. And of course with his luck, none other than the Barbie doll Betty Cooper is sitting at the table, in the middle of all the frenzy.

Jughead takes a seat and Kevin introduces him to the group. “All, I would like you to meet Jughead.” Kevin uses his hand to cover his mouth like a screen. “Don’t ask what his real name is, he gets a little pissy.”

Jughead gives Kevin a dumbfounded look. “You do realize I can hear what you’re saying, right?”

“Ooh, attitude. I like you already. Veronica Lodge, daughter of Hiram Lodge, creator of Lodge Industries.” All Jughead hears is the word ‘lodge’ but he smiles just the same and shakes her hand.

“Jughead Jones the third, son of FP Jones, creator of dysfunctional families.”

“Boy, you will fit in right away.” Veronica laughs, nodding along with her friends. “Won’t he Betty?”

Betty coughs into her salad and dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “I think so. Although he’s never seen La La Land, so he might be a lost cause.”

“Are you still going on about that? It’s just a movie.” Jughead rolls his eyes and takes a big bite of his burger. It tastes like a little bit of heaven wrapped in a bun. He could definitely get used to the food around here.

“Anyone else thinking what I’m thinking?” Kevin asks the group curiously.

“Movie night. My dorm. Friday night. Bring your dancing shoes Jughead, and maybe we’ll teach you a few moves.” Veronica smiles slyly and takes a sip of the disgustingly green smoothie in her hand. Jughead can feel his stomach churn at the sight.

Jughead blushes and takes another bite, swallowing it down with a sip of his coke. “You never know, I could have a few tricks up my sleeve.” By the looks on their faces he could tell no one believed him, but he just shrugged and kept on eating.

“Then it’s settled. Betty and Kevin, you’ll come right?”

They both agree excitedly and suddenly the entire table is engrossed in discussing their upcoming plans and the senior musical. Jughead sits and observes as they discuss wardrobes and whether or not Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling have any chemistry. As he finishes his burger he thanks his lucky stars he applied to the Academy, already pleased with the small knit group of friends he’s made.

[deactivated4179291]

Star Crossed - Part 2 (H.S AU)

Maddie’s POV 

    The rest of my day was pretty uneventful. Grab the clothing item, fold, put in the box, repeat. Packing was tedious, to say the least. At dinner, I took note of Chuck’s absence. Did he just pack up and leave us? God, you really do exist. I’m sorry I haven’t been to church in like….9 years..oops? But hey, shout out to you homie for sending away all that is wrong in the world. Or, well..this house. My little prayer is cut short when my mom finally interrupts the only sounds that can be heard which are forks and knives knocking against our plates.

    “Chuck won’t be joining us tonight, he’s on a business trip for the next few days.” WOO! This day just get’s better and better.

    “How long is a ‘few days?’’ I gesture air quotes and raise an eyebrow at my mother.

     “Until Saturday.”

    I hum in response. On the outside I am calm, but I know that on the inside I am jumping up and down and spraying champagne everywhere. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic – but whatever it takes I am going to make the most of the time my family and I have without him in the house. As we finished dinner, plates ended up in the sink, and after my nightly routine, I had been reunited with my bed, before sleep spread throughout my body.

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

  After waking up at 11 AM, and panicking because I was supposed to meet Niall at Starbucks at 12, as we agreed on once I was awake, I somehow ended up with some makeup on, as well as a cute outfit. I wore black jeans, black ankle boots, and a gray v neck shirt. I threw my hair up into a ponytail and pulled some little strands out in the front before grabbing my keys to my car, I drove off towards the Starbucks. The only Starbucks anywhere close to the pair of us was the one inside the neighboring city. We both lived in one of the suburban cities, called Adelton. Luckily, Dalton, the neighboring city was a short drive.

  It didn’t take me long to get there because everyone was probably working so there wasn’t any traffic. I had made it to the door of the café by 11:56 and took a deep breath before slowly pushing it open, scanning the room for blonde hair and blue eyes. And then I saw him.  He was sat at one of the little tables by the window, watching the cars go by in the heart of the city where we were. Eventually, his eyes met mine and a warm, welcoming smile made its way onto his face. I gathered up all the bravery I could muster before slowly walking towards him. He was quick to stand up, pushing his chair back, causing it to squeak as it skids across the floor.

   “Hey! It’s nice to meet ye, Madeleine,” he offers, his arms stretching out for a hug. His accent is pretty interesting. I’ve never really heard accents apart from the ones here in the states. I awkwardly accept it, as strange as it may feel.

   “You can just call me Maddie,” I pull back and force a smile back to him. He nods his head toward the chair as if he is asking me to sit, which I do.

    “Crap, I’m sorry, you said that yesterday didn’t ye?”

     “No, it’s no big deal, no worries Niall.” I offer him another smile, only this time it’s real. 

  We spent the next hour going over plans for our relocation day. As it turns out, Niall already lives in the house we’re expected to occupy together. Not only that, but he has three housemates. I was not just going to be living with Niall…I was going to be living with three other strangers. Not once have I heard of newly crossed pairs having housemates. I would say four strangers, but after talking to Niall even just for a few minutes, I felt it was wrong to address him as one. He was…kind.

     “If ye want, and ye aren’t busy, you should stop by later and meet the lads. We’re having some friends over for a li’l get together tonight. It’d also be good for you to see the house so you have an idea of where you want to put yer stuff.”

    I laugh a little. “Trust me, I have nothing to do other than pack my clothes, and I am really great at procrastinating, I’d be happy to stop by.” I smile.

     “Great! I actually gotta go, ‘gotta start helping the boys get the house cleaned before people start comin’ over, they keep texting me – telling me to ‘clean my damn room,’” he chuckles, “but I’ll see you there at 5:30?”

     “Ya, I’ll see you then.”

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

     “There’s four of them?! How is that even possible?!” My mother scowls confusedly. Robin just giggles, from her spot next to my mom on the couch. I had to ask my mom if I could borrow her car because mine was running low on gas, and I forgot to fill the tank on the way home. Good job Maddie, 10/10.

     “Don’t know, but I guess I’m gonna’ find out” I shrug, chuckling. 

At that point, it was almost 4:30 so I had a little less than an hour to throw something together. Now, I am sat inside my mom’s white Volkswagen Touareg, parked in what’s supposed to be my new driveway. My fingers tap the steering wheel nervously. The house was huge and extremely beautiful. I had never seen a house this big, so I don’t know how in the hell my mom is helping pay for this. I don’t know what I did to deserve to move into this gorgeous house, to be honest. Sighing, I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out of the car, closing the door behind me and locking the vehicle, leaving it with the slew of cars in the driveway.

   I walk up towards the mahogany double doors. The sun hasn’t quite gone down yet, but it leaves an orange glow across the white concrete of the walkway, and the white house itself. I knock lightly on the door, and tug on my olive green jacket lightly, then fidget with my keys while I wait for a response. I decided to just wear what I was wearing earlier, but threw on a little more makeup, and a jacket, because there was a bit of a breeze outside today. I’ve never really been one for first-encounters. In fact, I’m actually quite shy when meeting new people. What if they didn’t like me? What if they were annoyed that someone like me was getting to move into their nice house? I really hope no one is giving their room up for me, but I also don’t want to share a bed with someone I just met…

     The door opens to reveal a giggling, crinkle-faced Niall Horan. Seeing him smile so big makes me break a small closed mouth smile on my own face.

     “Hey! Glad you could make it!”  He pulls me in for another hug, with one arm.

     “Thank you for inviting me,” I chuckle, smiling and mumbling into his shoulder. I slide my keys into my jacket pocket.

  “No, of course! I mean, after all, this is yer house too in a few days, so make yourself at home!” his tone is kind and welcoming. I guess living with him might not be as sufferable as I suspected. He nods his head towards the inside of the house and holds the door open for me.

  I mumble a quick thank you as I step past him. Wow…the outside of the house was gorgeous, but the inside definitely has it beat. The walls are a shade of gray so light it almost looks white, and the floors a dark chocolate brown shade of wood paneling. Directly to the right is the kitchen – all white cabinets, and counters, white marble countertops, and an island much like the one in my childhood home, only the stools are metal, with light teal cushions. To the left, in the middle of the large open space, there are three gray couches with red square pillows surrounding a white marble coffee table – across from which is a fireplace, with a large tv mounted on the wall. Next to that, on the left are the stairs, which I am assuming lead up to the bedrooms. On the right of the fireplace is a large hallway, which Niall leads me through.

  “The lads just went back outside to the backyard,” he scratches the back of his neck, as he walks backward whilst holding our conversation. I slide my hands into my back pants pockets and follow, “I figured it would be kind of intimidating if you walked in, and ‘dey were all just sitting around staring.” Wow, was it that obvious that I was socially awkward? I still appreciate the gesture though.

  The heels of my boots click against the floor ten more times, and we’re in front of the glass doors that lead to the backyard. People are scattered at the bottom of the porch steps, in front of a large pool. The sun causes the water to glisten as it ripples. Fuck I have to talk to people. I compose my inner thoughts when Niall opens the door for me. Immediately all of the heads – male and female turn and look at us as we step out onto the porch. My eyes land on one guy in particular - whose long brown curls reach just above his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a white tee shirt, with tight black skinny jeans, and tan brown boots. I look back up at his face only to see him smiling lopsidedly, only making him even more handsome. Shit..He knows I was staring. I avert my gaze quickly and just look down at my feet until Niall speaks. 

  “Lads come here!” Niall chirps. My head pops back up into its natural position because within an instant, three guys are making their way over to Niall and me – handsome stranger included.

  “Lads, this is Maddie, Maddie, these are your new housemates,” he nods towards the three people before me, standing at the bottom of the porch steps, smiling up at us. They seem friendly enough. I walk down, step by step.

  “Nice to meet you, Maddie, I am Louis,” The one with light brown hair and blue eyes says. When he extends his right hand, I take it shaking it gently. My eyes flicker over to the next guy.

  “Liam, good to meet you,” he offers a smile just as bright as Niall’s, shaking my hand just as Louis did. And then I look at him. He’s smiling, only this time it’s warm and inviting.

  “Harry,” he says, shaking my hand. For a few seconds, I just stare, taking in his green eyes. They’re beautiful, almost a forest green, but slightly gold in the middle. I return a smile. Someone fake coughs, making me realize I am still holding his hand, I drop it quickly and wipe the awkward smile off my face. My hands make their way into my back pockets again as the nerves settle in once more.

   Harry…I thought…not a bad name

Little did I know that very name and the face behind it would change my life forever. 

[squidmouth]

the land of daol

Raina: The night before my and JP’s landing was bizarre as it was happy, because of my friend Tracy’s 13th birthday party. After the party, on that mercurial May 25th, the air smelled of a redolent rain, and I tumbled and danced down Tracy’s lawn, waiting for a Lyft. An ebony Kia zoomed past, splashed some rainwater upon my legs, and the driver rolled down the window. The dude in the driver’s seat, a young, pale, and lanky graduate, said,

“Hey, you’re Raina, right? This must be 116 Siberia Avenue, if I followed the directions.” I tossed myself into the car, with its new car smell and some fuzzy pillows in the back seat. This environment welcomed me, and after I tossed him my debit card, he introduced himself.

“Yeah, my Lyft profile might call me Jerome, but you can call me JP. It makes me feel a little more professional. DO you like grunge, Raina? I mean, I can change it if you want.” I didn’t care much about Green Day, so I nodded in pure indifference. In a box facing me, Doritos, cookies, soda, chips, and fruit relaxed, but I already binged upon Halal hot dogs at the party. JP didn’t mind that I turned down his snacks, and I reclined in the padded backseat, texting mom,

“Hey maman, will b 🏡 soon. JP my lyft just drove onto Oceanview” JP blasted soundgarden, and from the right side of the car, an olive Corolla swerved and rammed into JP’s Kia, sending it rolling and flying into the ocean. When we were about to die of drowning, the car spun in a strange glowing tornado, and everything went black.

I don’t remember much of the dream I had, but snippets of the party aligned themselves within my dream.

JP: That morning, I woke up in a strange white bodysuit, and I felt a pain like every part of my body was getting a tattoo. Raina, the little girl who I had to take home last night, was knocked out cold. The walls were coated with marble tiles with hologram displays and glowing cracks. Eventually, our nurse, a blue-skinned elf chick entered the room, and my gut told me that I must have been dreaming. The woman said,

“Hello, human man. May I ask you to fill out this form, and ask your little girl friend there to do the same?” Her voice had the snarky and burned out sound, and I sighed and did it anyway, whispering, “Jerome Phillips Hinton, birthday: 10/09/1993, date of entry 5/26/2017, species: human… blahh blahhh blahhhh…” When I returned the magic clipboard, the nurse told me, “Jerome, the date is Nekogo 27, 2017. You’ve been knocked out for two days.

Raina woke up after a few minutes, and the nurse turned to her, and groaned, “Little girl, fill out the form. I don’t have all day.” Raina grasped the clipboard, and filled in her information. The tattoo pain I had from when I woke up was still there, and I couldn’t move much. The tired elf lady pressed the clipboard against the holograms, and they flashed our names and diagnoses: “Jerome Phillips Hinton, birthday 10/09/1993, date of admission: 5/26/2017, diagnosis: full body injury” “Raina Summer Cook, birthday: 8/20/2003, date of admission: 5/26/2017, diagnosis: full body injury’, The sound of hooves filled the air, two green-glowing sliding doors opened up, and a gnome riding a unicorn stepped in. The unicorn welcomed us with,

“Good morning, Mr. Hinton, and Miss Cook. I am Doctor Basil Sunwish. If it wasn’t for our healing team and Faer here, you two would have died horribly. Of course, the healing process wore us out, but we placed our best efforts into helping you survive the automobile crash.” Faer, the gnome, leaped down, and dusted themself off.

“Hey guys! I’m Faer! Welcome to Daol! I had a huge homework assignment to open a portal, but I accidentally opened a portal to your world, and my magic grade is terrible as it is.” Faer whined. They scratched their head, took a deep breath, and muttered, “Do you mind living with me for a few while I work on another portal to take you back home? It’s just that my older twin brother and sister are at magic school and their room is empty.”

Me and Raina had to agree, because we had no other choice.

Raina: Dust scattered across the bedroom in Faer’s family tree, where we would have to stay for an undetermined period of time. Faer giggled, “It isn’t much, you two, but you can make yourself at home.” It was an awkward situation, sharing a bunk bed with a practical stranger that was older than you, but JP didn’t mind much. Faer later reminded us,

“Guys! You’ve gotta come with me to the last day of school tomorrow! You’re my science project, and I have to present you guys as my final!” JP nodded, and I was a little anxious about returning to school after I graduated the 7th grade 5 days beforehand, even as a guest, but was school different in the world of Daol?

JP was 6’2”, and I was only 5 feet tall, so he deserved the top bunk, according to his logic. I pounced on the bed, and noticed a small bump under it. I felt underneath the bed, and it turns out, the lump was a large box.

Inside the box, lay our old clothes, the things and knick-knacks we’ve carried along with us to Daol, and a small note. The note read,

“Fixed Up By Yee-Haw Tinkers! P.S. The automobile could not be repaired, so we had to toss it aside. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.” JP became furious and gained pure fear from that little note. He roared,

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T FIX MY CAR? THAT CAR WAS MY JOB! MY LINE OF WORK! AND IT WAS DESTROYED RIGHT BEFORE YOUR EYES? FUCK YOU!” JP crumbled up the note, and catapulted it out an open door that led to a balcony, wishing the wind could send all its stupid and offensive glory to oblivion.

JP leaped onto the bed, and screamed so hard into a pillow, I had to cover my ears because he was annoyingly loud.

JP: That night, I dreamed of fairies in a city in Daol surrounding me. I remember passing by a forest of tree-buildings, and fairies flitting across the place, but this dream was quite creepy.

I travelled across the forest, and different types of creatures surrounded me. The wind blew the scent of pine into my face, and daylight lit up everything. The weirdest part was that I was still in my hospital jumpsuit, and two elves in all brown camo followed me eerily. Eventually, I stopped to play on my phone, and three more elves stopped to nab me, I paused and realized what they were going to do to me.

“GASP!” I slapped the light on, and Raina opened her golden brown eyes, and whispered, “JP, what’s wrong? I was dead asleep!” I giggled a bit, because her bleach blond hair was everywhere, and she looked like Medusa.

A clock nearby glew “0431”. It wasn’t exactly midnight, but it was early enough to be too early. I still felt anxious and I thought about how the unicorns could have been too pooped to cure my explosive anxiety. The window showed a moonless sky, and I was suffering emotionally as I climbed up the bunk bed, I remembered to turn on the light, because if I didn’t, I would feel extremely guilty.

My bed leaked a bit, and it smelled like a human armpit. The armpit-smelling sweat cavern of blankets had to do for the night. I tucked myself inside, and thought long and hard about this world’s futuristic aspects due to magic, and how I survived a car crash. I tried to comfort myself using the method of “Hey, don’t worry, JP. There’s someone else in here too, bud.”, because I had an extreme existential crisis.

This world of Daol, so far, was devoid of modern sadness, due to the discovery of magic, and all my fantasy books on Earth took place on a medieval paradise. Daol had its flaws of its own, as monsters popped up on every corner, and the concept of stuff breaking down after many years was still there. Despite the fairies in magic flying cars, the world had some primitive and Earthly issues. Gangs, tired unicorn doctors, and bullies still existed here.

After a few minutes of thinking about Daol and Earth, I fell asleep.

Raina: Other than JP’s daunting nightmares that shot him and the whole house awake, I had quite the nourishing rest. Mornings on Daol were beautiful, as the heavens were a glittery hue of pastel indigo, the air smelled of pine and maple, and clouds of white with sprinkles of gold rested in the sky.

JP was out of bed, and that left me some privacy to get dressed. I whipped on the clothes from the party: a sepia leather shrug, a goldenrod glitter tank, a skinny eggshell belt, my favorite vermillion denim knee-length skort, and orange strappy sandals. It had to do.

I peeped into the kitchen, where JP, clad in his “I hate pterodactyls” t-shirt, olive cargo shorts, and mahogany birkenstocks, feasted upon toast with peanut butter and jelly, or at least the Daolish version of it. I leaped over to the cabinets, impregnated with fragrant fairy foods, and searched for something relatively delicious.

Picking up a bag loaded with pink berries and grain clumps, I tried to search for some creamy moisture in a gelatinous blue cube with floating sustenance inside. The navy gel coated my arm with a cold blast, and I grasped a bottle of milk labelled (Suitable for Gnomes, HUmans, and Elves) I fished the human milk out of its icy indigo gel cube, and nommed the delicious berry granola.

The granola was wondrous, but the milk was the sweetness not supposed to be in sushi rice. That being said, it was an odd taste unacceptable to my taste buds when mixed with berry granola. Faer scooted into the pink kitchen from the balcony, and said,

“Hey, guys! Aren’t ya pumped? My friends Morpho and Abyssine are going to be when they see two HUMANS FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION! Come on, guys!”

I bounced out of my seat, throwing the yummy granola to the floor and awakening a temporary robot mouse army. The three of us toddled to what seemed to be a bus stop; Faer typed in a code, we landed inside a subway tram, and zoomed to Faer’s school, an array of trees of varying sizes, guarded by a magical fence.

JP: Me and Raina weren’t recognized by a magical gatekeeper, so we needed to sign into the database and wear crazy hats that said, “Hi! I’m a visitor!” We had nothing to do, other than hang out in a tree and wait like puppies in an obscure robot office.

Hours passed, and Faer swung over to the office, giggling,

“Jay! Ray! Come on, it’s lunch, and my friends are anxious to meet you!” We walked down to an overly wide tree, and a fairy and a girl with scales and tentacle hair sat down at a picnic table. Faer invited us to sit down, and told the duo,

“Morph! Abby! I want you to meet JP and Raina! They’re my science project, and they fell through a portal I made to a world where there’s no magic but electricity, and humans rule!” Morpho, the fairy, giggled and squealed, and Abyssine, the “Sea-Dweller”, let her tentacles fly with excitement and her smile. We talked a bit about our world and theirs.

The lunch whistle tweeted, and the three amigos (Faer, Raina, and I) headed off to a tree with autumnal leaves. Faer’s classroom, on the 3rd floor, was scarily round, and a diverse cast of students packed the room. The teacher, a blonde bat fairy, welcomed us with a smile. After three people presented their science projects, the teacher, Nix Wingsley, asked,

“Faer, can you present your project, please?” Faer walked up towards a button panel, placed a camera thing on a projector, and the class watched my car whoosh through a portal, and everyone in the room clapped. Two elves with t-shirts that said, “HP” came up and said,

“Miss teacher, the principal gave us permission to leave school early for uh… dentist’s practice, and we need to take that gnome’s human visitors to drive us there.” Miss Wingsley looked at them with the aura of, “Hey wait, you don’t go here! Get out!” and the elves tackled us. The evil elves from my dream were real!

Raina: “OH SHIT!” JP roared as the elves nabbed him and me. My environment grew darker as they cast a soporific spell upon us. I do not remember what happened when or how I was transported like an animal, but soon, I awoke from a magic stupor along with JP.

A group of humans, more than half of them naked, but all of them frightened, chubby, broken, and golden-toothed, approached us. JP piped up,

“Where are we? And why are there buckets of candy and a scrap blanket on the ground?” A somber human donned only in a white tank top sighed,

“Oh, it’s nice to meet a new set of humans. Welcome to the Homophobe cage, you two! How about some candy… it’s all they ever give us. That blanket was our clothes we outgrew from forced eating.”

JP couldn’t stifle a smile or devour the sweets because of the human’s welcome speech. We couldn’t bear to witness suffering persons of my own species, forced to eat twice their weight in candy, sitting about doing nothing. They almost influenced me to conform to the homophobic will and suffer as they would.

Hours passed and nearly nothing new occurred, except humans introducing themselves to me. At last, there came an event in which our cage was conveyed into a room composed of metal walls and an eldritch abomination that lay at the bottom in wait. The beast had mountains of mouths, brain-like patches with clumps of eyes, and a taste for human flesh. The Homophobes worshipped her and called her “Chag-Pn’gamaii, the wailing maiden.”

A claw descended upon our cage, tossing the roof aside, and pulling a brobdingnagian nudist by the hair, towards the mouths of Chag-Pn’gamaii, who devoured them like a wolf eating a bunny. Our fellow humans squeaked in fear, agony, and loathing, acknowledging their fate.

JP: That night I couldn’t sleep, I just shook the cage bars, trying to pull them apart, but it was no use. The bars were steel, and my hands turned to putty dealing with them. I couldn’t stand it, and I spent the whole night crying, knowing I would die at the hands of a monster. I’d lie in an unmarked grave… and my soul would die in the belly of She Whose Name Cannot Be Pronounced.

Raina kept waking up, as she failed to sleep soundly because of constant nightmares. Everytime, she cried,

“JP, I had a dream about (elves/Chag-Pn’gamaii)” Every time, the dreams were different. Once, she was nude, and the monster’s tentacles kept slapping her as she hung from a rope. Once, she was beat up by a gang of elves. Once she was in the bathroom, shivering as a set of teeth came out of the mirror.

Every single time, I rocked her, and whispered,

“Raina… please… sleep for the two of us. You’re lucky that anxiety doesn’t hurt you. Also, Raina… don’t worry, we’re going to get out of here.”

The fourth and final dream made me faint, but I was off my anxiety herbals for a while, but I felt a bit of it in my system, so I may have been good.

I didn’t dream much when I was unconscious. When I came to, the humans crowded around me, cheering because I woke up. Raina and a boy whose clothes pushed upon his skin hugged me, but Raina’s tanned arms wrapped me tighter.

Raina picked me up, and pat me on the mane and back. My new humans friends tossed me the blanket, though it smelled like the tears and sweat of a thousand sad runners. A man sewed a shirt onto the blanket, and told me about the tradition of the blanket.

“Once, a human was tossed into the homophobes’ cage, knitting a scarf which was the foundation of the blanket. That human, noticing the piles of clothes left by previous humans, had an idea. Thus, using their knowledge of sewing, the blanket was born.”

Raina: JP cuddled up by the warmth of friends, and all I could think of was the death of that enormous human, pallid and bare, and that claw The claw dropping into the cage, like a crane machine, and all I could think about was… what if that happened to me? Henceforth,

“OH MY GOD! JP! I’ve got a crazy idea, but I think it’ll work!” JP bumped his head up, and inquired,

“Raina? Wassit?” I chirped, “I know exactly how we could escape this pity cage,” bouncing on his legs. JP held his cool, even stopping to hyperventilate often. Another human popped up; a woman, paused and whimpered,

“JP, may I come closer? My only friend may die today, and at the moment, she’s the biggest one of us in the cage. Please.” My thoughts lit up, and it seemed as if JP and I could be liberated sooner than when I thought before. I whispered to JP,

“I’ve an idea, but it’s a tad savage. I thought for a moment, and I concluded that we could take the largest human’s place on the CLAW, and CLIMB IT. It could be a beacon of hope for these people, and we could overcome the homophobes.”

We later discussed climbing abilities, and it turned out that preceding his Lyft job, JP was in the mountain climbing club in High School. A fall forced him to break both legs and acquire major anxiety. I was forced into gymnastics class and a middle school gym class.

I lectured JP on our idea, pointing out that because the claw for obvious aesthetic purposes, the surface was relatively rough and crunchy, giving us an easy surface to climb. The claw also sank from the ceiling, and that we could cling upon the robe and wait until it launched up.

JP seconded the motion, and it carried on, as the humans leaped into a chorus of “Raina! JP!” chanting as the claw cascaded down, and JP and I mounted its spikes. JP’s normally olive-pale complexion grew pallid, and the wind pushed my canary curls back. A surge of hope radiated within my heart, and all we could think of was home.

JP: Oddly enough, the claw shook. The monster sniffed out fear and crawled closer to us. I wasn’t going to stand for this, so I climbed higher than I’ve climbed in my entire life. I tugged Raina’s tanned arm, and screamed,

“Raina! Hurry up! Chad-whatever is going to kill us!” Raina jumped up on the chain, and climbed halfway up to my place on the chain, and clung to it. When the claw began to fly, a familiar sound, now bursted monotonically and louder than I remember,

“Weight displaced off chain. Continue to lift.” A sliding metal door flew open, and it turned out the room where the reward for sweet escape was… a janitor’s closet?

I wish to admit this now, but that was the longest leap of faith I had made since I was born. The room was coated with floating glowing beads similar to christmas lights, and the smell of dust filled my nose. The walls had ancient (at the time) computers, and a nearby door was left ajar, letting some light in. I felt a bit nervous hiding from the crack, because only someone knows what lurked behind that door.

Raina peeped behind the door, apparently searching for guards. I hid in the corner, hoping for a sign. Raina stepped out into the world, but then, she screamed,

“JP! JP! Help! A group of ferocious beasts has me by the hair! JP! Help me!” Dammit, Raina’s in trouble! If you go out there, you’ll die! I thought as the sound of a bar fight between Satan, Cthulhu, and a billion children burst through the halls. And just like that, Raina was gone.

All I would have done to save her… gone in an instant. Raina was left for dead. This could have been illegal on this world! I booted up my cell, realizing what I could do now, and did something booted by sympathy for a new friend.

Raina: After the humanoid abominations tore at my teenage flesh, broke my right arm and my left arm’s fingers, and bruised my face, they tossed me in the cage again.

Those humanoid freaks were just beyond imagination and cheesy horror picture shows. Their eyes, insectoid in nature, with a last flicker of humanity trapped within them, coated their bodies. They reeked of old mustard, cat piss, and burning plastic. Their teeth were knives, and their horns were obsidian spikes poking out of their greyed flesh. All across their 9 foot bodies, were tentacles with mouths at the end.

The cage humans peeped up at the guard-abominations and sobbed a little. I inquired,

“My buddies, what’s wrong? What have they done wrong to you?” A woman piped up,

“I gave birth, and my baby was stolen by the homophobes. When my precious darling came back, they ruined him so much, and he joined the monster guards!” The woman held me tighter than bark on a tree, and the world spun around me. I awaited my doom, yet I felt safe in the cage, waiting to be consumed by Chag-Pn’gamaii for her sustenance.

The howling music of a distant wind burst through the door as a band of oddly-dressed scifi warriors coated with diversity shot the beasts with magical chrome laser guns, stormed the cage, and snipped it open with magic lockpicks.

There, in the midst of the officers, was JP, screaming for me,

“Raina! Raina! Get out! Come on!” I dashed out of the now-destroyed cage, fearing for my existence. An officer disarmed, and chortled to me,

“Kiddo, thank you for helping us find the homophobe base. Without you, thousands upon thousands of people would have died.” JP pointed over in my direction, and asked for a lift over to a very special friend’s tree.

JP: “At last, we’ve arrived” Raina giggled to the cop driving us to the tree. We popped out of the car, and there at the door, smiled a little ray of genderless sunshine.

“Hey guys! Where were you? I’ve wanted to take you home since the day after I met you!” Faer, who was glowing brighter today with happiness, welcomed us into their tree, allowing us to chill out on the couches for a while while Faer brought some snacks. Raina and I hung out on the cloud-shaped couch, and Faer asked us,

“Raina! JP! I remembered those guys taking you away! What happened after they took you away?” I was too anxious to explain, so Raina took the reins and told the Homophobe story.

After the wild and weird tales of the Homophobes, Faer led us out to the backyard, and I was curious as to where my car was, but Faer announced,

“Don’t worry, JP! I’ve sent it back to your home dimension!” They drew a magic circle on the dirt, told us to stand on top of it, used their “science wand”, and returned us home.

At least we returned to the beach near our home. The car was ripped to tatters, and I knew, with this situation, Geico would practically tear off my ass, roast it on an open fire, and feed it to a pack of wolves because of this. After what happened with my mental health, the giant Horrorterror, and her multiple evil seeds, I would have to up my herb dose.

Raina didn’t seem to care, except for the tears that rained from her eyes. She seemed to have a broken look in her eyes, and and she could think of was what happened over the last week. I could sympathise with her, as we were both extremely impacted by the event,

Anxiety flared up again because I needed to get Raina home, and my car died because of something Geico would not cover, not ever. Then, I remembered that whenever you’re at your weakest, your enemies could be there to help you. I called an Uber.

Raina: Kimmy, the Uber driver, was quite open-hearted, and when she transported JP to his home, he requested,

“Miss, can you make a special stop at 758 Sarah Drive?” and Kimmy took a mild detour towards my location. In my house at Sarah Drive, my parents waited sobbing. Alas, I returned to their supervision, gaining the unusual,

“Raina! Where were you? You got in a car crash, and we had cops looking everywhere for you, and they couldn’t find you! We thought you died!” Mom’s makeup streamed down her face, and dad’s nose was almost always censored by Kleenex. Mom and Dad called all their friends, and a great gross times a thousand cars arrived at the scene.

Every newscaster in the city, and JP, pushed so close to me. Paparazzi stormed my house. Forensic scientists had me stamp my fingers on a piece of paper. My visage was spray-painted across the internet, and pastors displayed my story as an example about how God is good and could save you at the last moment.

When I sobbed to them about the land of Daol, few believed me and a chorus of skeptics complained,

“Raina! Tell us the REAL story (a bastardized myth manufactured by a skeptic about me and JP surviving off raw fish in a floating car), not this Terry Pratchett bullcrap!” I exposed pictures of Chag-Pn’gamaii and the tree-apartments. The skeptics booed me, and I knew my 15 minutes of fame sank to the bottom of the abyss.

My summer was destroyed, and people whined that my experiences were fantastic, and that I was a stupid kid with a wicked sweet imagination. I could hardly breathe, and they cracked and broke me. The skeptics spread the bastardized tale across the web, and they told everyone that Daol was a dream, though JP backed me up on it.

JP: After Raina dragged along to gather fame for the two of us, I fought with Geico to get my car and job back, and I couldn’t deal to listen to the bullcrap they flung at me, even though I was famous for one second, which I didn’t even get paid for.

My roommate Tommy luckily got a job, so that was a little lift for the two of us. Tommy also started shaving, using female pronouns, and using the name Lulu Aradia, so at least she was happy.

I would never see Raina for many years, but if she was happy, I hoped she lived a beautiful life. We saved each other’s lives in Daol, but from that day, Raina and I were the fountain of knowledge for somewhere only we know.

Years later, I’m 35 years old, I have a pregnant wife, a successful job at AmTrak, and 2 cats (Beowbie and Princess), That day, my wife, Adora, and I rush off to a parenting down in Port St. Lucie, and the place is packed. I sit down next to a woman with warm golden brown eyes, dark skin, and sunshine canary hair. She is assisted by two people who I assume are her friends, but they turn out to be her husband and wife. The teacher announces an icebreaker, where you say your name, and you say something about you that rhymes or begins with the first letter of your name.

When it’s my turn, I say, “My name’s Jerome, and I like Jazz.” The dark blonde woman next to me gives me a look of surprise, intrigue, and betrayal, all in one piece. Her husband then goes next, and then nudges her to speak up. The woman pipes up,

“My name is Raina, and I had a grandma who lived in Spain-a.” My eyes water, and I mutter, “RAINA COOK?” She sobs, “JP? My name’s Raina Armitage now… I’m married to a lovely man and woman. All those years ago, when you were a Lyft driver, and I saved our lives, I’m a manager at Disneyworld!” I told her that I work at AmTrak as an engineer. When I notice her Spiderman shirt, I know she was right about working at Disney. We nearly skip class to have a very tearsome reunion.

[gratefulpretender]

The Valaraug

Chapter 1

He padded silently through the trees as I chased after him, my footsteps beating in comparison, in the too quiet forest. I strained to see him through the fog as he weaved through the trees with ease, his hair flowing behind him. He stopped and smiled teasingly, as if to make sure I was still chasing, before swinging around the next tree. He moved so swiftly it was almost impossible to keep up. I no longer knew where we were or what direction we were headed just that I needed to catch him. I broke through the trees and stopped in my tracks, it was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. We were in a clearing the water had cut into the trees with just one path leading through, I found him there. He settled under a stand-alone tree in the middle of the path. It’s pale bark contrasted sharply with the dark pool of water created by its large canopy. In the darkness I could just see the silhouette of him looking up into the branched, I faintly wondered what was up there, but I was enchanted by the tree. I placed my hand on the ash colored bark and felt it pulse under my fingertips, like a drumming heartbeat. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me, then I felt the warmth as his hand as it encircled mine. He lay my palm on his chest, the soft thrumming heartbeat was in sync with the drumming of the tree. He brushed his hand across my cheek, the skin was rough and calloused from work but his touch was as gentle as a breath. I looked up into his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, I’d finally caught him.

My eyes slammed open, the blaring of my alarm clock throwing me into consciousness with force. Why did it feel like I knew him so well. My body felt warm and was slow to get up. I felt my heart racing, probably from the suddenness of my alarm clock, as I swung my feet over the side of the bed. I wish I could remember my dreams but no matter how hard I tried I never could, it faded deeper into the dark waters of my memory until I could no longer see it at all. My tattered sneakers rested in their place beside my nightstand. I slipped them on, finding comfort in their familiar shape. My clothes litter the floor in a way that to anyone else looked like a total mess. I grabbed my sweatpants out of the corner and an old orange T-shirt I got from summer camp a couple years ago.

I took a deep breath of the fresh northern air as I stepped off my porch, it’s only a few feet from there to my normal path. The familiar dark emerald wall of trees flashed by me as a ran my trail through the forest. It was quiet, nothing but the birds and the soft tap of my shoes hitting dirt. I find it beautiful this early in the morning, the sun hasn’t yet cracked the surface of the sky and everything is bathed in a gray light. I lept over tree roots that had twisted their way onto the beaten path that over the years I have learned my way around. I have been coming out here ever since I was a kid, I’ve always felt at home out here; a sense of peace.

I bounded into the yard and through our ugly yellow door, mom thought it would brighten the place up. I could smell the pancakes as soon as I opened the door. Mom stood in the kitchen in her usual bright green and purple striped apron, her long pale blonde hair was tied back with a neon pink scrunchy, I wished for the hundredth time I’d gotten her beautiful hair. “Out running again? You know it’s dangerous out in those wood, people have been hearing wolves.” She turned, I could see the worry in the line of her forehead, though she tried to hide it, with a smirk she said. “At least you’re wearing orange.” She worried too much in my opinion. “Thanks mom.” I hugged her and grabbed some pancakes, I finished them quickly and jogged up stairs for a shower.

I rubbed the fog off my bathroom mirror, it was the first time I’d seen myself today. My hair was a damp mess of long wavy curls and my face had no makeup, mom said with my eyes I don’t need it and she’s right. My eyes are an impossible shade of electric blue, mom loves them and tells me how beautiful I am but most people find it unsettling; I don’t blame them. I’d rather not use makeup to call attention to them if at all possible. I wore my raggedy old jeans, you could see the skin on my knees and thigh from the holes I had worn in them, and a light blue T-shirt. I slipped on my sneakers feeling there comfort once more and grabbed my dad's ring before closing my bedroom door behind me.

It’s just me and mom these days, my dad passed away when I was little; I don't remember anything about him and mom would obviously rather not talk about him. The one thing she did tell me, last year for my birthday, was he had a ring that had his family crest on it, my family crest, and he’d wanted me to have it. It was a beautiful silver ring with a sapphire gem and a star carved on either side, it was obvious it was suppose to go to a son and wouldn’t fit on my to small fingers. So I wear it on a silver chain around my neck, the only thing I have tying me to a family I've never known.

I walked outside to my mom’s old car, it’s white paint was chipped off in some places and the hood had a big dent that was there when we got it. Mom gave it to me when I got my licence because her new job has here working odd hours and she didn't want me walking to school. I threw my heavy bag into the passenger seat, Josh is going to drive himself to school because he has something to do after class today. Normally we ride together, he lives a few miles away just on the edge of town in this super nice gated community, his dad does high end security. We’ve known each other since we were kids, when we were in kindergarten he came up to me on the first day and told me I smelled weird, anyone else might have been offended but he was the first person ever to not say something about my eyes, we’ve been best friends ever since.

I pulled into the parking lot and parked in the only spot I could find next to a motorcycle I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, it was black and said ‘Harley Davidson’ down the tank. I could only see the back of the guy that seemed to be the owner of it. He was tall and lean with olive colored skin, he wore a leather jacket on and the top half of his straight shoulder length black hair was tied back with what looked like a strip of leather. I’d definitely never seen him before. I was pulled out of my train of thought when someone grabbed my arm “Hey Sky.” I knew who it was before I even turned around. I’d probably heard his voice more than my own, deep and gentle, Josh. I turned to look at him and thinking about him when we were kids earlier and seeing him now was completely different. He easily dwarfed me, standing at 5’5” and 6’3”, he was almost a foot taller than me and was probably twice my size. It happened the summer before freshman year, he got insanely tall in the span of a couple months, he reminds me of a bear with all the muscle he’s put on from helping his uncle at his scrap yard. “What were you staring at?” he asked looking half curious and half concerned.

“Nothing. Just spaced out.” I didn’t want to talk about the guy with the motorcycle, I got the feeling Josh would get the wrong idea. I looked over to our normal spot by the stairs and found Natalie, Natalie was a head cheerleader and for some reason made it her life's goal to make my life miserable every chance she got. She was with Chris, Chris was the captain of the football team, and the rest of their clich. I guess she is starting today by taking our place in the courtyard, as long as she doesn’t see me I don’t care.

I didn’t see the long haired guy again that day, he wasn’t even at lunch. I wasn’t looking for him or anything I was just curious, but he never showed up. The halls were swiftly clearing out as I grabbed my books from my locker, I was walking to my car when Coach Taylor stopped me. “I noticed your name’s not on my roster this year.” she said expectantly, I sighed “Come sit in my office for a second.” Coach Taylor is my neighbor and saw me running in the morning a couple years ago and has been trying to get me to join the track team ever since. “You could be a star if you’d just join the team, not to mention the scholarships you could get.” She doesn’t understand that I don’t want to be a star. Track is a solo event, all eyes on you, that kind of attention is the last thing I need. As she continued to talk the hall turned into a ghost town, I started counting the tiles on the floor of her office.

I think she got the impression that I wasn’t listening because she wrapped up her lecture, by that time the parking lot was completely bare. Mom’s going to wonder where I’ve been, it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight. I try to start my car and it makes a horrible grinding noise like forks in a blender. Oh great, and everyone is gone. I was about to get out and check under the hood then I heard a roar of an engine, when looked out my window it was the guy on the motorcycle. He peered through my open window, “Car won’t start?”

Shocked I waited a second to long to answer him. “Yeah... I mean no, it won’t.”

“I could give you a ride if you want.” I looked skeptically at the motorcycle. I had a feeling that if I showed up at home on a motorcycle mom would have a heart attack. He smiled broadly. “Come on, I won’t bite.” Something about his smile reassured me that it would be okay

“Okay.” I agreed, worry starting to sink back in as I climbed on the bike.

My bag thudded heavily on the small of my back, it was the only familiar thing in this scene. My fists were tightly wound into his shirt, I could feel his heartbeat as the wind blew my hair around wildly. He said something that sounded like another apology for not having a helmet but the wind whipped it away. Banking around a turn I grabbed onto him tightly, burying my face in his shoulders, he smelled like the ocean, salty but not in a bad way. I felt his muscles contract when he chuckle and my face immediately turned red, I pushed myself away from him but clung back to him almost immediately as we made another corner

“Thanks for the ride.” I said my face still burning as a got off the bike.

“No problem, I’ll try and have a helmet for you next time.”

“Next tim-?” Mom cut me off with “There you are, I was worried sick.”

“See you tomorrow.” He said as he kicked his bike back on and headed back down my rode.

“Who was that?” Mom asked.

“I’m not sure.”