#no worries little overland your in good hands

[goldenslumbersketchbook]

Sketchbook Log: Jack never came to walk his sister home from elementary school and he won’t pick up his phone. Something is wrong she can sense it. She goes looking in town on her own but it soon gets dark out. Thankfully she is spotted by a familiar face who’ll help.

Song while drawing ✍🏼

[blkmxrvel]

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (30) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

[previous] | [masterlist]

Little Y/N/N,

Good to hear you and the loud one (I’m kidding don’t kill me) are settled in. Ma’am says she “finds the pictures acceptable, but please tell Kara we need to talk about the color scheme in the living room.” (Actually had to give her the laptop.)

Back to me now. Sam’s good, her and Lena are just spending their time spoiling the monkey face. I finally have babysitting privileges. Brainy took the Paternity  test. It would’ve been nice for him to be a dad, but Lana’s looks are scary so I’m glad it came back negative. And Ma’am and I got some brochures from an adoption agency yesterday; we’re going to see about maybe a kid of our own.

Don’t worry about Kara finding a role. Ma’am says it’s a tough business but if anybody can break into it Kara can. Oh, thought you’d like to know that Schott got arrested for taking bribes from Willis. So now all his cases are being reviewed. Dunno what that means for yours, but Ma’am says not to worry, she’ll let you know. And Sam and Lucy are on top of it too.

I gotta go cause it’s roleplaying ni grefsrersl  cause Ma’am says so, but I’ll write again soon.

Miss you, Little Y/N/N. Love ya.

Maggie

Y/N closed her laptop with a smile; she’d answer Maggie later. She sipped the last of her tea and glanced out of the shop, seeing the sun beginning to slip down. It had been a good day, her first at the bookstore. Her boss was nice, a sweet little submissive who was pleased that Y/N knew so much about art and Broadway, and Y/N got a 20% discount on books. Mistress was limiting her to two books a month though – “Just for now,” she had said – because they were just starting out and she knew Y/N would buy out the store if she could.

Today was also Mistress’s first day, at an off-off-Broadway workshop, and Y/N couldn’t wait to ask her how it had gone. She knew Mistress was in a hurry to win a good role, because she wanted success for herself and Y/N, and to get them both out of the small apartment in a moderately good but still not the best neighborhood. But it would come in time, Y/N had reassured her, and after all, they’d only been in New York a month.

She was on her way, and so was Mistress.

And the apartment might be small, but it was theirs. It was on the 4th floor but thankfully there was an elevator, and Mistress had been glad that there was a doorman for a little added sense of security. They had decorated it together, though apparently Alex didn’t agree with the shade of green they’d chosen for the living room. Y/N could only imagine what Mistress would say to that, and she laughed softly.

As if on cue, she felt someone slip in next to her and clear their throat expectantly, and that’s when Y/N realized.

The sun was going down.

Oops.

“I was supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“That you were,” Mistress said, but she wasn’t angry, and she rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder. This was Y/N’s favorite shop besides the bookstore, and Mistress knew that if Y/N wasn’t to be found, she’d usually be here, just two blocks from their apartment.

“I’m sorry, Mistress.” Y/N tilted her face to kiss her forehead.

“Mmhm,” Mistress hummed. “When we get back to the apartment, for an hour you’ll spend 3 minutes of every 10 in the corner. Perhaps that will help you remember the importance of time.”

“Yes, Mistress,’ Y/N answered, and smiled as she began running her fingers through Y/N’s hair.

“Are you sure you like it?”

“I told you I did,” Mistress said, toying with the cropped pink strands. “It’s a good look for you. And very, very hot.”

“Mm, good to know,” Y/N said, kissing her. “I think I’ll keep it this way for a while, then.”

“Let’s get home now,” Mistress said. “Theo missed you.”

“Just Theo?” Y/N teased, standing up and shouldering her bag as Mistress circled her hand around her wrist, holding her protectively.

“No, not just Theo, you little brat,” Mistress said with a roll of her eyes.  “I missed you too. And I was worried. I thought you’d forgotten your way home.”

Y/N shook her head and stopped in the middle of a busy New York evening to hug her Mistress, and kiss her with as much love as she possibly could.

“I could never forget my way to you.”

FIN

[warwaited]

"Pardon me for wanting to take my deep breaths while preparing for the task ahead. While you know I put stern faith in your risk assessment..." She trails off with a quiet grimace and reaches for the goblet. It's a rough-made thing, somewhat tarnished and missing a couple of the gems that had once been set into its frame. Still, though, the drink inside is good, and when Rakatak lowers the "chalice", it's with a slightly warmer look in her eye.

"...we did do well, you know. Walk along the riverside for you and I, but I had concerns about our fellows that they managed to allay quite expertly. Even if I do dedicate much of this evening to making sure we're prepared for tomorrow... I should go and congratulate them at some point. Be seen to be among them." Thinking politically yet again, though for a good end.

The hobgoblin looks back towards the entrance of the half-collapsed hut with a light smirk. "To say nothing of the asset these tieflings may prove to be later down the line. If something must stand between us and things we would rather stay far from, I can think of little better cover." Always the pragmatist, as well... she takes another sip of wine, then looks to Karlach.

"...look. Karlach. This... malaise, that I feel now. This worry for my future. I promise you, I will not mire myself in it. I will burn it for fuel, and we shall arrive at Moonrise Tower, or Baldur's Gate, or wherever we must go to be rid of these parasites."

Rakatak sets down the cup again and rests her knuckles against the table, looking down at the map. "And this is how we shall find the path. So - you wanted to be involved in my plotting? I present you two choices, both with advantages and drawbacks."

Her finger traces along the Risen Road, towards the Rosymorn Monastery and, eventually, the encompassing black splotch on the map. "Overland to the shadowed place. Dangerous, either because of brigands or whatever the curse sees fit to spit up at us. Direct, though, and a sure thing."

Then, her other hand taps on the Selunite temple they recently raided. "Or, apparently... a passage to the Underdark, in the same place we just were. The Underdark holds its own treachery, of course, and I can't imagine that the path would be any straighter than the surface can offer us... but it would reduce our exposure to the shadow and we might find things of use in the depths. What say you?"

Empathy was not anything anyone had ever expected from the Fury of Avernus, a monster rumoured to be so brutal that none who crossed her path ever really stood a chance. Like most thrust into the thick of that fucking war, she had done everything she'd needed to to survive. That was what had truly carried her through it. Well, after the first year, when she'd finally gathered enough coin to partake in a feast at the Infernal Rapture. Aided, of course, on the so-called "generosity" of the Archdevil herself, who had taken great joy in just how vicious her hell-hearted champion represented her.

There had been whispers, of course, of those who were trying to find loopholes in their contracts. Anything to get them home. It had occurred to her as she had been part of the way through a mystery meat stew that she was bound by neither devotion nor contract. Outside of the engine itself, she was not held here in the same way others were.

And she'd made it. Made it here to taste the sweetness of heroism and to offer a tender, non-judgemental ear to whoever needed it. Karlach had not, in a thousand years, expected for that ear to be offered to Rakatak of all people. A warrior stern and stalwart. She couldn't have hid that turmoil if she'd tried.

"Wyll's a good man," Karlach said with a smile. "Far finer than I am, anyway. I don't think he could've done it in good conscience once he'd actually met me and realised I was very, very non-devilly."

And accepted the repercussions with a grin and bear it sort of attitude that was very, very Wyll. Karlach knew she wouldn't have done the same in his shoes.

She quickly turned her attention to the hobgoblin, and she watched her as she listened. It was an odd thing to see her so ... cut up. Quickly, she watched how she compartmentalised as she unloaded, as though sifting through all of those feelings was helping a little. So she did what she did best. She listened.

"Look, the way I see it," she said, and swirled her cup of mystery wine as though it would help her sift through her words. "We don't know what lays ahead of us. What misery, death, decay... All of that bullshit. One night to just take a deep breath before we get back to business isn't going to hurt us. Trust me, I'm pretty good at risk assessment."

The tiefling offered her the unsipped goblet of wine, and wiggled it at her.

"At the very least, one cup of wine isn't going to hinder your plotting and planning. C'mon, I'll even sit with you while you plot."

[sirdolraan]

Family

(Daily writing challenge August 2022, Day 7, Peace/Unforgiven. CW: gambling)

@daily-writing-challenge

It had gotten harder for these gatherings to occur as the years had gone on, and each player had taken on additional responsibilities, but the stars had aligned once again, this time above a sleepy roadside inn set up on the road north from the Thandol span into greater Arathi.

"I've got t' say, this is a lovely little inn yeh found, Vasily" Drogar declared, passing his judgment as he took his seat at the felted table.

"It is certainly having its charms! Mistress Greysteel just built it last year to be providing rest and safety to the traffic brought on by the peace treaty. There are many merchants taking the overland routes into the hills nowadays." Vasily replied, setting out the colored chips and unboxing the deck of playing cards.

"Booze is good too!" Hlin hollered as she shouldered her way into the room, hands filled with pint glasses, spilling beer head to and fro. "Ah put down a nice beer deposit so go ahead and drink away boys! It'll make mah job easier!"

"Um, I'll pass on that, but thank you?" Janosis took his seat, picking up the cards and beginning to shuffle, the cards flying between his fingers. "Where's Dolraan, I thought he was joining us?"

Drogar took one of the pints from Hlin and took a generous drink before answering. "He should be along before long, apparently 'e's taken it upon 'imself t' invite a new player."

"Oho, a new friend to play with? Wonderful!" Vasily exulted, grasping Janosis and Drogar on either side of him and pulling them in close in a hug.

"Wonderful indeed, good evening everyone." Dolraan's voice rang out, pushing the door open and entering, pulling down his travelers cloak and welcoming in his companion. "Allow me to introduce Ghorren, he's been working with us for a while and happened to mention a love of card games, and I know we've been looking for a sixth."

"Uh, hello, everyone." Ghorren said, raising a slightly uncomfortable hand as he ducked under the door frame. While the inn had a sign that proclaimed all were welcome, the construction hadn't quite lived up to that. "I be Ghorren, of the Goldpact."

Hlin brightened up. "Ah heard of y'all! Yer Simah's boss, ain't ya?"

Ghorren nodded as Vasily rose to greet him. "Hello my new friend Ghorren! I am Vasily, these are our friends Drogar, Hlin, Janosis, and you are knowing Dolraan of course! It is nice to have a friend whom I can easily be seeing eye to eye with, yes?" the draenei joked, nudging Ghorren's ribs with an elbow as he was guided to a seat.

"Uh, yes, thank you, er, Vasily. Sorry, this is something new for me, playing with, well, Alliance."

Hlin smirked. "Don't worry, once ah've gotten all yer gold y'all will have something in common to talk about."

Drogar set aside his goggles. "Not this time, Stoutarm, I'm wise t' yer tricks, and I'm not lettin' yeh get th' better of meh this time."

Janosis started to deal the cards. "As long as you don't forget to pay attention to Vasily; he HAS won the last three nights we played."

Vasily beamed. "I am just happy to be spending time with beloved friends, old and new!" Vasily patted Ghorren on the shoulder as he slid a pint glass in front of him with a smile, before attending to his cards.

Ghorren adjusted himself in his seat. "Let's see how this goes then. I won't dishonor the Goldpact by going down without a fight. My girls would never forgive me."

"Then let the games begin. Place your blinds everyone, let's play some cards." Dolraan declared, pushing his chips forward as another great game began.

[thejooncrew]

shirts and staircases

college roommate jungkook x reader (word count: 1.2k, now with proofreading)

based on this post

this one’s for you, @ladyartemesia​​

also, I’m probably gonna write another part involving smut I just wanted to pump this out while I still had the motivation much like jungkook will soon be pumping in and out of reader amiright

☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰

The house is quiet, which is rare when you live with 7 loud, boisterous, and occasionally nocturnal college boys. They must have left for that free breakfast down at Overland Hall, you muse as you groggily roll over in bed to check the time. Eight o’ clock—a time only a promised free breakfast could lure your boys out of bed and into the great wide world.

You’ll join them soon, of course, but you so rarely have the house to yourself that you have to seize any chance you get. Still a bit sleep-addled, you amble out of your room and across the hall to Jungkook’s room to creep.

Well, you don’t consider it creeping, because it’s not like you’re rifling through his drawers or reading his diary. And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? He doesn’t need to know that his best friend sneaks into his room whenever she can possibly get away with it to steal clothes that smell like Downy and cotton and boyish good looks. Today, you’re hoping to snag one of those big oversized gray t-shirts that make him look oh-so cuddly during gaming nights.

You don’t bother with putting on pants or creeping around as you usually would—in hindsight, a bad idea. But in your sleep-addled state, you thought surely silence meant an empty house. And an empty house means walking around in a t-shirt and panties.

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as you ease open Jungkook’s door and step inside. How many times have you fantasized about parading about in something lacy and borderline scandalous in front of him? Or perhaps plopping yourself in his lap during an intense session of Overwatch and demand his attention? Then maybe at last the dark look in his eye usually reserved for errant Sombra ults would at last be focused on you…

Focus! You make a beeline for his top dresser drawer. By sheer force of stubborn will, you’d sat Jungkook down one day and demanded he keep his room in some semblance of organization, and six months later, he was doing quite well. He’d long ditched folding, but at least he was keeping to his organizational system—and successfully avoided another “The Chair” situation. All the easier for you to whip the drawer open and rifle through your options.

“Aha!” you said aloud, triumphantly holding aloft your prize and promptly pressing it to your face. You breathed in deeply, letting out a soft moan as the distinct smell of Jungkook filled your nose. How many times had you basked in these scents as Jungkook held you in the throes of some exam-induced nervous breakdown, or as he was distracted by a movie you were all watching together in the living room? Jungkook may have smelled the same to everyone else, but to you, he smelled like comfort. Jungkook was soft musk and post-workout sweat. Jungkook was sweet toothy smiles with the little mole right under his lip. Jungkook was the muscles in his arm bulging as he carried your books home for you from lecture, and his new, devastatingly long hair he would casually flip out of his eyes to make girls walking by swoon. And you, of course, but he didn’t know that.

A deep sense of bitter longing and pent-up feelings filled your chest as tears welled in your eyes. No, this wouldn’t do. You couldn’t show up to the breakfast with red eyes, Jungkook would ask you what was wrong and you wouldn’t be able to tell him. Breathing heavily, you curled up on his unmade bed, closing your eyes and letting yourself imagine. For one sweet, bated breath, he was here next to you, his touch ghosting over your hips and your shoulders, his breath just tickling the nape of your neck. He was where you had always wished for him to be—curled up with you, just another couple hopelessly in love.

You didn’t quite know how long you spend just lying there, but it couldn’t have been long—it wasn’t until you pulled the shirt away from your face and took another breath that you realized you had been holding it. Bottle it up again, you know better, you chided yourself, reluctantly rolling out of bed for the second time this morning. You slipped Jungkook’s shirt over your head and headed downstairs to get a glass of water. Something to wake you up before heading for breakfast.

You have to pull yourself together, you tell yourself. You have at least two more years of this nonsense to get through, and if you keep going the way you are now, you’ll slip up eventually. You’ve long reconciled that you and Jungkook likely won’t ever end up together—he’s never shown interest, and you’re too worried about losing your friendship to dare hope for anything more. No, it has to stay this way: you, a pining, shirt-thieving coward, and Jungkook, standing in the doorway right by the stairs, gripping the doorframe and watching you come down the stairs in your panties with wide eyes.

Wait, what?

“Jungkook?!” you screech, hastily pulling down your—his—shirt to cover yourself. “What are you doing?”

“S-sorry!” he stammers, blushing and turning away. “I didn’t—well—what are you doing waltzing around without pants on?”

“I thought you guys had already left for the free breakfast!” you hissed.

“Well, most of us…Namjoon left his phone here again, so I came with him to get—” Jungkook squints at you. “Is that my shirt?”

“No!” you say instinctively. “Well—I mean—”

“It is,” he says incredulously, moving to get a closer look. “You’re the one stealing my shirts? I thought it was Tae!”

An odd look comes over his face right then. “Y/N, why are you stealing my shirts?”

“W-well…I…uh…” Laundry excuse won’t work, he helped you lug a fresh load of it upstairs just last night. “They…they, uh…”

“Come on, spit it out,” he urges. He’s so close to you now, cornering you against the wall.

“They…they smell like you…” You confess in a whisper.

“Oh? What’s this then? You like being covered in my scent?” You gulp as his voice suddenly takes on a husky tone, and you feel a jolt go down your spine and straight to your pussy as you look up into his eyes. You only ever see this Jungkook when he’s flirting with random girls at bars—the intenseness of his gaze, his hair falling forward to frame him in a way that is so knee-weakeningly sexy.

“I-it’s not like that…” you protest weakly. “I just…I think…”

“I know exactly what you think, sweetheart.” Oh, you’re in danger alright. Jungkook’s hand, those accursed tattooed digits of his, snake up your naked thigh and hover dangerously close to your ass. “I saw you in your room two weeks ago.”

You gasp and cover your mouth in horror. Two weeks ago, when you had thought Jungkook was occupied hanging out downstairs with the boys, and had taken it upon yourself to relieve some tension. You realize now that you can’t remember if you had closed your door properly…but you do remember moaning softly and calling out Jungkook’s name several times.

A triumphant shout comes from the dining room. “Kook, I found my phone! Let’s go!” Namjoon calls.

“You go on ahead,” Jungkook responds, his gaze never once leaving yours as his hand grabs your ass and squeezes it, drawing a muffled moan from you. “I think I’m going to start with a different kind of breakfast.”

[ikeromantic]

Premonition

An Ikemen Vampire fanfic featuring Leonardo and Nishtha. This is for @nishtharya from my 300 follower celebration. 

It turned out longer than I intended - but I really had fun writing it and I hope you will enjoy reading it. Approx. 4000 words, fluff and ADVENTURE!

It was another busy day in the mansion. Leonardo promised his help to their mutual friend, an aspiring architect, and he and Nishtha spent the day poring over his designs to provide him with corrections and suggestions. They were having a lively discussion about one in particular, a private residence.

“It’s too dramatic at the entry,” Leo was saying, pointing to the wide archway and the sweeping roof line. “The shape of these doors, the window placement, it’s someone’s home. I think something more homey -”

Nishtha shook her head, sweeping her dark hair back from her shoulder. “No, no - I mean if it was my home, sure. But this is meant for drama. Especially that first impression. Art, sophistication, history . . .” She pointed out the similar elements. “Look here - the entry hall past the archway is almost like the narthex of a church, and beyond it, the interior balcony with two sweeping staircases and a stained glass ceiling. You can’t lead into that with something homey. The support beams alone make that impossible.”

Leonardo sighed. “Suppose you’re right, cara. I guess I just don’t like it much. The other designs are better. There’s more warmth to them.” He kicked back and set his feet on the table, pulling a cigarillo from his pocket. 

“Well, you can tell him that when we bring these back to him.” She finished making her design notes in the margins and rolled up the thin paper drafts. 

Leo grunted in reply as he lit and began to smoke. The sweet scent of tobacco drifted through the room. 

Nishtha slid the drafts into a long, leather tube and stepped past Leonardo to grab her coat. 

Leo took advantage of her distraction to curl an arm around her waist and pull her into his lap. He nuzzled her neck, placing warm little kisses from her ear down to her collar bone. “Why such a rush, cara? Let’s take a moment and reward ourselves for all that hard work.”

“But - the, the - waiting - ah,” it was impossible to think clearly when he was like this. His lips felt so good on her skin, and his breath tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. 

“Mmm, and he can wait a little longer I think.” Leo grinned wickedly. 

Nishtha decided this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. She melted into his embrace, turning her head to kiss him. Losing had never been so sweet. When he finally set her down, she rebuttoned her blouse and straightened her skirt.

Leonardo, damn him, looked perfectly unruffled. He stood and put on his coat. “Hurry up, cara. We’re going to be late.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said wryly and scooped up the leather drafts case to follow him out the door. 

The carriage dropped them off in a nice neighborhood, nothing too fancy but perfectly suited to the clerks and merchants that hurried along the sidewalks. They rang the architect, a young man named Emile. He was staying in Paris briefly before resuming his travels to study architecture. He knew Leonardo through his father, and the two of them had become friends.

Emile let them in. “It’s so good to see you both!” He shook Leonardo’s hand and went to give Nishtha a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he wound up catching her hand as she gave him a light punch to the belly - her favorite way to greet good friends. He’d barely touched her when she jerked back in surprise.

For the briefest moment, when Emile’s lips brushed her cheek, she saw a rain-drenched cobblestone road and a spinning carriage wheel suspended in the air. The momentary flash had an ominous feel and left her unsettled. She tried to smile. “Sorry. For a moment - I thought, I mean - I saw a bug. On the wall.” 

Leonardo gave her a narrow-eyed glance but went along with it. “I saw it too, but it’s gone now.”

“I’m not surprised,” Emile chuckled. “This place isn’t exactly fine living. Hopefully the little fellow found his way outside and won’t turn up in my sock drawer.”

Still feeling anxious, Nishtha followed Emile and Leonardo upstairs. She began to feel a little better once they were seated and she had a hot cup of tea in hand. Maybe, she thought, I’m just overreacting. She’d gotten flashes of intuition before this - little warning feelings or gut instincts that something was wrong or to be careful. But nothing like a vision or a dream. 

And if she was honest, there hadn’t been anything really terrible in that momentary flash anyway. It rained often and carriages did sometimes overturn. 

“Nishtha? Are you alright?” Leonardo peered at her with concern in his warm amber eyes. 

“Oh, I was just thinking. Did I miss something?”

Emile smiled. “I was just asking what you thought of the palatial design in my drafts. Leonardo thought it looked better in the sketches here,” he pointed at his sketch book, “than in the actual draft. Too much space he says.” The architect made a little moue of disappointment.

Nishtha smiled. “I actually liked it. I was thinking though . . .” 

The three of them bent over Emile’s sketches and drafts, bouncing ideas off each other. She almost forgot her premonition until the architect took her hand in thanks as they stood to leave. The moment his hand enclosed hers, she was there. In the rainy street. Water streamed down the surface of an overturned coach and there, on the ground half beneath it, she saw Emile. His face was pale, turned up toward the rain. One arm sat at a crooked angle. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. 

Nishtha reached for him . . . and fell out of her seat. 

Leonardo caught her in his arms and pulled her tight against him. His steady heartbeat and his solidity brought the moment back into focus. She was in Emile’s atelier. He was fine. He was sitting across from Leonardo with a worried expression wrinkling his brow.

“Cara, you look pale.” Leo studied her face, worry tensing the lines of his jaw and shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” she replied and tried to stand, but Leonardo was having none of that. “I really am ok.” She smiled at him, pushing the vision’s anxiety away. 

Emile watched her, looking almost as concerned as Leo. “I could call a doctor. It would only take a moment.”

“No. It really is ok. I just - for a second -” Nishtha debated whether or not to tell them about the vision. People didn’t really take these things seriously, she’d found. She really didn’t want to be laughed at. 

“For a second?” Leo prompted.

Nishtha turned her head to look over at Emile. “Do you travel by carriage frequently?” 

Emile nodded slowly. “Yes. That . . . seems an odd question, ma cherie. But yes, I do travel by carriage overland. Why?”

She kneaded the fabric of her skirt with clenched hands. “When you took my hand, I got a - a bad feeling about that.” She took a breath and lifted her chin. In for a penny, after all. “I think if you plan to go anywhere by carriage, at least in the near future, you should make other plans. Especially if it’s raining.”

The architect’s eyebrows rose as he puzzled over the unexpected advice. 

“I know it seems like an odd thing to say, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts when I get these little . . . feelings.” Nishtha didn’t want to admit to a vision. Hopefully this was good enough.

Leonardo stroked her shoulders gently. “And this feeling is what surprised you? Here and in the hall?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Then Emile will promise to be very careful and to avoid carriages. Right, mon ami?”

Emile agreed, though he seemed reluctant. “I will do what I can. To ease your mind, hm?” And he avoided touching her again as she and Leonardo left. 

Leo didn’t say a word about it on the long walk back. Instead, they talked about what Sebastian was making for supper and their plans to visit the coast when the weather warmed. They made it to the gate as the first, fat, warm rain drops began to fall from the cloudy late afternoon sky. 

Nishtha looked back toward the city and hoped Emile took her warning seriously.

Theo and Arthur were on their way out as she and Leo went in. 

Arthur took one look at her serious expression and tried to hurry past nervously - he’d been the recipient of her sharp tongue more than once when he pushed his flirting too far. But Theo stopped. “Something happen, hondje?”

Leo waited for Nishtha to speak, knowing without being told that this was her story to share - or not. 

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Emile,” she told him after a moment.

“Anything I should look out for?” His blue eyes focused on her intently. 

Nishtha shook her head. “I don’t think so. But, be careful out there tonight.”

“We will be the soul of caution,” Arthur quipped, tugging Theo out the door with him. “Toodaloo, luv.”

Leo slid an arm around her shoulders. “You know what I think we need?”

Nishtha looked up at him. His eyes were liquid gold, warm and sweet as caramel. 

“A hot bath. Come on.” He scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey! Set me down,” she half-heartedly flailed. She wasn’t against the idea of a bath, but these things needed to be scheduled, or one of the other mansion residents would just walk in and - and -

“Nobody is going to walk in on us. Trust me.”

Nishtha poked his chest. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. His slow, wide smile and mischievous eyes said everything his words didn’t. He carried Nishtha to the baths and left her there with an order to undress and get in. Then he disappeared back up the stairs to “Make arrangements.”

Nishtha wasn’t averse to a hot soak, and by the time Leonardo stepped into the baths in his towel, she was up to her neck in the warm water. 

“I missed the best part,” Leonardo laughed softly as he slid into the bath beside her. 

“I didn’t.” She smiled at him. He was a gorgeous man, and seeing him in just a towel . . . 

Leo stroked a finger along the edge of her jaw. “I think that blush is something besides the heat. What are you thinking about cara?”

Nishtha couldn’t help the way her pulse sped up at his touch, or the little flip her tummy did when she saw him like this. Five years or fifty, it wouldn’t matter. 

The look in her eyes was all the response Leonardo needed. He pulled her into a kiss, his lips capturing hers, slow and sensual. His strong hands stroked her back, easing the day’s tensions better than the steamy water ever could. Passion built between them as the kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues tasting each other.

Breathless, Leo finally broke the kiss. His eyes were as hot as the thermae, filled with need. “Hadn’t planned on taking it that far,” he panted. “You do such things to my heart, cara.”

Nishtha was fairly sure she would be happy to do ‘such things’ to his body too, but he placed those large, sculptor’s hands on her shoulders and turned her around before she could get started. “What -”

“Just relax.”

That was an easy enough command to follow. Her back rested against his wide, muscled chest. There was something infinitely comforting about his embrace. Maybe his smell - that indefinable mix of sweet tobacco and Leonardo’s own musk. Or perhaps, just his comforting strength and steadiness. It just felt good to be held close. 

Leo began to gently unpin her hair, taking it down from the bun she’d had it in all day. His long fingers combed the snarls from her hair. Light touches on her scalp, the back of her neck, and across her shoulders sent little shivers down Nishtha’s spine. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as he kissed the spot just behind her ear.

It was as if time stopped, and the only Leonardo, Nishtha, and the warmth between them still existed. Her body thrummed with awareness of him. The way his chest moved against her back. The feel of his hips behind her. The brush of his legs against hers. And his hands. Oh gods. Everything fell away against that bliss. He coaxed pleasure from every nerve-ending, making the simplest touch sensual.

The sound of an awkward cough pulled them unceremoniously from their private world.

“Sebas?” Leo’s voice was thick and hoarse. He swallowed. “I was pretty sure I asked you to help me keep this private.” In one graceful motion, he moved to put Nishtha behind him.

She peered at Sebastian over Leonardo’s shoulder. Part of her was resentful of the interruption. But she knew he wouldn’t have come if there wasn’t something important.

“I am deeply sorry to bother you.” Sebastian looked mortified and kept his gaze on the wall rather than on the bathers. “But there is a panicked messenger at the door. From Monsieur Charles Andre?” 

This brought Nishtha completely out of her relaxed state. “Emile’s father?”

Sebas nodded. “He was expecting a visit from his son this evening, but Emile never arrived. Monsieur Andre sent a servant out to fetch him, but apparently Emile is not home either. He came here to see if perhaps you knew where Emile might be.”

Leonardo went very still. Nishtha could feel the tension in his body, like a coiled spring. “We will be right there.”

Sebastian gave a slight bow and hurried out.

Nishtha felt a cold certainty that she knew exactly where Emile was. She didn’t want it to be true, but wishing didn’t change what was. 

The lovers quickly exited the baths and dressed again. 

“Cara . . .” Leonardo set a gentle hand on his compagna’s shoulder. “Take a breath. We will do what we can, yes?”

“Yes.” Nishtha nodded as Leo swept her into a hug. Then they went to meet the servant.

It was just as Sebastian had told them. Emile was late to meet his father and he wasn’t home - the servant also checked the usual roads between the father and son, but there was no sign of Emile. 

“I had hoped,” the servant finished, “that I would find the young master here. But it seems you haven’t seen him either.”

“I might know where he is,” Nishtha offered. She didn’t have an address, but more like a feeling of him in a certain direction. A bit like playing hot and cold. 

The servant gave a troubled smile. “Any idea is better than what I’ve got now.” 

Leonardo instructed the man to go with Sebas and prepare the carriage. Then he sat down beside Nishtha. “Are you sure about this, cara mia? It isn’t exactly safe for us to be out on a night like this . . .” His eyes were troubled.

“I’m as sure as I can be.” She put her hand atop Leonardo’s. “I can’t stay here while Emile is lost. He could be hurt.” She knew he was, but didn’t want to say so.

After a moment spent searching her face, Leo nodded. “Alright. We will be very careful as we look for him.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Very careful. If something were to happen-” he cut himself off, unwilling to speak ill thoughts. 

Nishtha leaned over and kissed his cheek. Sometimes even the immortal genius needed to be reassured. 

They left out together, into the pouring rain. Leonardo held an umbrella over Nishtha’s head, but the rain fell so hard and so thick that water splashed up, wetting her from the ground. It would have been funny, if not for the palpable sense of worry between the three of them.

“Where are we headed, mademoiselle?” The servant looked so hopeful.

“That way,” Nishtha pointed without even thinking about it. 

“I was . . . rather hoping for an address? Maybe some shop or street you know he frequents?”

Nishtha tried to remember anything from her vision that might help tell them where to go, but there wasn’t anything. She shrugged. “Something is better than nothing, right? I just know he’s that way.” 

The servant told the carriage driver to move out, in the direction she’d pointed. He didn’t look all that happy about it. 

They were silent as the carriage wheels clattered over paving stones. Slipping across runnels of water, sliding in splots of thick mud. The whole contraption wavered and shook from gusts of wind, and the windows leaked a steady stream of cold tears down the insides of the doors. The only words exchanged were Nishtha’s directions as she felt them, and the servant relaying it to the driver. 

She felt they were close. Close enough that she asked for the carriage to slow even more so she could get a better feel for the direction. They were barely crawling along the empty roadway when there was a sudden lurch forward and a loud crack. Above them, the driver shouted. His voice was barely audible over the storm, but Nishtha thought he sounded angry.

Leonardo began to stand, his brow creased with concern, but the next jerking motion of the carriage put him back in his seat. 

Something under the carriage groaned. Nishtha felt it in her bones and at the back of her eyes. A low, grinding sound that grew louder with each passing heartbeat. She looked at Leo, opened her mouth to ask what it might be. Then it shattered with a deafening crack. The carriage careened left, twisting, then falling on its side. 

Mud and water oozed in from the cracked carriage door. The servant lay against it, eyes shut. Nishtha dangled above him, held up by one of Leonardo’s hands. He lowered her to her feet beside the servant. 

“You alright, cara?” In the dim light, it was impossible to see his face, but his voice sounded worried.

“I’m ok, I think.” She took a shuddering breath and leaned down to check the servant. He was alive, but didn’t wake or make a sound when she touched him. 

Leonardo sighed. “I knew it was a bad idea to come out here. I should have left you home at least - safe.”

“I’m not made of spun sugar. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to find Emile without me. We’re close to him now.” She tugged the servant up to a sitting position to keep his head out of the water.

“I’m going to check on the driver and horses,” Leo replied, ignoring her comment completely. “You stay here.”

He tugged open the door, sending a torrent of rain water into the carriage. It stopped when he closed it behind him. 

Nishtha leaned back against the bench, uncomfortable and anxious. “Guess it’s just you and me. Unconscious guy and overprotected girlfriend.” It was impossible to ignore the feeling that Emile was nearby, and more, that he needed them to find him soon. 

Though it was dark outside, and the storm was terrible, Nishtha decided she had to finish what she came for. With some effort, she climbed up and pushed the door open. Leonardo made it look easy when he stepped out, but the wind and rain pushed against it so hard, she almost got stuck. When finally did open, the world outside was nothing but sheeting water and shadows. 

“Leo? Hey! Leonardo!” Nishtha shouted. She walked carefully along the edge of the carriage, following it up to the driver’s bench. It was empty, and so were the traces. No horse, no driver . . . and no Leonardo. 

She knew Leo would tell her to get back in the carriage and wait. That was the safest thing to do. Maybe even the wisest thing . . . but sometimes, a girl has to follow her instinct. She tore a piece of lace trim off her dress and walked back to tie it on the carriage door in a perfect bow. That way when Leo came back, he’d know she left on purpose - and on her own. Then she set off into the storm, toward Emile. 

Despite the violence of the storm, there was something beautiful about it. The howl of the wind over Parisian rooftops. The shine of wet paving stones in the flashes of lightning. The way water cascaded down lamp poles and created new rivers and streams from the roadways. It was a little harder to appreciate when you were soaked to the bone and half-blind, but still - it was there.

Nishtha tried to focus on that as every step took her further from Leonardo and the safety of the carriage. This wasn’t scary - and she was doing the right thing. A sudden gust of wind knocked her forward and she stumbled, stumbled and fell against something solid. Wooden. 

She reached up to steady herself. Her hand found a wheel, turning slowly from the wind. Nishtha felt around her, realizing this was an overturned carriage. On its side, the horses and driver gone . . . had she turned in a circle? Her mind said yes, but that inner sense told her no. Trusting herself, she moved along the edge of the carriage slowly.

Her foot pushed up against something soft and soaking wet. It groaned.

Nishtha knelt, seeing more with touch than with her eyes. It was a person, a man, and his leg was trapped under the side of the carriage. “Emile? Is that you?”

“Wha - oh hells - p-please-” His voice was faint, but unmistakably the architect and artist she was searching for.

“Just - just wait here, ok? I came to help you.” Nishtha patted his hand and then stood up straight. She’d said she would help him, but how? “Leonardo? Leo! Hello! Anyone!”

No one answered. No one would be out in this weather on purpose - and even if they were, her words were lost in the storm.

It was Nishtha or nothing, she thought. “Emile, I’m going to try to move the carriage. Pull your leg out when I do,” she shouted to him.

“Leg - y-yes,” he groaned, shifting on the wet cobblestones.

Nishtha went to the edge of the carriage and tried to brace herself. She pushed, but it didn’t budge. Not a hair. She tried again, pushing until she saw little spots of light and color dance in her eyes - and this time, it did move a little. Not enough by far.

It felt absolutely unfair to have found Emile only to be helpless to rescue him, she thought. What would Leonardo do? Well, he would probably just lift the carriage because vampire. So . . . she paced around the carriage, ignoring the rain as she thought it out. 

Leverage.

The thought struck like one of those lightning bolts. It didn’t take long to find a chunk of detritus to use as the fulcrum. It took a little longer to find a good stick though. One narrow enough to wedge under the carriage side but thick enough to *probably* handle the load. 

Nishtha struggled it into place and then went to check Emile. 

His breathing was shallow. His eyes were shut. 

“Emile?” She poked his chest. “Emile! Wake up! I’m going to lift the carriage. You need to pull your leg out!”

Nothing.

She slapped his cheek lightly. “Emile!”

Nothing.

She slapped harder, hard enough that it stung her cold-numbed hand.

“Ah! Ow! I - I was - oh hells . . .”

“Emile, you need to pull your leg when the carriage lifts. Can you do that?”

The architect nodded. 

“Good. Stay awake. Pull your leg out when you can.” She gave him a good shake and then went back to her lever. If this didn’t work, she wasn’t sure what else to try. Maybe wait for the water to rise high enough to float the carriage away. Nishtha almost laughed. 

It was do or die time. She grabbed the end of the stick and put all her strength into tugging it to the ground. At first, it seemed like she wasn’t going to be able to get it to move. Nothing shifted and the lever creaked as she pulled. Then, slowly, it began to lower. And on the other side, the edge of the carriage rose. 

Nishtha wanted to laugh but she didn’t have the breath to. She just kept pulling, then pushing, for all she was worth. “E-Emile! Pull! Your! Leg!” She didn’t think he could hear her over the storm. “Emile!”

She held as long as she could, until her muscles shook. Until her arms stopped aching and began to feel like hot-drawn glass. Then she let go and leapt back. The lever jerked up and the carriage fell down with a crash.

“Emile?” She ran to check on him and found him partially sitting up. He’d pulled his leg free - just like she told him to.

“Y-you were right. About. Carriages. Tried to walk and - and it got me . . . anyhow.” Emile panted. 

“Don’t worry about that now. Can you stand? We need to get you out of the rain.” His skin was like ice, and his eyes were too round. He was shivering, in shock and half-drowned. 

Emile tried to stand on his good leg, but couldn’t even get to his knees. Nishtha tried to help him, but she was spent. Her body rebelled against the notion of supporting even half the weight of a full-grown man. 

She turned, casting about for some solution. Some idea. There had to be a way . . . 

“Cara.” A single word from the tempest, and then she was pulled tight in an embrace. Leonardo’s chest was as wet and cold as everything else tonight, but he felt so good. For just a breath, she clung to him in relief. 

“I found Emile. He’s over there-” she gestured toward the carriage. She couldn’t see it even from just these few steps away. 

Leo laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her head. “You are so stubborn. But that is part of what I love about you. Come on. Let’s go get Emile.”

The found the architect just as she’d left him, barely holding himself up out of the rainwater. Leonardo lifted him up and together they walked two blocks over to an inn. This was where Leo had taken the driver and the servant. Both men were in beds upstairs, waiting on a doctor. And now Emile joined them. 

Nishtha sat down at the bar and sipped at a brandy. It warmed her from the inside out and she finally stopped shivering. She was the only patron in the tavern area. Even the bartender was upstairs, seeing to the injured men.

Leonardo came up behind her and settled a thick quilt over her shoulders. “You are something else, cara. I still can’t figure out how you knew where to find Emile - or how you managed to move that carriage.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“The carriage was easy - I just used a lever.” She pouted. “I told you how I knew about Emile.” No one ever believed her. She had hoped Leo might, but . . . 

He spun her stool around to face him. “My clever beauty.” He patted her head, smoothing the tangles of her wet hair back. “I understood what you said. Just not how it works. I have so many questions.”

“So . . . you believe me?” 

Leonardo nodded, his expression turning serious. “I never doubted you. I already trusted you with my heart. After that, this is a small thing.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap. 

He felt so warm. Better than the brandy. And he’d believed her! The whole time. Nishtha snuggled against his chest. 

“This reminds me of the work Comte and I did in metaphysical alchemy. I think it was 1673? No . . . maybe ‘74?” He stroked her back lightly as he talked. 

The two of them fell into conversation as easily as apples from trees. If anyone had been in the tavern to hear them, it would have sounded like madhouse-chatter. Alchemy, philosophy, and religion from across centuries blending as if it belonged that way. And it did, just as Leonardo and Nishtha fit together. 

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 33

“Fumi?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a story.”

“A story?” he says, glancing over. In the vent there’s nothing but the soft squelching of our cleated feet and a drip-drip-drip of a flowing river of sluggish, phlegmy mucus running along a divot over on the left. I nod.

“Yeah, a story. Like, about work. Ranger stuff. I’m sure you’ve got some good stories.”

He laughs. “A few, maybe,” he concedes.

Getting across into the actual flesh of the Pit from the wreck of the LVC had been easier than either of us had thought it would be. The gantry we had been looking for was long gone by the time that we got to the bottom of the LVC, with the only evidence of its passing being a couple of rigid metal rods and torn, rusted grating, but above us was our lucky break – due to the way the Visitor Center had fallen, it had actually cut into the Pit’s gullet on the way down, leaving a long, jagged scar of porous tissue in its wake and, at the very bottom, a gaping, partially-healed hole leading directly into what Fumi said was once the trail downwards to the Gastric Sea. It was a little hairy to begin with; the wound had ruined the previously neat trail, and the Pit had begun to reclaim it. Paths branched off, seemingly at random, that our maps had no record of. Here and there we’d see skittering things darting away from our flashlights, fleeing into pores or deeper, smaller vents we couldn’t see into.

Just copepods, Fumi had said when I asked. Harmless unless you’re alone and they’re feeling particularly brave or hungry. But even so I noticed that he kept his hand resting comfortably on the butt of his pistol, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice, and so I emulated him, and kept a wary eye behind us as we picked our way through the nest of tunnels and warrens and veins.

After I while I became afraid that we might hit a dead end and that we’d not be able to get through to the trail proper, which Fumi said would curve up and around down to the ballast bulbs, but just when I was getting to the point where I thought I might say something about it the vent widened out and Fumi had let out a triumphant whoop. We’re on the right track now, he had assured me, pointing to where we were on the map, and I had let a little involuntary shudder of relief pass over me because finally, finally we could really get going.

Now we’re clambering through a stinking vent that once housed a pedestrian trail. The thing Fumi hadn’t really mentioned is how long it would take. The path that looked so easy and short was in actuality four or five miles, a solid two or three hour hike in an environment like the Pit. My leg is holding up alright so far, especially now that I’m doing less running and jumping and falling, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do more than a couple days’ worth of this. Even with the boot I put my foot down occasionally and get a worrying, bone-deep twinge like a jolt of electricity, feeling like it’s running up some magic conduit from my heel all the way to the top of my head.

You can still see the remains of the trail here and there. Plastic placards, partially dissolved and stained beyond legibility, peeking out from behind masses of tumorous flesh. Rusty chain-link here and there, little strips of it grown over by pale, moisture-slick skin. If you look too closely at anything down here you shudder.

“Alright, I’ve got a story for you,” Fumi says. “Most of the work we do involves escorting supplies down to the deeper installations within the Pit, looking after science teams, making sure nothing and nobody bothers the few little extractions operations for stuff like ballast and bone plates. It’s a lot of wildlife control, basically. Very, very occasionally we’d do interdiction stuff. People get in, try to hide out in here, do all kinds of crap. I remember hearing a story about some guys who were running a drug lab in a trailer out on the very edge of the restricted area on the surface. Only got busted because Makado had to rush out somewhere in a hurry for something or other, I don’t remember what exactly, and she took a helicopter and they happened to fly right over. That really made her crack down on the topside ranger teams, let me tell you.”

“Topside?”

“So basically there are two teams,” he explains. “Us, the Sergeant’s team, we’re Venterial Ops. Anything underground, inside the Pit, we handle. That’s why we have Elena, for example. I don’t know if she told you but her main specialization is cave diving, she used to be in the Coast Guard. The other team is larger, they hang out in the other barracks topside. Overland Ops patrols the surface of the restricted area, handles anything that doesn’t concern the actual Pit itself. A lot of people don’t realize this but the restricted area isn’t just, you know, the Pit, it covers a whole lot of the ground above as well. You need manpower if you’re going to patrol it. With me so far?”

“Yes,” I nod. “So the overland team, they never go down into the Pit?”

“Oh, they train in it occasionally,” Fumi says, waving his hand. “But not to the extent that we do. It’s expensive and difficult and time-consuming just because the Pit is not a particularly good environment to make mistakes in. What if you can’t recognize a digestive pit or a triocanth sign? I mean, there are so many ways to die down here if you’re careless, especially now that we’ve cut down on our impact down here so much. If you’re stuck down here your options are either getting to the Control Center, getting to one of the very few listening stations and outposts we still have down in the depths of the Pit, or trying to call for help. That’s it.”

“So it’s easier logistically to have two separate groups like that?”

“Yeah, exactly. It hurts the overhead a little but if everybody was Pit-trained they’d be spending even more on them, so…”

“Right,” I say. There’s a long stringy mass of fibrous tissue stretching from the roof to the pitted ground, and I duck around it, let Fumi pass behind. “So what was the story?”

“Oh, right. So we were escorting some science folks down to that listening station in Oyster’s Shame. Shift change, essentially, except they way they do it is two weeks on, two weeks off. They rotate like that, make sure nobody’s spending too much time down in the Pit, that kind of thing. There are health checks that they have to do. If you’re in Science, half the time you’re up in a lab over in the science building doing egghead things and the other half you’re down here in a lab doing egghead things,” he laughs.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” I suggest, and Fumi nods.

“Exactly. So we’re taking these guys down, pretty simple trip, one we’ve all done dozens of times. One of the science guys is new, and he is just absolutely gushing over everything he’s seeing down here. Some sort of environmental scientist type, real nerd. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a nerd but sometimes you just – certain people fulfill the stereotype more than other people, right? Anyway, Crookshank decides to play a prank on the guy. We’re taking a break for lunch and Crookshank pretends to lick a nerve ending in the wall. Now, first off, don’t ever do that, but Crookshank is – was – a maniac and you can’t keep him down. This egghead sees Crookshank do it (of course, he didn’t actually do it, just pretended to) and starts to freak out, but Crookshank is like ‘oh, it’s cool, it enhances the flavor in these MREs, you should try it.’ And of course Slate gets in on it, because Slate has – er, had – the mind of a middle-schooler and can’t resist clowning around, and together they gradually convince this nerd that it makes your standard run-of-the-mill MRE taste orgasmic.”

“Why shouldn’t you lick nerve endings?”

“Have you seen anything down here that you’d want to lick?”

I try unsuccessfully not to think of Elena and end up just shaking my head.

“But on top of that,” Fumi continues, “Pit nerve fibers can do weird things to the human nervous system. Not usually permanent or even really harmful things…just weird things. A big one was an ability to see into the ultraviolet spectrum. You might have heard about that; they made some big breakthroughs in optics in the 80s thanks to experiments with Pit nervous tissue. But there can be weirder stuff too – occasionally you’d see some spooky things going on in the Cord thanks to all the nerve tissue there. Intrusive thoughts, ‘occult’ stuff like objects levitating, seeing things out of the corner of your eye, ‘hauntings…’ in some places down here there are still little alarms that go off if they read too much nervous activity. So you can imagine that it might be a bad idea to lick one.”

“What happened to the guy?” I ask. The further we’ve gotten the more horribly rank the air has grown, to the point where we both have put on our helmets. The path we’re following opens out after a torturously twisting, intestine-like track and we find a series of bulbous, swollen sacs protruding from the floor and the walls, filled with a noxious, chunky liquid a lot like raw vomit. I can feel my gorge rising and I fix my eyes resolutely on my feet and end up just taking shallow breaths through my mouth for the long ten or so minutes it takes for Fumi to guide me through to the other side. We squeeze through a rough, suppurating sphincter and find a set of stairs, so rusty and dilapidated they might as well have come straight out of a Silent Hill game. Here and there long strands or trickles of flesh have melted or grown through the chain-link cage surrounding the stairs and pooled in rough, saggy, wrinkled puddles on the floor. It’s such an unspeakably bizarre image that we both stop and stare at them.

“I bet those feel…absolutely horrible to step on,” Fumi says.

“I’m not stepping on any of those,” I murmur.

“And with the cleats…” Fumi continues.

“Oh god,” I say, wrinkling my nose. A particularly swollen one seems to glisten at me. “Why does it do that? Why does it grow stuff like this?”

“Why does the Pit do anything?” Fumi shrugs, jerking his head forwards. “At least we’re on the right track. This is the staircase down to the ballast bulbs.”

“Is it even safe to walk on?”

“Do you see a different option?”

“Fair point,” I grunt. I take a ginger step forward and put my weight on the stairs, cringing inwardly. My foot nudges against one of the nodules of flesh. I can feel it pressing against me through the fabric of the suit. I grimace and take another step, and then another. “Come on,” I tell him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

We get a couple of flights down before I remember. “Oh, right – what happened to the guy?”

“Which guy?”

“You know,” I say. “The nerd who licked the nerve ending.”

“Oh, right. It made him see…something. Gave him the fright of his life, ended up pissing himself in his suit.”

“Oh,” I say. I had been expecting something funny but this just seems sad. Fumi reads it in my face, nods at me.

“Yeah,” he says. “Elena actually got really pissed off at Crookshank for that one. They’ve never liked each other very much but that little stunt kind of pushed her over the edge. They got in a shouting match right there and the Sergeant had to break it up.”

I can’t stop myself from smiling. “That’s my girl,” I murmur.

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Uh, well it turned out that she was sleeping with the nerd and that’s why she was so heated about it.”

I look at Fumi for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

I think about it and then shrug. “What?” I ask. “Am I supposed to get jealous?”

“I just find it so strange that you aren’t.”

“That’s in the past,” I tell him. “I don’t care what she did before we met, I care about how she treats me. I mean, she has to have treated me pretty well to get me to risk my life for her like this.”

“True,” Fumi admits. “Or maybe you just don’t value your life very much.”

Before I can think of a response that would be both truthful and a denial of the accuracy of that statement, Fumi takes a step forward. As he puts his weight down on the next step the staircase groans sonorously and we both freeze. I feel a little stab of fear piercing the bottom of my stomach and reach over quickly to grab the guardrail, for all the good it’ll do me. We stand there frozen for a minute, maybe two, waiting for the entire thing to collapse, and when it isn’t forthcoming I slowly, gradually unclench my insides and put my weight back on the step.

“Jesus,” I murmur.

“Yeah, these are probably a little unsafe.”

“You think?”

The next four flights go by quickly. The blobs of flesh haven’t spread this far down, or at least they haven’t yet. The meat beyond the retaining walls, buckled in places, is a strange, waxy tone that makes it look like it’s fake. If it didn’t shudder and writhe in time with whatever alien rhythms govern the Pit’s heartbeat I’d think it were a model.

Ahead of us, rising like vapor off a bog, I can smell the stench of ballast, combined with the familiar meaty Pit-smell pervading the air, along with something earthy and sour that lingers at the back of my throat. It makes my heart race and my gorge rise simultaneously. That accidental encounter with Crookshank in the ballast bulb…I had never been so scared or so turned on in my entire life. The memory of it leaves me vaguely nauseous.

“You doing okay?” Fumi asks, nudging me.

“I’m fine,” I murmur through gritted teeth. I do not want to throw up in this helmet. I take a deep breath and then let it out. I’m okay. It’s going to be fine. Elena is down here and the ballast totally healed her and everything is fine, just peachy-keen. We’re going to kiss and hold hands all the way out of here and then…

“Do you really think she’s down here?” Fumi asks.

“Where else would she be?” I say. “It’s either here or she’s dead somewhere and I’m still trying to be optimistic at least.”

Fumi says something else but I’m not paying attention. We’ve finally reached the landing, and past a pair of crooked, bent, rusted doors is something that must have once been a utility corridor for servicing the machinery used to keep the ballast pools running. The entire corridor is so thickly covered with dense, clustered mushrooms that I can scarcely see any surface that isn’t completely blotted out by coarse white fungous flesh.

“Shit,” Fumi murmurs.

The acrid, weird smell is stronger down here and I’ve finally recognize it – it’s the reek of those horrible, throat-coating spores from the nightmare of the fungal jungle deep down in the Pit’s rancid guts, where Marcus and Peter and Erica and – and Klaus had died.

Where I had killed Klaus.

Thinking about it makes me shiver. This past day – there hasn’t been time to think. Everything has been sweeping me along with the same force and velocity as a riptide. I haven’t had time to – to acknowledge it.

Unbidden, the image of him clapping his hand to his throat springs to my mind. The gun had felt like a dead weight in my hand. It hadn’t even felt like my hand, it had felt like I was controlling it at a distance, like I was playing a video game. I remember the way his eyes had widened in shock and how he had staggered back, the knife clattering out of his trembling hands. He had tried to swipe at me with it even then but the strength had left him.

I’ve already sealed my suit. I hadn’t wanted to waste the filters or the battery before by running the rebreather but these spores aren’t going to give us a choice. I don’t want to be hallucinating again.

At the end of the hallway is a door. It takes the two of us some serious effort to pry it open, levering at the rusted, mossy handle, but once we get it open we stumble into what must have once been one of the main baths. The fungus grows here too, in greater size and density. There are things living here; a dozen little things scurry and hop and slither away from us, darting away from the reach of our flashlight beams. Some of the mushrooms, the bigger blue-veined ones with the caps that look like they’re melting, visibly deflate as we rake our lights over them, puffing out clouds of hazy spores.

“I’m not sure that Elena’s here,” Fumi says softly, looking around. I feel my insides tighten even as he says it.

A massive hole has broken open in the tile over on the far end of the pool. I think I see something within it move. I reach over and tug at Fumi’s sleeve. “Fumi,” I hiss. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“Over there,” I point. “Inside that big fucking hole, I thought I saw –“

“Whatever you saw,” Fumi tells me, “it wasn’t Elena. If she even came down here, she’d have taken one look at it and then turned right around and left. You said that Erica took her helmet. Look at all these spores. Do you think that –“

“God damn!” something cries out of the murk and darkness down at the far end of the pool. The milk-white ballast seethes incontinently beneath the wan glare of our flashlights, and I can feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. “God damn!” it repeats.

“That’s Elena,” I say.

“Roan, no,” Fumi says. I shoot him a look like he’s gone mad.

“Listen to her,” I tell him. “That’s her voice! I’d know it anywhere.”

As if to punctuate my argument, the voice cries out again. “Oh god! Oh fuck!”

I charge forward, stomping into the ballast with reckless abandon. “Elena!” I call out. My heart is jumping in my chest and I have to consciously force myself not to grin madly. Elena is here! God, she’s here! I was right, she did come to the ballast bulbs, she did –

“God damn!”

“Roan, stop!” Fumi yells from behind me. I can hear him starting to stomp after me but I don’t have an iota of brainpower left to devote to the question of why he’d want to stop me. The ballast ripples around my legs, but it’s relatively shallow, at least this end of the pool. I hope I don’t have to swim in it to get to her.

“God damn!”

“Elena, I’m coming!”

“STOP! Roan, it’s a –“

My foot catches against something in the ballast and I lose my balance. I try to catch myself on my hands but the pool deepens just ahead of me and I end up pitching face-first into the murk. “Goddam,” I mumble. I don’t know what I tripped on, it feels like a log or something, but that doesn’t make a ton of sense to be down here. What is –

The log wriggles to life and wraps itself around my ankle. I have enough time to let out a small, terrified squeak before it whips me bodily off my feet and starts tugging me through the ballast towards the hole in the tile. I hear a splash from behind me as Fumi wades it, and I realize that I’m screaming.

Another rope or vine or tentacle joins the first, and this one fixes around the thigh of my other leg. I reach down, fighting against the thing’s pull, and get my hands on my pistol. I jerk it out of the holster so fast that I almost lose it, flick the safety off, and then fire off three rounds into the darkness lurking where the tentacles converge, but I don’t think I hit anything. Another tentacle seizes around my wrist and though I try to get loose, I end up dropping the gun.

Fumi calls out from behind me but I can’t pull myself together enough to answer him. Another tentacle has fixed around my midriff, another around my neck, and it squeezes so tightly that almost immediately I see stars bursting in my eyes and everything goes off-kilter like the world’s been tilted.

My flashlight skews across the face of the thing that’s tugging me in and for a moment I can’t comprehend it. It looks like a…a flower, all folds and delicate fleshy petals, but the colors are off. I can’t think, I’m not getting enough oxygen.

A mouth opens in the center of the flower, unfolding like a piece of origami. I see delicate, foot-long, razor-sharp teeth, almost translucent in the light.

The tentacles around my neck and leg loosen, and then drop me entirely. I smack into the surface of the ballast and rapidly sink under. I’m still too woozy to do much about it other than flail my arms helplessly. The air is hot and stuffy in this helmet and I can feel a tingle somewhere along the side of my ribcage, accompanied by a stinging wetness that makes me realize my suit has a hole and ballast is leaking in.

I can’t think, my brain feels like it’s been unplugged. I’m going to drown inside my suit down here and I can’t do anything about it –

The last tentacle loosens and slips away and then I feel hands tugging at my arms. Without thinking I cling to them, the slippery ballast making my grip clumsy. I batter against my rescuer, trying to get a grip on them. There’s a horrendous noise filling the air, making the ballast vibrate with the force of it. Amid the torrent of sound I can hear someone yelling at me, telling me to stop, and when I crack my eyes open I see Fumi tugging me closer to him and trying to swim us away at the same time. I get my arm around his waist and we both dip under.

“Fuck this,” he says when I come up next and then he cocks his arm back and punches me in the side of the head. I go limp immediately and for the next few minutes I am not quite unconscious but I am definitely woozy enough to let Fumi drag me bodily out of the pool and then pick me up and carry me out of that horrible room and back to the staircase we came in at.

I manage to hobble up two flights of stairs on my own before I stumble and Fumi has to let me lean on him to get up another two. Up here the air is clearer and I can finally pop my helmet and breathe in deep, grateful gulps of it without feeling the spores trickling in and lining my throat. I sit down heavily on a step that isn’t encrusted with bloody moss and lichen and give Fumi a bleak look.

“I’ve been so fucking stupid,” I mutter. Fumi tries to put his arm around me but I shrug it off. “Goddam it, I’ve been so stupid.”

“Roan –“

“Fuck!” I shout. It echoes up and down the rickety staircase, my own voice reflected back at me in a mocking tone. My neck and arms are still sore and if I close my eyes I can feel that horrible thing’s tentacles or vines tugging tight around my throat and choking the life out of me…

“Roan,” Fumi tries again. “You aren’t stupid.”

“Elena was never down here,” I say. I can hear the cheerlessness in my voice. “She’s probably dead someplace ten minutes from the Cord. I should never have –“

“Roan!” Fumi barks. I look at him, not bothering to wipe my eyes.

“What?”

“Roan, you have to stop trying to throw your life away,” he says. His eyes are dark and serious and suddenly I find I can’t meet his gaze. “No, look at me,” he says.

“I’m really not into this paternal bullshit,” I start, but Fumi takes my head in his hands and very gently turns it so I don’t have any choice but to stare into his eyes. I almost slap him. At the very least I snarl out the beginning of an imprecation, but Fumi just stares me down. “I don’t –“ I start, but he shakes his head.

“Your life isn’t over,” he tells me. “You still have plenty to live for.”

“But if Elena’s dead –“

“Fuck Elena! Even if Elena were dead you’d have something to live for. When we find her do you think your relationship with her is going to last very long if you’re just hanging your entire existence off of her?”

“I – “

“I don’t need you flaking out on me right now,” he tells me. “When Ellis died, I –“

“Ellis?”

“Oh, fuck it. Forget it,” he says, standing up. “Do whatever the hell you want, you want to be a clingy son of a bitch when we get to Elena, be my goddam guest –“

“No, Fumi, I’m sorry, I didn’t –“

“Forget it, I said,” he tells me. My cheeks are burning. I’ve gone and broken the camel’s back. Of course him and Ellis were close, but…it doesn’t matter.

“Fumi, I didn’t mean –“

“Elena’s alive,” he says, his voice harsh. “Or at least she was, recently. Because ballast sirens can only repeat sounds they’ve heard. She probably pried open a door, took one look at that place, said ‘god damn!’ and ‘oh fuck!’ and left, and the siren’s probably been parroting it back for the better part of a day since then, hoping something would be stupid enough to wander into reach…”

“How was I supposed to know?” I yell. “How was I fucking supposed to know? I’ve never heard of a fucking ballast siren! I don’t know what they do!”

“I was yelling after you telling you not to go!” Fumi shouts. “If you had just fucking listened to me you wouldn’t have –“

“Yeah, well you fucking punched me!”

“I punched you,” he hisses, taking a step towards me, “because you were fucking panicking. You were going to drag me down with you and if I let you, we both would have died back there. I had to make you go limp, so I punched you! Of course you probably would have been okay with the two of us dying, given your fucking martyrdom fetish –“

“I don’t have a martyrdom fetish!”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Fuck you!”

“You need to calm the fuck down,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “I can’t believe you talked me into this damn-fool errand. I had no idea you were such a –“

“Fucking leave, then,” I tell him. There’s a part of my brain screaming at me to stop, but I can’t stop. I’ve already let the words out. “If I’m so much of a fucking burden and too much of a loose cannon then fucking leave. Just go back up. I’ll find Elena myself.”

Fumi’s face falls. When he speaks his tone is gentler. “Look, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to –“

“Just go!” I yell, pointing up the stairs. “Just fuck off!”

“Roan, don’t do this.”

“Just leave!” I say. My voice is thick and raw and I realize that I’m crying. “I can do this myself! I don’t need you!”

“Roan, you –“

“Go!” I shriek, and then before I know it I’m clambering to my feet and pulling up my sleeves, clenching a fist and getting ready to swing at him. Everything’s taken on a red tinge, even redder than normal down here in the Pit, and the horrible throbbing thump of my heartbeat is ringing in my ears like an immense drum.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Fumi says, throwing up his hands, and then he turns and hurries up the stairs.

I stand there for a long, long while, breathing hard, letting all of my anger drain out of me. Eventually I feel empty enough to find a nice clear spot on the rusty steps, brush away the mushrooms and polypous clumps of pooled flesh and sit. I think about burying my head in my hands, but I don’t.

After a moment I take out my radio from its holster on my belt and look at it. Fumi had warned me not to even try anything with it, he’d said that it’d be easy for anyone listening in, such as the FBI or people in the Control Center, to triangulate my position and there’d be no guarantee Elena would even have a radio to respond with if I did try to call her.

But I don’t see another choice. My hand is shaking a little and I feel as though if I stand up I’d just fall right over again. If I don’t do something I’m going to have a panic attack.

I crack the radio up to its broadest range-band and hold down the broadcast button. I can’t think of what to say. Eventually I shake my head and then lick my lips and give it my best shot. “Elena?” I ask. My voice catches a little but I swallow hard and force it back down. “Elena, it’s Roan. If you’re – if you’re out there and you can hear this, l-let me know. Please.”

I let the button go and then wait, heart pounding. I try to keep myself from counting the seconds, but I can’t. Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty. I stop after a minute and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the hot tears from leaking from them. She’s not out there, she’s dead or trapped somewhere without a radio, I knew it was a long shot, I shouldn’t have even bothered. If I hadn’t bothered I could at least pretend that –

The radio clutched loosely in my hands crackles to life. I glare at it, half-expecting to hear Fumi chew me out for using the radio in the first place.

“Roan?” Elena says. “Oh, my god, Roan, baby, is that you? Oh god, is that you?”

Continue with Part 34

Back to Table of Contents

[luxaofhesperides]

ghosts amongst us all

@tucweek DAY FOUR: AU DAY

also on ao3

Gregor used to think the apartment complex was haunted. He’d see faded, barely there people walking through walls or disappearing mid-step. He was so sure these were ghosts, until he mentioned them and found that no one else saw what he saw.

His dad carefully explained that while ghosts could be real, there were plenty of explanations of why their home wasn’t haunted. He spoke of old buildings and how weather affects them, how certain vibrations in the air made people anxious for no reason, how there were always people walking around that caused strange sounds.

Gregor never told his dad that it didn’t explain why he’d watch these see-through people, all pale and colorless, disappear before his eyes. He would think about it, but he’d never say it.

And so Gregor grew up, surrounded by ghosts-that-were-not-ghosts.

He never mentioned them again.

-

By the time he was eleven, Gregor knew better than to tell people about the things he’d see. It’s not like it mattered anyways; his dad had been missing for two years, and these ghosts-that-were-not-ghosts never bothered him.

(He had, once, tried to get a ghost-that-was-not-a-ghost’s attention, but it didn’t seem to see him. Didn’t notice him at all really. He stopped trying after that day.)

But he couldn’t ignore how it wasn’t just people he’d see disappearing around the apartment complex; sometimes he’d see giant bats vanish into the ceiling, or giant rats turn a corner and leave no trace behind. And sometimes, he’d see the ghosts-that-were-not-ghosts talk to each other. He could never hear what was being said, but they’d speak, gesturing wildly, with looks of distress clear on their faces.

Gregor would watch them interact, feeling like he was watching an old, soundless movie, and wonder what could make them so upset.

Not that it really mattered, in the end.

They’d disappear, and Gregor would go back to waiting for his dad to reappear.

-

Gregor dreams of falling, often. It’s one of his most common recurring nightmares. Falling, endlessly, into the void. He knows there are others around him but it’s too dark to see and it’s not like he can hear their screams above his own.

The other dreams he has tend to be less traumatizing. Some nights he’d dream of a young man in a flooded orchard, trying to save others. Or he’d dream of a young girl sitting silently in a large room, alone and silent, never moving.

Those dreams were harder to remember. All blurry around the edges and fading away quickly once he woke up.

What remained of the dreams, though, was the feeling of a noose tightening around his neck, a feeling that something horrible was going to happen/happening/already happened, and he’d be unable to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

So it takes a moment to remember that he’s not dreaming when he falls down the vent right behind Boots.

-

He laughs when Boots outsmarts the girl by poking her in the eye, but it dies in his throat the moment he gets close enough to see her eyes.

He remembers: a stone room with a large, empty bed in it. It looks unused.

He remembers: a young girl sitting in the corner of that room, never moving, never speaking.

He remembers: someone reaching out to her, and how she doesn’t respond.

“I know you,” Gregor says, “How are you real?”

“I beg your pardon?” she says — Luxa says, because, somehow, he knows her name.

“You’re the girl in the room, the one with the large bed and you’d always be in the corner and you’d never move. You’re her.”

Luxa’s eyes harden. The haughty persona she took on drops immediately as she tenses and stares him down.

“How do you know that, Overlander?” she all but growls out.

Gregor holds Boots closer to himself. “I don’t know. You’re not supposed to be real. There’s no way you’re real.”

“Explain yourself!”

“Calm yourself Luxa,” comes a voice from behind her. An old man with close-cropped silver hair walks forwards until he is between her and Gregor. “I am Vikus, Overlander. Tell me, are you from… New York City?”

Gregor’s seen this man before, but this is the first time he’s heard his name.

“I am. Who are you?”

“I am Vikus,” he repeats, but Gregor shakes his head. Before he can say anything else, Luxa cuts in.

“This Overlander knows things he should not, Vikus. Surely it is unwise to bring him in.”

Vikus looks over Gregor consideringly. “What do you mean?”

Gregor, desperate for answers and desperate for this dream to end, says, “I’ve seen you both in dreams. And I’ve seen you,” he gestures at Vikus, “Walking through the walls of my apartment. I didn’t think you were real.”

“Perhaps,” Vikus says, “We should discuss this more in a private space.”

And that’s that. That’s how Gregor enters Regalia: surrounded by the impossible, with two people he’s dreamed about on either side of him and Boots.

-

“That is impossible!” Luxa shouts with so much vehemence that Gregor moves Boots back a little. “He is an Overlander! There is no way he can know so much!”

“Calm yourself, Luxa,” Vikus says, “I have my suspicions, but I need Gregor to tell me more before I can be sure.”

“Um,” Gregor says, looking at the two argue; this is the first time he’s heard the ghosts-who-are-apparently-Underlands speak to each other. He’s so used to watching them mouth silent words that actually hearing their voices is jarring.

“Please, speak,” Vikus encourages as Luxa glares daggers into him.

“I’ve always thought they were ghosts.”

“Ghosts?”

“Dead people. Their spirits left behind because they had unfinished business. I’d see people like you, Underlanders, walking around or talking to each other, and they’d just disappear suddenly. Or I’d have dreams of people. I dreamt of you, Luxa, when you were little. I thought they were just dreams, though.”

Luxa’s stare loses it’s animosity. What’s left behind is shock.

“How can such a thing…” she mutters.

Vikus, on the other hand, looks less shocked and more resigned. “You are like our founder, Bartholomew of Sandwich. He, too, had these visions.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come, Gregor, there is much to explain to you.”

And that’s how Gregor finds out that not only is he some sort of psychic or prophet like Sandwich, but he’s their Warrior as well.

The invisible noose around his neck tightens.

-

“Overlander,” Luxa says once dinner is finished. Gregor stops and turns to face her. The hallway isn’t dark, but the torchlight casts shadows in strange ways that make deciphering the expression on her face difficult.

“You can just call me Gregor,” he says, hoisting Boots into his other arm, “Since Boots is an Overlander too.”

Luxa is silent for a moment before she says, “Very well.”

Gregor waits for her to continue, feeling more antsy as the silence stretches on. He wants to leave Regalia as soon as possible, look for a way out, and Luxa is keeping him from doing that. He worries that she might know his plans, but there’s no way. He’s been too careful, and he’s gotten good at lying since his father disappeared.

“I want to ask you,” she begins, then stops. “The prophecy. Vikus believe I will be a part of it. I want to know…”

“You can ask,” Gregor says, “I won’t get mad or anything.”

“Thank you. I am trying to find the words. Please give me a moment.”

Gregor goes to respond, but something moves in the corner of his eye and he settles for nodding before turning his attention to the side of the hallway.

It’s… another vision-ghost-thing. He’d thought they would stop now that he’s in the Underland and surrounded by the people he once thought were ghosts. But here is another see-through Underlander, pale and colorless. She stumbles into the light, away from the wall, and Gregor stops breathing.

She’s covered in blood. There are long slashes that cut into her side and her arms. Her left leg is useless, dragging on the stone behind her.

Gregor knows with horrible certainty that she will die.

“Luxa?” he asks, “There’s no one else here with us right now, right?”

“No, there is not. We are the only people here. Do you see something?” Her voice sounds a little… off, but Gregor can’t tear his eyes away from the dying woman to look at her.

“She’s going to die. She’s losing to much blood.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, she vanishes. Gregor’s throat feels tight. His lungs aren’t getting enough air, his ribcage growing smaller and smaller and slowly suffocating him.

Luxa, when he finally looks at her, is grim. Her head is bowed and her shoulders are tense.

“What will become of us on this journey?” she asks.

Gregor thinks of the blood, of the warnings the other Underlanders have given him, of how ghost-like his visions are. He thinks of the ever-growing feeling of despair that haunts him, how the invisible noose around his neck has never been tighter, and knows, more than he’s ever know anything before, that whatever comes next will only be the beginning of the end.

“Nothing good,” Gregor says. “I don’t think much of us will survive what comes next.”

-

He’s right. He hates that he’s right.

That doesn’t bring back the dead.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Metamorphosis AU: Ch. 24, Pt. 2, Convalescence.

Huzzah! Finally an update!! Thank you all for your patience.

The Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night with Jamie?

You can find previous chapters here or over at AO3.

Its a bit of a long one, so everything is below the cut.

January 22nd, 1744.

“Jamie, this is amazing,” I sighed, trying to take in the wonder my husband had just introduced me to. Rows upon rows of books surrounded us, bookshelves housing tomes of history, poetry, and — the section I was standing in the very midst of — medicine.

My fingers reverently brushed across the spines of the books before me. English, French, and Latin titles bespoke of anatomy and physiology, the beginnings of cardiology and the cardiovascular system. They were far from what I considered the latest break in medical advancement, I was sure a good portion of the information they held within would be entirely incorrect, but the value of such a collection in my day would be priceless. 

“Aye,” he grinned proudly, professing, “I thought you might like it. Murtagh brought me several to read before I found my feet again and now I find myself coming here often… ‘tis soothing, somehow.”

I nodded, knowing the feeling well, but he continued, his focus shifting to the tomes in front of us. 

“Micrographia… Institutiones Medicae... A Directory for— Sassenach look a’ this!”

Jamie eagerly snatched the book from the shelf, rattling off its name and contents as fast as his lips could tout them. 

A Directory for Midwives or a Guide for Women in the Conception, Bearing, and Suckling of their Children. 

“The Anatomy of the Vessels of Generation, The Formation of the Child in the Womb, What Hinders Conception, What Hastens Conception… Christ, everythin’s in here!”

I peered at the open page before him and scanned the rest of the table of contents. 

A Guide for Women in their Labour. 

A Guide for Women in their Lying-In. 

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ

My gut clenched and nausea threatened to over take me at the antiquated phrase. 

Their bloody fucking lying-in. 

This phase of a woman’s pregnancy — the one I was now in the very midst of — often spelled her demise. What, with weeks spent confined to her bedchamber and doted on by the backward practices of an uneducated physician, mothers dropped like flies in this century and their infants soon followed, if not predeceased them. The thought of the entire book being filled with monstrous diagrams made my head spin as I pushed it against Jamie’s chest and staggered out of the row of bookcases. 

“Claire?”

My husband’s voice floated over my head as I careened towards the large fireplace at the other end of the room. I heard him follow me, but didn’t acknowledge his presence as I reached my destination and grabbed for the back of a sturdy wooden chair before the fire. My knuckles turned white as I gripped it, my chest tight as I gasped for air. 

“Are you alright, mo chridhe?” he asked from somewhere behind me. 

“No,” I bit out, my jaw clenching as my head gave a decided shake, “I’m fucking terrified.”

Jamie paused only for a moment before stepping around and coming to stand before me. His face was awash with complete understanding, his eyes alight with his own fears… for he knew first hand the dangers involved in the travail ahead of me. 

“Aye,” he murmured softly, my frantic heartbeat evening out beneath his steady gaze. 

“Forget about the book, mo nighean donn.”

I shook my head as sanity and coherent thought slowly began to creep back in, his nearness steadying me. 

“No, you should read it,” I swallowed hard, tramping down the bile rising at the back of my throat. “We should read it… go through it together.”

Jamie offered his hand over the chair and I took it gladly, continuing as he guided me into his arms. 

“I need you to know what’s going on… I need you to protect me… protect us, should the midwife try any funny business.”

“Funny business?”

“Yes,” I muttered emphatically, albeit muffled by the front of his shirt as I buried my face in his chest. 

He contemplated this foreign phrase for a moment, his whole body rumbling in good humor as he asked, “Did the midwife a’ Lallybroch try any funny business?”

“No,” I shook my head against him as I reckoned back to that fateful day at Lallybroch. 

“No, she knew what she was doing… so did Jenny.”

What I wouldn’t give to have Jenny here. 

Jamie’s sister had been confident in her midwife, in her own capabilities, and in the knowledge that should the worst happen — a very real possibly as her baby had been breach — her young family would be safe in the care of their father and secure in her ancestral home. 

I had no guarantees of any of these things. 

I was incredibly wary of anyone in this century who claimed to have any sort of medical knowledge, unsure of my own body’s limitations — say nothing of strength of those who lived within me — and entirely unwilling to let myself even think of what would happen to Jamie and our children should I die in childbirth. 

A shiver ran through me and Jamie’s embrace tightened, his head tipping forward to rest atop mine. His lips moved amid my curls and his voice brought me out of my thoughts. 

“You liked the midwife a’ Leoch, aye? Mebbe we can find one in France who isna sae bad.”

The bitter taste of dread filled my mouth as I contemplated our impending voyage and subsequent overland journey to Paris. It would take weeks and I wasn’t sure just how many of those I had to spare. 

What if my time came before we reached our destination?

I moved in Jamie’s arms, twisting until I could see his face. I needed to see the surety in his eyes, the strength that somehow still remained after all he’d been through. 

“And if she is?”

His lips hovered above mine, his blue eyes true as he promised, “I willna leave your side, mo chridhe… not for a moment.”

I kissed him soundly, taking him at his word, needing his presence and support more than any guidance a midwife could give me. 

Jenny’s labor had been almost instinctual, a dance orchestrated by the movements within her… I knew myself best while I was within my husband’s arms, intune to the inner workings of my womb and that of my heart. I could let the world and its worries fade away and focus on him… on us. 

Maybe mine could be the same.  

He kissed me again, making my heart soar and my head spin. His good hand slid down my back, settling on my hips for a moment before dipping even further to firmly grasp my bottom. He lifted me ever so slightly as he pressed himself against me and revealed a need as mighty as my own. 

Electricity ran up and down my spine and I took hold of a fistful of his hair as his tongue slipped between my lips. I moaned around his intrusion, my hips bucking against his, and I felt his lips smile around mine as he slowly retreated. 

“Jamie,” I hissed. 

“Aye,” he purred, “I ken.”

Another, foreign voice echoed my husband’s name from somewhere in the distance, completely interrupting the first truly intimate moment I’d had with him in months. 

“Jamie?”

“Go the bloody hell away,” I muttered and pulled Jamie’s lips back to mine. 

He chuckled at this and the deep vibrations of his delight sent me reeling towards the point of no return

“Jamie?” The voice tried again, “Are ye within?”

I plunged my hands between us, tugging at his shirtfront and entirely untucking as I groaned, “Not just yet, but he will be in a moment.”

Jamie’s smile spread into a full on grin as he kissed me quickly, but then — to my complete dismay — he broke away and settled me back onto the ground. I blinked up at him in confusion as he called out to our disturbance. 

“Aye, over here, lad,” he guided, tucking his shirt neatly back into its place. 

Guilt overwhelmed me as I back peddled, letting him move towards the general direction of who I assumed to be Willie. 

He isn’t ready, you bloody fool. Do you really expect him to hop right back into your pants now that he’s regained basic function of his extremities?! Give him time!

Jamie took hold of my hand before I could move away much farther and pulled me back to his side, murmuring low, “We’ll see wha’ news he has, then send him on his way, aye?

I nodded without comment and he squeezed my hand. He tipped my chin up with one finger to look at him and his eyes communicated all I needed to know and then some before he kissed me once more. 

Soon… I promise. 

I sighed as he pulled away and forced a smile for the unofficial go-between to Jamie’s uncle Dougal. I refused to speak to the bloody man and as he and my husband were at constant loggerheads over our flight from the Highlands, Willie had stepped into the position with gusto. 

“A good evenin’ to ye, Mistress Claire,” his genuine and warm greeting was soothing, even as his presence was the last thing I wished for right now.

“And to you, Willie.”

Jamie’s stance shifted, unable to stay still as he anticipated the news to come, “Did you find him, then? The captain of the Demeter?”

“Nae, I didna,” the boy’s face fell. “It sailed wi’ the tide last morn… but the innkeeper thought it’d be back in three weeks time.”

“Nothin’ before then?” Jamie sighed.

“No’ that I could find… but I’ll keep lookin’.”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded, having to accept this. “I thank ye, lad.”

Willie stood a little straighter at his, his admiration for my husband growing by the day, and insisted, “‘Twas nothin’. We’ll find one yet.”

The boy made a move to leave, but then remembered something.

“Oh, Mistress Claire, Father Anselm asked if ye’d come to the kitchens… Brother Josef has a wee burn tha’ needs a bit of tendin’, if ye’re up to it.”

His face was expectant, knowing my answer before I said it. These men of faith had done so much for me and my own that it would be incredibly rude of me to not see to the wound, say nothing of unethical.

“Of course,” I tried to smile.

Jamie saw my reticence and grinned as he fanned the flames within me, picking up the book we’d found and giving me a dismissive whack on the behind with it, “I’ll bring this back to your rooms, then, Sassenach.”

“Wait for me, mmm?” I gave him a look before moving away, telling him exactly what I thought of that.

“Oh, aye,” he grabbed my hand, bringing me hastily back to his side as he dipped his head, purring a directive for my ears alone. 

“Hurry.”

…

The act of caring for Brother Josef’s minor wound had cooled my head, but the heat of what awaited me in my chambers still burned deep within me as I bid the small gathering of monks goodnight. I assured them I could find my way on my own, not wanting their celibate presence along side me as I wrestled with what this stage in Jamie’s recovery would mean for the both of us. 

Was he really ready?

Physically, my husband was certainly healthy enough for intercourse — provided he was smart about the use of his right hand — but it was his emotional state that I was worried about. 

Jamie had remained silent over much about what had happened in that hell hole, but I knew for certain that the sadistic bastard hadn’t kept his hands to himself. The psychological scars were plain for me to see, even with my untrained eyes, and I had no idea how to proceed. 

Would my touch echo his?

I sighed, making the executive decision to let Jamie’s needs guide my own, and turned my thoughts instead to my own physical state. 

I hadn’t been with Jamie in eleven weeks and I’d be blatantly lying if I said I hadn’t kept track… or that I wasn’t self-conscious about my pregnant form. I was swollen and stretched to my breaking point, yet my hormones had me strung so high that I was ready to jump him at any and every possibility. 

It wasn’t long before I reached my destination and was forced to face quite another reality. 

Was I ready?

My hand hesitated on the knob, my lower lip tucking between my lips as I chastised myself. 

Pull yourself together, Beauchamp. 

I opened the door before I could think of a reason not to and stepped through. I found Jamie in my favorite chair before the fire, reading the book we’d found together. 

His head lifted at my entrance and I found all of my doubts disappearing into thin air at his smile. It warmed me to my toes, setting the dull throb between my legs into fine frenzy as he set the book aside and rose to his feet. 

He reached out his hand, taking mine as we met in the middle of the room and greeting me with a kiss that took the very breath from my lungs. 

“Do you ken what I just reading about, mo chridhe?” Jamie purred, his lips hovering just above mine. 

“What’s that?” I hedged, any coherent thought blissfully drowned out by his intoxicating presence. 

“Your anatomy.”

“Mine specifically?” I found myself grinning like an idiot as I settled more comfortably in his arms, “Or female genitalia in general?”

“Genitalia,” he tested out the word, rolling it around in his mouth with great satisfaction for a moment before pronouncing, “You have verra fine genitalia, Sassenach.”

His hips shifted against mine and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, but still I found myself hesitant. I gave a wordless response, neither agreeing or disagreeing, and he caught this, intuitive as ever. His brow furrowed as he studied my face, moving his away as his head tipped to one side in contemplation. 

“Do you think I’d find you anythin’ but beautiful, mo nighean donn?”

I shook my head slowly as one shoulder lifted in a feeble shrug, my gaze flicking away.

“Ach, mo gradhe,” he murmured, completely deflated. 

My jaw clenched as tears burned at the back of my eyes and I slid them shut as his warm hand lifted to cup my cheek. 

“You’ve taken such care of me,” his thumb gently wiped away my tears. “Will you let me care for you?”

I sighed, turning my face to place a kiss in his palm, but he stopped me, slipping his fingers beneath my chin and tipping it up. 

“Claire,” he coaxed, kissing me gently.

His right hand lowered to the obvious presence between us, his good arm siding around my hips as he pulled me closer. 

“Do you remember what I told you a’ the first?” he murmured. “When you were beginnin’ to show an’ worrit I wouldna find you attractive?”

I shook my head, but opened my eyes, unable to speak and yet needing to see my husband’s face. A warm smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, remembering back to those early days of my pregnancy. I was sicker than a dog, unable to keep much of anything down, but his care for me had been devoted and constant, never wavering. 

“I said that I loved the glow you seemed to have about you… tha’ the more our children needed of you, the more beautiful you become.”

His eyes were bright, the faint sheen of his own tears making them sparkle in the low light. 

“I thought I meant it then,” Jamie’s voice deepened into a sensual purr, his nose a breath away from mine, “but, now… a dhia, Sorcha, the very sight of them thrivin’ so within you…”

He kissed me then, long and hard, until we were both gasping for air, desperate for more of each other. His fingers clumsily tugged at the fastenings of my skirts, but effectively reached his goal, sending them into a heap at my feet. He paused for a moment, his hands trembling slightly as they lowered to frame the growing swell of our children.

I brought my own to rest atop his as I kissed him once more, moving his left hand to the place where they stirred within me, eagerly responding to their father’s greeting. 

“They’re safe,” he murmured hoarsely, burying his face in my neck. 

I nodded, slipping my arms around him, my fingers splaying wide across his back. I could feel the raised scars against my palms, stirring up memories of their infliction and the more recent injuries he’d experienced at the hand of the same sadistic madman. 

“So are you,” I echoed.

Sliding my hands between us, I deftly unbuckled the belt around his waist, sending his kilt cascading down on top of the heap of my skirts before taking hold of great bunches of his shirt. I pushed the material up and he eagerly tugged it over his head, entirely willing to be the first to bare himself and stand naked in the middle of the room. 

His eyes found mine after surfacing from the swath of fabric, deep pools of arousal echoing that of his firm stance below, and I quickly began to melt under his gaze. The warmth in my cheeks quickly began to spread as I loosened what constituted as my stays, my bodice gaping open. I moved to shrug it off, but he stopped me, his hands keeping my sleeves on my shoulders. 

Jamie’s good hand slid between my shirtfront and thin shift, his palm savoring the fullness of my breast. The other soon joined it and his thumbs began to gently caress my sensitive nipples. They stood on end in an instant, but he kept up his coaxing repetition, making me squirm as I struggled to get closer to him, the bulk between us entirely getting in my way.  He acquiesced with a smile and lowered his mouth to mine as he stripped me down to my final layer. 

This done, he took my hand and led me towards the bed. My head spun with emotion and arousal, but, still, I stopped halfway there and dropped his hand. Jamie paused with me, concern growing between his brows as he tried to gauge my thoughts. 

“Wait,” I murmured, biting my lip for a moment as I fought indecision, but then brought my hand to the drawstring at my neck. I quickly loosened it and let my shift slip off my shoulders, sliding it over my belly and decisively discarding it on the floor. 

A low rumble of delight started at my husband’s toes and rose up the length of him, morphing into a growling moan as it hit the back of his throat. He had me in his arms again before I could register his movement, swiftly guiding me to sit on the edge of the bed and then lying against the pillows a moment later. 

I blinked up at him in surprise — such activity usually requiring quite a bit more time and effort on my own — and let out a rather undignified giggle. 

Jamie’s prideful smile hovered above me for only a moment before his mouth got down to business, finding my own again first off, then lowering to the base of my neck as he settled himself over me. I slipped my fingers into his curls, taking hold of a fistful and inhaling sharply as he once more found my sensitive breasts. 

A low rumble of delight sounded from deep within him and I groaned, trying to pull his lips back up to mine. He only grinned, brushing a kiss across my sternum as he moved from one breast to the other.

This addressed, his hands drifted down to my belly and he took a moment to greet his children. His fingers skimmed across my skin as his lips placed a reverent kiss just above my navel, then traced a direct line to my pubic bone. He shifted then, leaving his good hand between my legs while returning his lips to mine. 

“The wee book says ‘tis the clitoris tha’ gives you pleasure,” he purred. “Delight in copulation, I believe were his words.”

A wordless moan escaped my lips as he gave the area in question exquisite attention, my hips bucking as I demanded more of him. 

“Tis true, then?” Jamie cheekily asked, knowing full well the answer. “Tha’s one thing Culpepper’s got right.”

“Damn the bloody book, Jamie!”

He kissed me once more before removing his hand and settled himself into position. I lifted my knees, gripping him tightly as my arms slipped around his neck. His brow pressed against mine and his eyes slid shut, his lips trembling slightly as he hesitated. 

“Come find me,” I crooned softly. “Come find us.”

[mobius-prime]

186. Sonic the Hedgehog #118

Oh boy, we've got a big one on our hands, guys! First of all, it's worth noting that for the next seven issues the comic kind of had this "magazine cover" gimmick going on, where every story was described on the cover in a humorous, pseudo-tabloid manner. And second, every story in this issue is highly significant, two of which have a huge impact on future storylines, and one of which resolves a problem I've been salty about for a while. So without further ado, let's jump right in!

Robotnik's Return

Writer: Benny Lee Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

“Benny”, I've noticed, as a writer has an unfortunate tendency to solve any conflicts in the plot extremely suddenly, often in a very deus-ex-machina manner that contrasts with the "long game" approach that Penders usually takes toward his stories. For those who don’t know - I was unaware as well at first - “Benny Lee” is a pseudonym that Karl Bollers took on for some of his stories after receiving criticism for his writing. (However, I’m listing him as a separate writer just for the sake of consistency, as clearly he didn’t want certain stories associated with his real name.) For whatever reason, his stories as “Benny” seem to be choppy and full of fix-it gimmicks that, instead of gently guiding the story along a natural path, blindfold it and shove it violently into the next plot point without mercy. This story is no different. Eggman and Snively have managed to finally restore themselves to new mechanical bodies without any pesky Mobian interference, and what's worse, these bodies are free of the virus that caused Eggman's data on the location of Knothole to be corrupted. He's delighted at the opportunity to find its location at last and launch an attack, but, you guessed it, right at that moment the Freedom Fighters burst in, having tracked their location.

Suddenly, the forms of Eggman, Snively, Sonic, and Tails all begin to dissolve, with Nicole confirming to a shocked Sally that they've been unexpectedly teleported somewhere else. But where might that be?

Yes, that's right, they've been randomly abducted by aliens! Now, I have to point something out about this page. You can see that at first, the aliens are speaking in some kind of alien language before they presumably switch on a translator or something. Except, that's not actually just "some alien language"! Look closely at it. Notice anything unusual? Anyone who's ever been to Disneyland in California should recognize exactly what they're looking at - the symbols used in the aliens' speech are in fact the same symbols used in the carvings on the walls of the Disneyland Indiana Jones attraction! I recognized it immediately - I grew up going to Disneyland my entire life, and it's still my favorite theme park in the world. So, I took the liberty of translating exactly what these aliens were saying using one of the old decoder cards that they used to hand out in line! For anyone hoping for some intelligible speech, you're going to be disappointed - it looks like they might have just keysmashed on a keyboard and then "translated" the results. The first dialogue bubble says, approximately, "Denite idlothxo vhry muph i," and the second one "Viuyhkvqj efsqr." I say "approximately" because the letterer appears to have taken a few liberties with the symbols, which don’t all exactly match the ones on the decoder card. It's honestly a very strange but funny homage to the ride - clearly, whoever was responsible for the symbols being included is a fan of Disneyland, and as a fellow fan, it gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside to see these symbols in the place I would have least expected them.

Anyway, the aliens explain that they've beamed the four of them up here for a little experiment. They use their technology to transform Sonic and Tails into mecha bodies, while transforming Eggman and Snively back into their flesh and blood forms, and inform the four that they will be made to battle each other, and the winners will be reverted to their original forms while the losers will be made to keep their new forms permanently. This seems like a rather pointless experiment, if you ask me - I mean, what is even being gained from this apart from some perverse entertainment? - but the four test subjects are beamed into a holographic recreation of Robotropolis and begin to battle it out. Eggman and Snively immediately plop themselves into a robotic mech, but Mecha Sonic and Mecha Tails easily blow it apart. Eggman runs for his life and Mecha Sonic gives chase, while Mecha Tails guards the terrified Snively to ensure he doesn't run for it. Mecha Sonic easily spots his quarry with infrared vision and shoots a net to capture him, winning the "game."

The aliens keep their word and return everyone to the planet, with Sonic and Tails back in their normal bodies, and Eggman and Snively now reverted back to an organic form. Sonic and Tails return to Knothole where they explain everything that happened to the others, and while they're a little skeptical they ultimately accept the story, though they're nervous that since Eggman is now flesh and blood once more, it will be harder to track him. You see what I mean about this being a deus-ex-machina resolution to the Robo-Robotnik problem? It's good for the story to have him be an organic being once more, so that he has to work harder to protect himself from harm instead of weathering explosions and the destruction of his various bodies like they're mere inconveniences, but just… random aliens being the cause? I dunno, man. It is quite interesting, however, to see Eggman's reaction to being transformed back into an organic being, as certainly while in his own zone he existed for the first forty-odd years of his life as an ordinary Overlander, he's remained a robotic being for decades by now. That will be hard for him to adjust…

Heart to Heart

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

Ever since Eggman's capture of the Secret Service and their subsequent infection with his nanites, the remaining members have been in treatment, with Dr. Quack unable to find a proper cure. However, with Rotor's help, a fix involving aggressive nanomachines sent in to attack the nanites has been developed, and everyone is finally cured. Sally welcomes Geoffrey's return to active duty as the leader of the Secret Service, but he seems dejected and uninterested as she walks away. Hershey asks him what's wrong, and he explains his actions up till now - that as a boy, he always greatly admired his father's sense of duty and sought to emulate it, which evolved into his no-nonsense, humorless personality of today. However, he was always jealous of Sonic and wanted to prove that he was better than him, which was why he convinced Elias to accept his "help" in ruling the kingdom in the king's stead.

Now this is the Geoffrey I like. Up till now, he's been alternately somewhat charming and likeable, and a complete jerkwad. This is the turning point where he goes from a self-centered jackass, to a genuinely focused individual who actually respects those around him, including his rivals. It seems that some time in isolated treatment has given him lots of time to reflect on himself, and in the end Hershey brings out the best in him. With his resolve renewed, he approaches the king and asks for permission to take some leave from his position and go in search of the missing Elias, which the king approves, so together he and Hershey leave to find him. This is honestly the best ending to Geoffrey's asshattery that we could get, because not only does it make him a much more likeable character, but it actually pairs him up with someone who is, well, his age, instead of him creepily pursuing a fifteen-year-old as his beau instead. Hooray for character development!

Ultimate Power (Part Four)

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Dawn Best Colors: Jason Jensen

We've reached the ultimate confrontation - the culmination of everything the Green Knuckles Saga has been building up to this entire time. Knuckles faces off against Mammoth Mogul, his finger on the button ready to disconnect Dimitri from life support. Mogul reveals that he was able to obtain his own version of the Chaos Syphon due to having actually met Dimitri once before, when he was still an ordinary scientist developing the device. Despite the danger, Knuckles refuses to listen to Mogul, determined to save Dimitri while preventing Mogul from taking his powers, and begins to pulse with light which reflects across the whole city, drawing Remington, Julie-Su and the Chaotix, and Lien-Da to his location like a beacon. Mogul, furious that Knuckles is refusing to submit, hits the button to disconnect Dimitri's life support, and Knuckles immediately leaps into action to prevent him from dying.

…okay, Penders, a word of advice, writer to writer. If you ever make your character say "Not if I go into overload mode," you have just ensured that no one will take him seriously and will immediately begin to meme the hell out of it. Also, when the hell did Mogul find the time and energy to build an entire Chaos Syphon room in the middle of Echidnaopolis? Knuckles, in his efforts to save Dimitri's life while resisting the Chaos Syphon, begins to expend energy at a rate he's never reached before, bathing the entire city in his green light. This rapid release of energy causes Mogul's facility to explode violently, leaving a crater in the city where the building once stood. Everyone rushes to the site of the blast, worried about what they might find.

Oh, did you think this very important main character was going to survive this altercation? Well think again, 'cause Knuckles is deader than dead! While all of this is going on, a rededication ceremony is happening across the city, to honor the return of the island's inhabitants to their homes after the firing of the Quantum Beam. The speaker is confused about Knuckles' absence for such an important gathering, but Lara-Le nervously tries to insist that he probably has a good reason. I'm sure she didn't expect the reason to be that he's really, super duper dead!

Yeah, I wasn't joking, guys. For those of you who hadn't read the comic up till now and were unaware, yes, Knuckles has actually died in this issue. There's no mistake, no trickery. He's gone. And that's the note that this issue decides to end on! I guess we have to say goodbye to Knuckles as one of the comic's main characters, because there's no way a comic book would ever temporarily kill someone off only to bring them back a few issues later…

[rosesnvines]

A Clash of Ice and Storm

Well, this turned out really long, the longest Jackunzel short I’ve ever written, lol. But it’s finally done!! And I’m so happy with it!! I might need to tweak a bit here and there, but I’m calling this done and submitting it. XD Hope you all like it!! (Also, can you figure out who’s playing the powerful beings? It’s based on the Snow Queen fairy tale, and Elsa’s not in the role of Snow Queen. Hints are in the tags. ;P)

Once upon a time, in the faraway kingdom of Corona, lived a princess named Rapunzel and a peasant named Jack. Since his mother was a maid in the palace, Jack was allowed to partake in Rapunzel’s schooling. He became her closest friend and dear playmate because of it. They liked to play in Rapunzel’s little greenhouse where their days were filled with laughter and learning, that, is, until one year. Unbeknownst to them, there was an evil witch who lived in the sky and she delighted in bringing torment and pain to people around the world. That year, her cloud was traveling over Corona when she spotted Jack and Rapunzel playing in the greenhouse. With an evil grin, she picked her victim as the clouds began to darken. She sent a bolt of lightning and it struck Jack. Pieces of the lightning turned into glass, a piece getting stuck in his right eye and another becoming imbedded in his heart. 

“Jack!” called out Rapunzel with worry as Jack yelped in pain. She rushed to his side. “Jack! Are you alright?” 

Jack began rubbing at his eye. “I’m fine.” 

“Is there something in your eye?” 

Jack pushed her away. “I’m fine!” Rapunzel stared at him in shock. “I’m going home.” 

“S-see, see you tomorrow?” Jack gave no reply as he stomped out of the greenhouse. Rapunzel had no clue what had happened and sat down in the greenhouse to process everything. They had been playing hide-and-seek when Jack cried out. Had he pricked his finger on a thorn again? He had always told her he was fine when she asked, but never as rudely as he did just now. Maybe a good night’s sleep was what he needed. Rapunzel went into the castle, thinking it best not to worry, but there was a nagging at the back of her mind that told her she should be worried.

She went to check up on him the next day, but she found to her dismay that he wasn’t there and his mother didn’t know where he was. His mother didn’t see him come home that night either. Rapunzel came back every day to check up on Jack, and his mother giving the same worried answer, though it had become evident that he would come back home after his mother was sound asleep. As soon as Rapunzel got the answer, she took to looking for him as quickly as she could before needing to get back to the castle. After two weeks of worry, her parents sent out guards to search for him, but Rapunzel kept up her own search in her free time. Finally, one day, she found him, and her heart sank. He was hanging out with the Stabbington twins, the most notorious and horrid people she had ever met. But all thought of them was pushed to the side when she saw Jack jumping into a lake. Since it was late autumn, the lake was very cold, and Rapunzel let out a scream as she rushed forward. He was going to freeze to death! 

“Jack! Come out of that lake this instant!” she shouted. Jack swam to the shore and shot her a mischievous grin. There was something of an evil glint to his eyes that made Rapunzel shiver. 

“Care to join me?” he said as he reached his hand out to Rapunzel. 

Rapunzel snuck a glance at the Stabbington twins, they were getting closer. She turned back to Jack, and those blue eye, those eyes that had once been filled with love for her now seemed to be filled with hate. A rage filled her, and reached forward. Rapunzel grabbed his hand, but before he could pull her into the lake, she yanked him clear out of the lake and the two went sprawling onto the ground. The Stabbingtons took a few steps back as Rapunzel and Jack got up. 

Jack growled as he glared at her. “So, you’re stronger than you look. Won’t help you again.” 

Rapunzel returned the glare. “Jack, you’re coming home with me, right now!” 

Jack laughed cruelly. “You can’t make me. And I don’t want to go back to your boring home!” 

“Jack, please, you’re going to get yourself killed!” She let out a gasp as little flurries fell to the ground. The four teens glanced up at the sky. “It’s the first snow of the year,” whispered Rapunzel. She glanced back at Jack. “You really have to come with me now.” She grabbed his arms and began pulling him away from the lake. “It’s getting colder.” She turned and paused, the Stabbington brothers were standing in her way. 

“You heard him, he doesn’t want to go back to your boring home,” taunted one as they stepped forward. 

“He’d rather stay here with us,” said the other. “And have some real fun.” 

“Real fun doesn’t involve nearly killing yourselves,” retorted Rapunzel. She let out a shriek as the twins grabbed her arms. 

“Well then, you haven’t had much fun, have you?” said one with a grin. 

Rapunzel wrangled her arms free and turned, running into Jack. “Jack, let’s go, please!” She grasped at his shirt, right as the Stabbingtons grabbed her arms again.

“I think a dunking will be good for you.” 

“Are you sure?” They glanced at Jack. “She is the princess after all. Do you really want to anger the king?” 

“Just a quick dunk,” said one twin. 

“We won’t let go of her, promise,” said the other. They tried to drag her away, but she held onto Jack’s shirt. 

“No!” she cried out as all three boys tried to wrestle Jack’s shirt out of her hands. There was a brief struggle, but the Stabbingtons yanked Jack’s shirt out of Rapunzel’s hands, the momentum sending Jack sprawling on the ground. This dislodged the piece of glass from his heart, for a little while. Jack yelped in pain, especially when the piece worked to get back into his heart. But he was in control of himself, if only for a little while. His head snapped up when Rapunzel screamed. The Stabbingtons had nearly dragged her all the way to the lake. He jumped up and ran towards them. 

“Wait!” They paused and glanced at him, but Rapunzel knew she had her Jack back. “I think I should do the honors.” Rapunzel’s eyes widened, no. 

The Stabbingtons grinned cruelly. “You have a point.” 

“Go for it.” 

Jack nodded before glancing at Rapunzel. His arms shot out, and the brothers found themselves flailing in the lake, while Rapunzel stood staring at Jack in surprise. 

“Jack?” 

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the lake. But they only got a few feet before Jack began to double over in pain from the shard trying to take back control. 

“Jack! Jack, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” 

Jack grunted. “I, I don’t know. But I know that, once this pain goes away, I’m going to hate you for no reason. That’s not me Rapunzel. And, and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t even know how I can be me right now. The last . . . ungh!” Jack paused as he gasped for breath, fighting the shard with everything he had , though he knew it would win eventually.  

“Jack!” 

Jack put his hand to stop her from coming closer. “Just go, Rapunzel, please, go! I’ll draw them away.” He glanced at her. “You have to find a way to bring me back, you have to. I don’t want to be like this forever.” 

“I’m going to kill you, Overland!” 

Jack glanced back at the lake before turning and pushing Rapunzel forward. “Go!” He turned and ran in the opposite direction. He had a good head start before the Stabbingtons saw him and took off after him. Rapunzel, now determined more than ever, turned and dashed back to the village. She nearly ran into the royal guard on horseback, accompanied by her parents and Mrs. Overland.

“Rapunzel! Are you alright?” asked her father as he and her mother pulled her into the safety of their arms. 

“I’m fine, but Jack’s not! Something is dreadfully wrong with him, and, and the Stabbingtons are going to kill him!” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Jack pushed them into the lake to keep them from harming me, but now they’re chasing him!”

“Go! Find the boy and bring him to us!” ordered the king. 

“Yes sir!” chorused the guards before climbing on their steeds and raced off towards the lake. 

Rapunzel broke down, now understanding that something was keeping her Jack away from her. Her parents and Mrs. Overland asked her what was wrong, so she told them everything as they made their way back to the castle. When they reached the castle, they were silent. 

The queen broke the silence. “I think I have heard of such a thing, happening before.” 

Rapunzel glanced up at her with hope. “Really?” 

Her mother nodded. “Yes, my nursemaid told me tales of a witch living in the clouds who used thunderstorms as a cover to cause evil on the world. Not every thunderstorm hid her, but it was wise to be cautious, just in case.” 

Rapunzel gasped. “There was a thunderstorm when this started!” 

Mrs. Overland gasped. “Oh no.”

The queen sighed. “It is as I feared, she is real then. I had long believed that she wasn’t, but now . . . come, we should check the library to see if there are any tales of people breaking her curse on them.” 

“Or if there is anyone out there who can help us find out,” said the king. The queen nodded before leading the group into the library to look. The rest of the servants served them dinner and coffee in the library, so they could keep searching. Rapunzel, despite her best efforts, eventually fell asleep. But the adults kept searching all through the night. 

Meanwhile, three figures returned to the lake, two of them dragging the third. 

“Come on, guys, I don’t know!” said Jack. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” said one twin, keeping a tight grip on Jack’s arm, “first you’re all buddy-buddy with the princess.” 

“Then you start hanging out with us earlier this month,” said the other. 

“And today, you’re all sweet on the princess again, and you knocked us into the lake.” He paused as they reached the lake’s shore. “Only right to return the favor.” 

“Yeah, well . . . agh!” The twins tossed Jack into the lake. The freezing temperature sent a shock through Jack’s body, and he swam back to the surface as quickly as possible. He came up for a second for air, but was shoved back under by two pairs of arms. He fought them as best as he could, but his arms were becoming numb quickly, as well as his legs. There was a pain in his chest as the lake chilled him to the bone. The pain made him fight as hard as he could, but the Stabbingtons were just as insistent as keeping him under water. He knew he wouldn’t last for long, his body was becoming numb quick. 

“Let go of him,” said a voice. The Stabbingtons glanced behind themselves and saw a lone figure dressed in a red and white uniform. Dark hair fell almost to his shoulders and his pale skin wasn’t flushed red from the cold. His indigo eyes narrowed as he said threateningly, “Let go of him.” 

The Stabbingtons glanced at each other before letting go of Jack, and charging the guy. But the guy jumped high and cleared their heads. He landed behind them and quickly pulled Jack out of the freezing water. The Stabbingtons turned and tried to rush the guy again, but he was already on his feet and facing them. With two well-aimed, strong kicks, the Stabbingtons were sent sprawling across the ground. The guy turned back to Jack as he coughed up water. 

“Is he alright?” asked a woman from the other side of the lake. She was standing beside a pure white sleigh with blue frosty designs that was pulled by two large wolves. 

“He’s alive, but barely.” 

The Stabbingtons stared in shock as the woman walked across the lake, the lake freezing to ice under her feet. She knelt by Jack, and kissed his forehead. Jack seemed to be able to breathe easier. “That should keep the shard from getting any further into his heart.” She stood up and glanced across the lake. “Take him to the sleigh and bundle him up.” 

“Yes ma’am,” said the guy as he picked up Jack gently and carried him across the frozen lake to the sleigh. The woman turned towards the Stabbingtons, and walked gracefully towards them. They could see her better now, and stared in awe. Her skin was as dark as wood, her hair looked as white and as fluffy as newly fallen snow, and her eyes were as blue as a clear, winter morning.

“Wow, you’re beautiful,” one twin finally said. The two yelped as two icicles grew quickly, aimed at their faces. 

“And deadly,” she said. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. I need you to take a message to the princess.” 

“But, but, who are you?” 

Her blue eyes seemed to flash as she answered, “The Snow Queen.”

The next morning, the Stabbingtons were in an audience with the royal family and Mrs. Overland. The guards had found them in the wee hours of the morning and brought them immediately to the castle. The Stabbingtons quickly gave the message that the Snow Queen had Jack, that Rapunzel could find her castle in far north where the snow never melts, and that she was to come alone. Rapunzel was frightened by the idea of Jack being with the Snow Queen, but she was determined to help her friend, no matter what. There was a flurry of activity in the castle that day. Provisions were made, clothes were packed, goodbyes were said, and a horse was saddled. Rapunzel was thrilled that her parents were so supportive of her. A guard would travel with her through the forest a ways, but they would leave her at the border of the country. After that, she would be completely on her own. 

Early the next morning, Rapunzel left the castle after some final farewells from her parents and Mrs. Overland. She and two guards rode on for several days, the guards eventually staying with her for a little longer. But soon, they had parted, and Rapunzel continued on alone. Things were going pretty well, until a freak storm scared her horse away. Rapunzel realized it had to have been the witch’s doing, as the storm seemed to chase after her rather than her horse. Rapunzel began to panic, the witch was determined to stop her! Not only that, but it was the same lightning. Rapunzel hadn’t noticed it before, but the lightning that hit Jack and the lightning that was chasing her now, had a purple hue to it. She screamed as she ran helter skelter, trying to keep the lightning from hitting her, until one came straight at her. 

“Stay down!” A young man with a shield lept in between her and the lightning. The lightning bounced off the shield and cracked a tree in half. “Come on!” The young man grabbed her arm and, keeping the shield between them and the witch, the two ran all the way to a gate. The gate was opened by a lady in a green dress and long, brown hair. 

“Hurry!” she called out to them. The two made a mad dash for the gates, and jumped in. The lady in green quickly closed the gates behind them, right as another bolt of lightning came screaming through the air towards them. The bolt hit the gates with a thunderous crash, but the gates held, and the assault seemed to stop. 

“Why . . . why has she stopped?” asked Rapunzel, panting for breath. 

“This is one of a few places that she can’t touch,” said the lady in green as she helped Rapunzel to her feet. “My power is protecting it.”

“Um, OK . . . and you are?” 

“The Summer Lady,” she said with a smile. She held out her hand to the young man as he rose to stand next to her. “And this is my guard, and dearest friend, the Sun Prince.” 

Rapunzel curtsied as the Sun Prince bowed. “A pleasure to meet you, your highness.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” said the Sun Prince with a wink and a grin. Now that Rapunzel wasn’t running for her life, she could get a better look at her two saviors. The Summer Lady had brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, brown eyes, was about the same height as Rapunzel, maybe a little shorter, and had a crown of flowers on her head. The Sun Prince had tan skin, brown hair, blue eyes, a lopsided grin, and was taller than both the Summer Lady and Rapunzel. He was wearing a blue and white guard uniform. Rapunzel began to tear up, he reminded her so much of Jack. 

“Oh, um, what’s wrong?” he asked. 

“You remind me of Jack!” blurted Rapunzel before breaking down and sobbing. 

The Summer Lady bent down and hugged Rapunzel. “Your friend Jack?” 

“Is with the Snow Queen!” 

“Oh yes, I know.” 

Rapunzel stopped crying and glanced at the Summer Lady in surprise. “You, you know? How?” 

The Summer Lady smiled. “Oh, the Snow Queen and I are friends, actually, and we send messages by mice as often as possible. Don’t worry about Jack right now, he’s safe with her. Just like you’re safe with us.” 

“But, I have to get to him, and save him!” 

“I know, but I have to get you ready.” 

Rapunzel blinked. “Ready? Ready for what?” 

“To enter into the Snow Queen’s kingdom. There’s no way you would be able to survive that harsh land without her or my help.” 

Rapunzel sniffed. “Then, how can I enter?” 

The Summer Lady patted her shoulder. “I have a very special flower that not only will it keep you warm, it will also protect you from that witch. But, you must eat it first and wait a while for the flower to become a part of you.” 

“How, how will that work?” 

The Summer Lady shrugged. “Guess we’re going to have to wait and find out. You’re the first person to do this.” 

“Is it safe?” 

“Oh, perfectly. See, this flower has the power to heal and protect, so you’ll be perfectly fine.” 

“Oh, um, alright. How long will it take?” 

The Summer Lady and the Sun Prince glanced at each other. The Summer Lady glanced back at Rapunzel as she let out a sigh. “A few months, at least.” 

Rapunzel’s eyes widened. “A few months? But what about Jack?” she exclaimed. 

The Summer Lady placed a hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. ‘He’s in the safest place he can be at this moment. I can assure you the Snow Queen is taking good care of him until you arrive.” 

“Ugh,” muttered Rapunzel, “why couldn’t she have just brought him to me instead of me having to go to her?” 

“Because through this journey, you will find the key to saving him.” 

“Wait, you mean, you don’t know what it is?” 

The Summer Lady shook her head. “No, you have it. You just need to pinpoint what it is within you that can save him. Only you can find the key to saving him.” 

Rapunzel let out a sigh. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” 

The Summer Lady nodded as she took Rapunzel’s hand and led her towards a quaint castle followed by the Sun Prince. The castle was small, smaller than Rapunzel’s castle. “Yes, let’s. The faster we can get you to Jack, the better. The Snow Queen will do everything she can, but there’s only so much she can do.” Rapunzel nodded as she followed her into the castle. She gasped when they entered the sitting room. There, sitting on the coffee table, was a glowing, golden flower in a pot. 

“What, what kind of flower is this?” asked Rapunzel in awe as she stepped forward to inspect it. 

“It’s a drop of the sun,” replied the Sun Prince as he approached the table. “It, unfortunately, was used by some people to keep them young and they kept it hidden from the rest of the world so they can keep using it for themselves. So, I brought it here, and we’ve been looking after it ever since,” he said as he draped his arm around the Summer Lady, “waiting for the right person to give it to, and for the right reasons. Looks like it’s you, Rapunzel.” 

“Me? But, but why?” 

The Summer Lady took her hand. “Because you are not thinking about yourself, but your friend.” 

“And as long as you only use the flower’s powers to help others,” said the Sun Prince, “you will never lose its powers. But the instant you start using it for your own gain, the flower will revert back into a sundrop and return to me. Are we clear on that?” 

Rapunzel nodded vigorously. “Yes sir.” 

The Sun Prince grinned. “Good.” He turned to the Summer Lady. “Shall we prepare the tea?” 

She nodded, smiling. “Yes.” The Sun Prince picked the flower while the Summer Lady got a pot of water boiling. 

“Um, do you need my help with anything?” asked Rapunzel. 

The Summer Lady shook her head. “No, we’re good. Why don’t you go lay down and rest for a bit. We’ll let you know when the tea is done.” 

“And we’ll be having supper soon,” said the Sun Prince with a grin. 

“Are you sure?” 

“We’re good,” said the Summer Lady and the Sun Prince in unison. 

“Alright,” said Rapunzel. She went to sit down on the sofa and watched the two practically dance around each other in the kitchen. She smiled as the Sun Prince began teasing the Summer Lady. It wasn’t long before peals of laughter echoed through the house as the two continued to dance around each other in the kitchen. The Sun Prince then got into some hilarious antics, and Rapunzel wanted to laugh and cry. He really reminded her so much of Jack. If it weren’t for the fact that the Sun Prince had darker skin than Jack, she would have thought they were twins. A few minutes later, when dinner was on the table, the three sat down almost out of breath. Rapunzel finally gave into her cheer and laughed as long and as hard as she could. But though she still worried about Jack, there was a smile on her face, and she was glad. Jack always liked to see her smile. The three chatted gaily over dinner and until Rapunzel finished her tea. They chatted for a little while longer before Rapunzel was sent off to bed. The next morning, the beginning of the effects of the flower could be seen, Rapunzel’s hair had turned golden. 

Rapunzel stayed with the Sun Prince and the Summer Lady until they were satisfied that Rapunzel’s hair had the full effects of the flower. It took a good two years. During that time, the Sun Prince and the Summer Lady taught her many things about plants and how to use the powers that now resided in her hair. The Summer Lady would show her the science behind caring for different flowers, while the Sun Prince showed her the art of arranging the garden and bouquets. Also during that time, the Snow Queen would send them mail, telling them of Jack’s condition. It kept Rapunzel steady, happy to know that he wasn’t in any danger of being completely taken over by the shard of glass in his heart. The Snow Queen had managed to get the shard out of his eye, but it was up to Rapunzel to get the one out of his heart. 

When Rapunzel left, it was a teary farewell. She had become quite close with the Sun Prince and the Summer Lady, and they with her. But she needed to continue on to save Jack, and so she left, with a bag of supplies and her now golden, magical hair. They did promise to help her whenever she called for them. 

Rapunzel continued on north for several weeks without seeing anyone. Until the day two men stepped out from behind a pair of trees. She stopped in her tracks and glanced between the two, feeling quite uneasy. The two looked practically identical, except one had sideburns. There was something else, they looked oddly familiar.

“What do we have here?” said one. Rapunzel’s eyes widened. She knew that voice. These were the Stabbington brothers! What were they doing all the way out here? 

“What’s a pretty little lady doing all alone in the forest?” said the other as the two circled her. They paused as they got a really good look at her. “Wait, do we know you?” 

“Ugh, will you two quit it!” 

Rapunzel let out a soft breath of relief as another young man, much better looking than the Stabbingtons, appeared on the scene. He paused when he saw Rapunzel. 

“Well hello there.”

Rapunzel gave a nervous smile and a shaky wave. “H-hi.” 

“What’s a little lady like you doing all the way out here, and all alone?” 

 The Stabbingtons groaned. “We just asked her that, you idiot,” said one. 

“She was about to answer when you interrupted.” 

“Oh, well I’m sorry I couldn’t hear your whispers ten feet away. But that’s not why I’m here.” The Stabbingtons glanced at the newcomer. “Nick wants everyone back at the base. He has new orders.” 

“What about her?” said one of the Stabbingtons as he pointed at Rapunzel. 

“She’s coming too.” Rapunzel blinked in surprise. The guy sighed. “Come on blondie. The least we can do is give you a place to sleep tonight.” 

Rapunzel brightened. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, that would be wonderful.” 

“Well then, come on, we don’t have all evening.” The four traipsed through the woods until they came upon a rather large campsite. There were dozens of men sitting around the campfire. Upon getting closer, Rapunzel could see that they were all ruffians. Go figure, this was the type of crowd the Stabbingtons liked. She glanced at the guy leading the way. But why would such a good-looking fellow be in with this crowd? Her concerns quickly shifted to the fact that several pairs of eyes were watching her intently. She felt the very sudden desire to disappear and tried to shrink as small as possible. But, if anything, that managed to draw more attention to herself. 

“Who you got there, Flynn?” asked one ruffian as he stepped into the group’s path. 

“A girl we found wandering in the forest,” said one of the Stabbingtons. 

“Your name ain’t Flynn,” snapped the ruffian as he raised his hook and glared at the twins. The twins glared back. Rapunzel noticed this and wondered if the Stabbingtons really were as welcome there, and if this group of ruffians was really all that bad. Whatever the case, thinking that the ruffians might be willing to help her and that they didn’t like the Stabbingtons made her feel a little more confident. 

“But he is right,” said Flynn  with a shrug, “a girl wandering in the forest. Told her we’d set her up for the night.” 

“OK, as long as you said it, not them. You know what Nick said.” 

“Uh, yeah, that’s the reason why I went out to find them. Didn’t need another one of you starting a fight with them when Nick did say he wanted us all here for the new orders.” 

“Yes, speaking of, shouldn’t you four get to the campfire?” said a woman as she joined the group. She had brown hair that flowed past her shoulders, a white fur-lined hat, and a fur lined coat. She glanced at Rapunzel. “You can’t join them, but I can take you to my tent and get you settled for the night.” 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” 

Flynn kissed the woman’s cheek. “That would be perfect, Katherine, thank you.” 

Katherine smiled. “Of course! Just, be sure to come and get me if Nick wants me in on it.” 

“Will do, sweetheart,” said Flynn with a wink before giving her another kiss. Katherine led Rapunzel towards the tents while Flynn led the ruffian and the Stabbingtons to the fire. Rapunzel let out a gasp when they entered the tent. It was decorated rather fancily for someone living in a tent. A little walkway that encircled the bed was made out of colorful stones. There was a dresser and a bookcase situated on the far side of the tent, the bookcase just about overflowing with books. As Rapunzel got closer, she could see that the bed frame, the dresser, and the bookcase all had little engravings of dragons fighting knights, dragons guarding treasures, wyverns guardings hordes of books, princesses looking out of tower windows, and lions fighting unicorns. 

“Wow, these, these are amazing! And done very well,” said Rapunzel as she tried to look at every carving. 

“Thank you! Nick made them for me. He made all the furniture we have,” said Katherine, a hint of pride in her voice as she surveyed the wooden pieces with a smile. 

“Has he tried selling some of his work?” asked Rapunzel. Katherine glanced at her oddly. “These carvings are done so well, it would be a shame if such talent was hidden.” 

Katherine seemed to relax and smiled again. “He has, a few pieces. But each one takes so much time, and not everyone wants to wait.” 

Rapunzel nodded. “I understand that. Making art does take a lot of time.” 

“Do you carve too?” 

Rapunzel shook her head. “Oh no, but I do paint!” 

“I’m sure everyone who sees your art must enjoy it.” 

Rapunzel glanced down as she nodded sadly. “Yes, they do.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

Rapunzel let out a sigh before telling her tale, including the part with the Stabbingtons. Katherine only interrupted her to say, “We knew we shouldn’t trust them. Nobody likes them.” But no other word came out of her mouth until Rapunzel finished her tale. Katherine stared at her in shock for a few minutes before speaking. “Rapunzel, that’s . . . you’re . . .” 

“Please don’t tell anyone, not yet, anyway. I wouldn’t want the Stabbingtons to get any funny ideas.” 

Katherine nodded. “I understand that. Our men are completely trustworthy, but not all can be trusted with a secret, I’m afraid.” She chuckled. “I’m afraid I found that out the hard way.” 

“Oh, what’s your secret? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Well, your highness . . .” 

“Oh please, Rapunzel, just Rapunzel, until I leave.” 

“Of course, Rapunzel. Well, my secret is, or was, now that everyone knows it, that I really like Flynn.” 

“Oh, and he likes you back!” 

Katherine grinned. “Yes. I was afraid that Nick wouldn’t like it. He’s always acted like my brother, you see, and told me that only the best guy could ever become my husband. But, you know, I think I shouldn’t have worried, Nick does think Flynn is one of the best guys out there.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

Katherine glanced at Rapunzel with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I do hope that you can get your friend Jack back.” 

Rapunzel smiled sadly. “I hope so too. But the Summer Lady did receive updates from the Snow Queen about him, so, there’s a chance, I just have to get to him.” 

Katherine nodded before giving Rapunzel a hug. “Well, if there’s any way I can help you on your journey, let me know.” 

Rapunzel smiled warmly as she returned the hug. “I will. You know, I’ve always read and heard tales about ruffians. I think your gang should be in more stories, you’re the nicest ruffians! Except the Stabbingtons, of course.” 

Katherine chuckled. “Of course. Now, I suggest you get some sleep, you still have a long ways to go to get to the Snow Queen’s palace.” 

Rapunzel nodded, right before she let out a yawn. The two chuckled. “I guess it is time for bed. Good night, Katherine. Thank you for everything.” 

“Oh, I didn’t do much, just giving you a place to rest your head. Good night, Rapunzel. Pleasant dreams.” 

Rapunzel nodded as she let out a another yawn and laid her head down on the pillow. The next instant, she was sound asleep. 

Rapunzel felt like it had only been a few minutes since she fell asleep when someone was shaking her awake. She slowly opened her eyes and the figures of Katherine and Flynn came into focus, a third figure standing behind them with his arms crossed. 

“Five more minutes, please?” mumbled Rapunzel groggily before turning over in her bed. . “No, you can’t stay here another minute,” said Flynn rather sternly. 

Rapunzel’s head snapped up as she glanced at Katherine with concern. “Wh-what? Why not? What’s going on?” 

“The Stabbingtons, they, they figured out who you are!” blurted Katherine as she almost pounced on Rapunzel in the bed. 

“What?” 

“They’ve gone to a rival gang with this information. We need to get you out of here, immediately,” said the third man. 

“Nick has one of our horses saddled up to take you,” said Flynn, nodding at the third man. 

Nick nodded. “And it would be best if you left now. I’m sorry to have to turn you out like this, but it’s best that you aren’t here when the Stabbingtons returned.” 

Rapunzel quickly got out of the bed and began putting on her shoes. “But what about you?” 

Nick shot her a grin. “We know how to handle them, don’t worry about us. You get to your friend and set him free from the witch’s curse.” 

“How can I ever thank you for letting me stay the night?” 

Nick rubbed his beard. “Well, you are a princess. I’ll think about it and let you know once you’ve returned home.” 

Rapunzel nodded as she stood up. “Sounds fair. Just, don’t get killed before then.” 

Nick burst out laughing. “I like you. So don’t worry, we definitely won’t get killed. But first, we must make sure you do not get killed. Come, quickly.” Rapunzel followed the trio out of the tent. The rest of their gang were bustling about, breaking camp. 

Rapunzel began to wring her hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to have to go through all this trouble!” 

Katherine laid a gentle hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You probably wouldn’t have even come across the camp if the Stabbingtons hadn’t stopped you and brought you here.” 

“But now we must get you out of here. Come, quickly!” Nick led the way through the camp towards the largest tent Rapunzel had ever seen. She wondered how she hadn’t seen it when she entered the camp. But she put that thought aside when she saw what it held. There were several horses housed in the tent, looking quite warm and comfortable. Except for one grumpy-looking one. His whole demeanor changed when he saw Rapunzel. 

“Max!” exclaimed Rapunzel as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck. 

“You know this horse?” asked Flynn. 

“Yes! He was my horse! We got separated by the witch before the Sun Prince and the Summer Lady found me!” 

“Then we shall let you have him again for the rest of your journey,” said Nick as he quickly saddled Max. “He didn’t really like anyone here.” 

“He did like us more than the Stabbingtons, though, which makes sense now,” said Flynn as he jumped in to help.  Within seconds, Max was ready to go. Flynn helped Rapunzel into the saddle. “You keep going north, go save your friend!” 

Rapunzel nodded. “I will! And I expect to come back to find you all alive!” 

Nick chuckled. “Your wish is our command, your highness. Farewell!” Max took off. 

“Farewell, and good luck!” shouted Katherine with a wave. 

“Farewell!” Rapunzel was able to wave back before she lost sight of them. Max understood the importance of their mission, which was why he was chosen to be her steed. He also seemed tireless, even now as he galloped through the forest, going at a speed Rapunzel didn’t think was possible. But the trees were whizzing by them as they left the encampment far behind, their faces to the north. Max galloped all day, only breaking once for a midday break, and then again for the night. The power of the sundrop in Rapunzel’s hair provided them both with enough warmth that they didn’t have to worry about keeping a fire going through the night. They got up at dawn and ate a quick breakfast before Max galloped all day, stopping for a quick lunch, and going again until night when they had a quick dinner and slept until dawn. After two weeks of the same routine every day, they came across something different. When Rapunzel saw it, she knew the time drew nigh to her completing her search. Before them stood a magnificent castle that looked like it was made of ice. Five towers spiraled into the sky, the middle one being the tallest, and several points sparkled like diamonds in the waning sunlight. An unearthly blue glow seemed to radiate around the door and one of the towers. 

Rapunzel let out a breath. “We’re almost there Max!” Max neighed as if to agree. “Let’s save Jack!” Max huffed before taking off. He seemed to speed up with every step closer, as eager as Rapunzel to get to their final destination. When they got close enough, Rapunzel realized that the blue glow around the door was from the inside, the door was open, meaning the Snow Queen was expecting her. Max slowed down as soon as they were inside. There were lanterns filled with a soft blue glow, but bright enough for Rapunzel to see the exterior. The front hall had a grand staircase in the center, but there was no furniture. “Hello? Snow Queen? It’s Rapunzel! I’m here!” She heard nothing but a slight echo. “Hello?” No answer. “M-maybe they’re in the throne room.” Max nodded and they went off in search of the throne room. They found it, but there was no sign of the Snow Queen still. Yet something in the middle of the throne room caught Rapunzel’s attention. “Wait, is that . . . Jack!” she tumbled off of Max and rushed to the figure lying on the floor. She rolled him over, panicking. He was cold and his hair had turned white. “Oh, Jack, please be alive.” as if to answer her question, a puff of air escaped his mouth. She began to shake him. “Jack, Jack! Wake up! Oh please, wake up!” She only got another puff of air. Hot tears began to fall from her face. No, she couldn’t lose him, she didn’t want to lose him, she realized at that moment that she loved him. “Oh Jack! Please!” She pressed her sobbing face into his chest. “Please Jack, come back to me! I . . . I love you!” She sobbed for a minute before a cough interrupted her. She quickly looked up, scanning the room, but she didn't see anyone but Max standing in the doorway. He neighed and pointed at her, clearly excited. “What?” She turned, and gasped. Jack was waking up! He coughed a couple more times before letting out a groan as he sat up. “Jack! You're alright!” 

“Rapunzel? What, what's going on? Where am I?” He glanced around the room before his eyes widened with recognition. “Oh wait, I do know.” He turned to Rapunzel and pulled her into a tight hug. “I'm so sorry for everything I said and did to you! I . . .”

Rapunzel put a finger to his lips. “It wasn't you, I know. You were being controlled by that witch.” 

“Yes, and you just saved me!” He got up and helped Rapunzel up. Something fell off his jacket to the ground. Jack picked it up. It was a piece of glass. “Why I think this is . . .” A purple-hued face with yellow eyes and white hair appeared in the glass. 

“You think you’ve seen the last of me?” Jack and Rapunzel screamed while he dropped the glass. They backed away from the glass, clinging to each other in fear. 

“Um, Snow Queen? Snow Queen!” 

The witch cackled. “You think she can defeat me?” With wide-eyed horror, Jack and Rapunzel watched as the glass morphed into a lightning bolt and the witch stepped out. “She can't even destroy my glass, only prolong the inevitable.” She raised her hands and purple lighting shot out towards them. 

“Jack!” A figure darted out between them, the lightning bouncing off his shield. 

He turned to Jack and Rapunzel. “Are you two alright?” He was clearly in his thirties, but he had white hair, just like Jack had now. 

“We are, thanks to you,” replied Jack. 

“You!” They looked at the witch. “Did she really think she could keep my glass from your heart?” 

The man growled. “She's kept it from my heart for this long, I’m sure she can keep it away long enough to find my one true love!” The witch sent out another volley of lightning, but the three were safe behind the shield. The man turned to Jack and Rapunzel. “And thanks to you two, I can finally hope again that I will be free of her curse.” 

Rapunzel smiled. “You're welcome.” 

“Leave them alone!” A wall of ice sprung up between the three and the witch. 

“Well well well, if it isn't the Snow Queen herself. Finally come to face me? You’ve avoided this for so long.” Rapunzel gasped when she saw the Snow Queen walk elegantly in a blue, pink, and white dress. 

“Wow, you're beautiful!” 

The Snow Queen gave her a small smile. “Thank you, princess. But she is right.” She turned to the witch with rage in her eyes. “I have avoided this for too long.” 

“You couldn't help it though,” said a young man who looked to be around the Snow Queen's age. He was dressed in silver armor with a red bandanna. His violet eyes seemed to look upon the Snow Queen with love. “You were gathering information on how to stop her, she did cover her tracks well.” He looked at the witch with the same rage. “But we have all the information we need now to stop you once and for all.” 

“Oh, is that so?” sneered the witch. “And what makes you think you have all the information?” The two looked at her, a worry starting to seep into their eyes. The witch cackled. 

“Don’t listen to her, Snow Queen, Wind Lord! She’s just trying to weaken your resolve!” 

“Thank you Captain,” said the Snow Queen, “but please keep Jack and Rapunzel safe. Those are your orders.” 

The Captain nodded. “Yes ma’am.” 

The Snow Queen and the Wind Lord took a step towards the witch. She cackled. “You two can’t defeat me!” 

“That’s why we’re here,” came a male voice. Rapunzel gasped as the Sun Prince and the Summer Lady stepped out from behind Max. Another man was with them. He was chubby and seemed bigger than the Sun Prince. He had the darkest skin of the group, brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing an orange and yellow suit. 

“The Sun Prince, the Summer Lady, and the Stone Lord!” exclaimed the Captain. 

“How did you get here?” asked Rapunzel and the witch at the same time. 

The Sun Prince grinned and pointed at the Stone Lord. “Travelling underground is pretty fast.” He shot an apologetic look at Rapunzel. “I’m pretty sure you had the answer to saving Jack this entire time, but we needed you to know it. Otherwise, we would have used the Stone Lord’s fast method of travel.” He then turned to the Snow Queen and the Wind Lord and bowed. “We’re here, let the party commence!” 

Jack grinned. “I like you.” 

The Wind Lord groaned and rolled his eyes. “Just as I figured.” 

Rapunzel giggled. “I did too.” 

“Now’s not the time,” the Snow Queen ordered. “We have a witch to take care of. Get in position!” The witch realized that she was in trouble as the five surrounded her. She began to let loose volley after volley of lightning, but the Wind Lord and the Snow Queen used their powers to keep her bolts from hitting the other three while they got in position around her. The Captain began inching Jack and Rapunzel towards the door. 

“You can’t defeat me!” shouted the witch, but she looked worried as she glanced at the five surrounding her. 

“Oh I think we can,” said the Wind Lord with determination in his eyes and voice. 

“Ready!” The five raised their hands at the Snow Queen’s shout, their hands shrouded in a soft glow. “Aim!” 

“No!” shouted the witch as she raised her own hands. A swirling, black cloud began to form above her head. Max got behind Jack and Rapunzel as the Captain raised his shield. 

“Now!” Beams of light shot out from their hands, first yellow from the Stone Lord, then blue from the Snow Queen, Green from the Summer Lady, red from the Sun Prince, and finally a deep purple, almost black, from the Wind Lord. The Witch screamed as the beams of light hit her. Bolts of lightning burst from the cloud, hitting the five. They screamed, and their beams of light began to flicker. 

“Stay strong!” shouted the Snow Queen after she got her scream out. 

“We can do this! We have to stay together!” shouted the Wind Lord. They pushed harder, the light grew brighter. The Captain ushered Jack, Rapunzel and Max out of the room. They heard the five yell with determination and the witch screamed out in pain as the light grew even brighter. 

“Close your eyes!’ shouted the Captain. Jack pulled Rapunzel in tight while she held onto Max’s reins, the three squeezing their eyes shut tight. The Captain raised his shield as high as he could before closing his own eyes shut. There were a few moments of silence before they heard the Snow Queen’s voice. 

“It’s alright now, everything’s over. We’ve defeated the witch!” There were hugs all around as they jumped and shouted for joy. 

“Now, I think we should get Jack and Rapunzel back home!” said the Sun Prince. “I know their families are getting very worried.” 

The Stone Lord rolled up his sleeves and grinned broadly. “Alright, everyone, gather around! We’re taking the Cave Express!” 

“Wait, that’s what you call it?” asked the Sun Prince incredulously. 

The Stone Lord shrugged. “Eh, it works.” He glanced at everyone. “Well come on, get a little closer to me, please.” They got closer to him. 

“Wait, why do we have to get close to you?” The Stone Lord grinned at Jack before tapping the ground with his right foot. A giant hole appeared beneath them. 

“That’s why.” Everyone screamed as they fell through the hole, sliding this way and that. Rapunzel let out peals of laughter, but she hung on to Jack. A minute later, they fell out of the hole back onto solid ground. They took a moment before getting up.

“Whoa! How did you do that?” asked Jack. 

“A little trick I learned from the pookas,” said the Stone Lord. 

The Wind Lord walked around slightly dizzy. “OK, I am never doing that again.” 

“Oh come on, it was fun!” said the Sun Prince. 

“That’s what you think.” 

“Alright, you two, knock it off,” said the Captain, stepping between them. “Let’s get these two home first, then you can argue as much as you want once we’ve left Corona.” 

Rapunzel gasped. “We’re home! Oh, Jack, we’re home!” The two hugged before dashing through the gates of Corona, Max right behind them. The sun was just rising over the horizon, and people were getting up and about. A murmur began softly as the group made their way towards the palace and grew until they realized the whole town was following them, talking excitedly. The king and queen came out to meet them. 

“Mother, Father!” cried out Rapunzel as she ran into their arms. 

“Oh Rapunzel, my dear Rapunzel, you’re alright!” 

“Jack!” 

“Mom!” After the happy reunion, the whole story was told several times, Rapunzel emphasizing the promise she had made to the bandits who were so kind to her. It was once they were finally all sitting down at the dining table that Jack let out a yelp. 

“Rapunzel! Your hair! It’s, it’s brown again!” 

Rapunzel looked at her hair. He was right! She gasped when she looked at him. “So is yours!” 

The Sun Prince chuckled as he set the flower on the table. Everyone gasped as it bloomed. “If your majesties permit, I would like to present you with a drop of the sun. If any other threat should arise, this flower should protect you. If it can’t, it will allow you to contact me and the Summer Lady for aid.” 

The Snow Queen then placed a round stone upon the table as well. “And I would like to give you this drop of the moon. Like the drop of the sun, it should protect you from most harm and grant you the ability to contact me should the need arise.” 

The king rose and bowed. “Why, why thank you! You are too kind! You have destroyed the evil witch and returned my daughter and her friend home safely. And now this? How can we ever repay you?”

The Snow Queen smiled. “Just be kind to others and help those in need.” 

“But  if these tools were ever used for ill intent, they will return immediately to us,” said the Wind Lord. The others nodded. 

“Well, then, may I persuade you to stay for a party?” said the queen. 

The Stone Lord raised his hand. “Can I help cook?” 

The queen blinked. “Oh, but . . .” 

The Sun Prince interrupted her. “Oh, you really should let him. He’s one of the best cooks around!” His friends agreed. 

The queen shrugged. “Oh, well, if you insist.” The party was a blast, everyone had a fantastic time. Later, when it was over, Rapunzel took the sun drop flower into her greenhouse and planted it at the request of her parents. When she finished planting it, she found Jack’s arms wrapped around her.

“So, I never got to reply,” began Jack, nuzzling his face in her hair. 

“Reply to what?” asked Rapunzel. 

“You told me you love me, I didn’t get a chance to reply.” 

Rapunzel turned and placed her arms around her neck. “So, what’s your reply?” 

Jack smiled. “I love you too.” With the sun drop flower glowing at their feet and the moonlight streaming through the skylight, they shared their first kiss.

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

Yvanne hadn’t meant to stay in Highever long. Only enough to get her bearings, recover, figure out where she was going to go, what she was going to do. But that first night, after she’d gone down and gotten a drink and not felt any better, she figured she may as well have another one. Then another. Then she drank until she forgot what she was drinking about, then slept til well past noon.

She woke with a splitting hangover. Almost thoughtlessly, she reached for the Fade to provide some desperately needed relief—and then remembered the cloth merchant. Fear electrified her. No, she daren’t risk it.

Without magic, she had no choice but to lay there and experience the hangover’s full wrath. It would be a novelty, if nothing else (though soon it would cease to be that, too.) Having a hangover took up most of her afternoon, after which she scrounged enough of herself up to go have her first meal of the day, which ended up being dinner. And after dinner was as good a time as any to start drinking again.

So it went.

A week passed like that, and then another, and then she was out of money. She could hardly expect to leave Highever if she had no money, so she sold one of her amulets. A Tranquil woman running a magic shop ended up giving her the best price, and the memory of her flattened voice and the vivid (recent?) sun brand on her forehead drove Yvanne to drink all the more that night. It all ended with her vomiting on the floor. The innkeeper looked ready to throw her out, but the clink of her newly-gained gold pieces discouraged any haste.

Sometimes she idly wondered about the cloth merchant who she had robbed and whose mind she had very possibly destroyed. But she rarely wondered for long. That was the thing about encounters with a spirit of Forgetting—they didn’t stick around in your mind for very long. Besides, she had more important things to worry about. The amulet had sold for a good bit more than the cloth. She figured she could afford to stay at the inn for a while, buy some supplies, and head out soon.

But weeks later half that money was gone, and she had no plan, no gear, and no will to get either. So she stayed at the inn.

She’d get out, she told herself. Just not yet. She wasn’t ready.

She missed Oghren. If he was here she would have felt better. More normal, anyway. She wondered where he was now. Probably still at the Keep, drinking himself to death without even a friend to do it with. Though she hadn’t even been a very good friend, had she? A better friend wouldn’t have let herself get dragged into the muck right alongside him. A better friend would have tried harder.

Oh, well. She’d always half-suspected that she was scum. If nothing else, it was nice to feel like she’d been right about herself.

A month later, she sold an armband to keep herself housed and watered, and no longer bothered to pretend that she had any intention of leaving. In fact, she had zero intentions at all.

It wasn’t so bad. In a lot of ways she was better off now than before. Nobody relied on her. She had no responsibilities. If she wanted to sleep all day and drink all night (which she did), nobody suffered. Best of all, when she thought about Loriel (and she thought about Loriel every couple minutes, in those early days), she didn’t feel a sick mix of dread and misery—she just felt fucking  angry. No wonder Velanna had been so fucking angry all the time, shortly after her whole life had been destroyed by her own hand. Angry was good. Angry was easy.

It was  her  fault that she was in this position.  She’d  driven her here, made their shared lives unlivable.  She  had set everything they had on fire and dared Yvanne to watch it burn,  she  had taken  everything  from her. If  she’d given so much as an inch none of this would have ever happened. If she had put in the smallest iota of effort, if she'd cared about Yvanne the tiniest little bit, they could still have been happy together.

( You couldn’t have been,  a voice inside her whispered,  and it’s your own fault for not seeing it sooner.)

How could she just not care? How could it not matter? How could she do this to them? She hated her, she  hated her—nearly as much as she still loved her.

—

She decided early on that she would be a mage no longer. She did no magic, carried no staff. The part of her that knew magic was atrophying day by day, and she was glad of it. If she never again touched the Fade, never again felt its cool waters and infinite varieties—that would be fine. Good, even. Better to be free. Better to be safe.

What had magic ever brought her but pain?

She never gave her real name. Yvanne Amell was somebody’s wife, somebody’s friend, somebody’s mentor and commander, so she would no longer be Yvanne Amell. The innkeeper who had been putting up with her presence knew her as nobody at all, and anybody else that asked got a different answer every time.

One week she met a well-off Antivan trader, rich in silks and bravado. She put her hand on his wrist and looked up with limpid eyes and spun him a tale of how her husband, a cruel and petty man who married her for her titles and seized them from her--how she had had to flee to Highever in terror of his wrath, and how she, once a noble lady, had been rendered homeless and destitute. The Antivan became so enraged at her piteous plight that he drew his sword and declared that he would not rest until he had slain the cruel and perfidious Bann himself and shortly thereafter fell asleep. She informed the innkeeper that her bill for the evening would be on him.

That was the nice thing about a port city like Highever—it never wanted for a steady stream of transient, interesting characters. After many weeks of staying at the inn, not a single face was familiar, and she was free to be somebody else.

Another week she was a Chasind exile, driven from her home because she had dared to find love outside the clan. Her lover had been a rich overland trader who plied her with fine gifts—but alas, when she left her clan to be with him he had abandoned her, and now she had nothing but her faithless lover’s presents to live on. She told this story seven times over the course of a week, each time with further embellishments, each time well enough to earn enough of her audience’s sympathy that they might purchase her a meal or another drink.

The first time someone misread her facsimile of friendliness for sexual interest and leaned in to kiss her, it took every scrap of her hard-won self control not to strike him down with lightning on the spot. She managed to only slap the young man across the face instead. It couldn’t have hurt him—she’d grown so used to augmenting her insignificant strength with magic that without it, she felt about as physically imposing as a newborn kitten—but he still drew back in shock. She hissed through her teeth that she was  not available and to get out of her sight before she made him regret it.

Later she sat and nursed a tumbler of brandy and dwelled. That wasn’t strictly true, was it? She wasn’t unavailable at all. And the young man had seemed nice enough. She didn’t particularly regret hitting him, but only because she had already decided that she wasn’t going to regret anything ever again. If she started to regret, even for a moment, she would be lost.

After that she slept with whoever seemed even halfway interested. At first mostly women, because women were familiar—and then only men, because women were familiar. With a woman she could not help but compare. With a man it meant less than nothing, an all-but-mechanical exercise of material forms. Men were easier to please, anyway; more than half the ones she took to bed were delighted that she was paying them any attention at all. She would take them to her room for an hour or less, and send them away after. She rarely let anyone spend the night, and then only ever on accident.

She felt like a teenager again, sleeping with whoever the hell she wanted, just because she could. It felt good to betray Loriel even in this little way, even though Loriel had been the one to tell her to go, even though she had no one to betray anymore.

After all, why not? All this time she had obsessively wondered,  how could it mean nothing?  Well, it was time to stop wondering. It  did mean nothing. Nothing meant anything, and she was free, free, free.

Some of them left payment for her trouble. The first time it happened she had flushed furious red and tried to explain that it wasn’t like that, she hadn’t been performing a  service— and then realized that she would have to be a complete idiot to turn down coin for something she was going to do anyway. So what if they misunderstood? Let them! She’d take their money if they were so desperate to part with it.

After a while, she started negotiating higher rates.

The innkeeper eventually put a stop to it. He informed her, none too politely, that she was free to ply her trade in the brothel, but  not at a respectable establishment like his inn, and if she did not stop at once he would throw her out. So that put an end to that. She went back to selling jewelry.

It hadn’t occurred to her that there was a brothel in Highever, although upon even a brief moment’s thought it became obvious that there had to be. She remembered the Pearl in Denerim. Back then she’d been so eagerly curious to find out what they were like inside, because she’d been so eagerly curious about everything. Loriel had found the whole thing distasteful and at the time had sarcastically asked her if she was looking for work.

Maker, but they could be horrible to each other. The rest of the night she sat and remembered every single time Loriel had been horrible to her and she’d been horrible back.

One night, in a fit of what could only be insanity, she went around to every brothel in the city until she found a working elven woman with pale skin and black hair, and afterward felt so disgusting that she couldn’t get out of bed for a week.

—

“—Amell—”

She jerked up at the mention of her discarded name. She had been slouched at the counter, sipping the last remnants of what probably passed for wine, half-asleep and struggling to stay awake. If she fell asleep the innkeeper would make her go upstairs, and she wasn’t ready for that, yet.

Her heart pounded. Who here knew her name? She looked wildly around at the source of the voice, which she didn’t think she recognized. Her eyes settled on two men she definitely didn’t know. Where they had come from was impossible to say by clothing and accent alone. Fereldans? Free Marchers?

Neither of them were looking at her. She strained to hear their conversation.

“—took up residence at the old estate,” said one.

“Feh,” said the other. “I don’t believe that cockamamie story about a Deep Roads expedition. If you ask me this upstart new Lord Amell got his money the old fashioned way—trickery, lies, or thievery.”

“Or all three.”

“Or all three!”

“Well, perhaps so. Either way I’d rather deal with this new cocksure than the last Lord Amell. Drunken idiot, that one was, bloody impossible to do business with. Kirkwall’s better off without him—assuming he’s really dead.”

“ I hear the last Lord Amell now lives in a hovel in Lowtown.”

“Maybe somebody claiming to be the old Lord Amell, alright. Anyway, even if this new Lord Amell is a lying trickster, you’re right that he can hardly be worse than old Gamlen, whatever’s happened to him.”

She kept listening a while, but the conversation soon turned to that season’s commercial fishing prospects, and they did not discuss Lord Amell again before they headed up to their rooms for the night.

They didn’t mean her, she thought. They were only talking about this Lord Amell, whoever he was. She was so relieved that she had another drink, and then really did fall asleep on the counter, and was subsequently shaken awake and sent to bed by the weary innkeeper.

Only when she was getting into her own bed did it occur to her that her family had lived in Kirkwall, once, and that the name  Lord Amell might have been more than simply a coincidence.

Over the months that followed she heard more talk of Lord Amell, usually from sailors making port out of Kirkwall. They said Lord Amell was well over six feet tall and nearly as wide, that he consorted with smugglers and thieves and Qunari, that he had a pet hawk as his constant companion. They said he was secretly an apostate, and what more locked in a torrid romance with a Rivaini pirate queen—although the accounts varied. Sometimes the torrid romance involved an escaped Tevinter slave or a Dalish blood mage. She disbelieved all these stories at once, and even began to doubt that this Lord Amell even existed. He sounded more like a tall tale or local legend than an actual person.

And even if he was real—he was hardly any business of hers. Resolutely, she went back to the important business of drinking herself to death.

—

Sometimes she did leave the inn. On these occasions she would blearily wander the city with no particular aim in sight. She would go to the docks, to the walls of Castle Cousland, to the markets, anywhere where people were. City guards and thieves and mothers with their children and slouching youths and burly dockworkers, they all streamed around her. If her dark skin and braided hair was cause for a second glance in other parts of Ferelden, not so in the port city of Highever.

This was what it meant to be part of the world. Total anonymity. Total aloneness. Total perfection.

On one of these sojourns she found herself walking past the gates of the alienage. Loriel was from Highever, she suddenly remembered. She’d been born in the alienage here. Were her parents still here?

She laughed to herself. What if she found them?  Do you know where your daughter is?  she would ask them.  Do you know what she’s been up to? Do you even care? She found herself looking intently at every person she saw, looking for older elves with narrow eyes and dark hair, but nobody looked like a decent match.

Highever wasn’t so far from Vigil’s Keep. Loriel could have come here and looked for her parents any time she wanted. But she’d never even cared to try. She’d given up on them, too.

Suddenly she was furious at her all over again

She wondered if her own father knew or cared that she was still alive. If  he was even still alive; the man she remembered had been so sapped of all vitality that it would not surprise her if the loss of yet another daughter destroyed him completely. When she had been a child she had hated him for abandoning her in Kinloch. She’d been so furious at him for so long that she’d entirely forgotten to think of him, burying all memory of him beneath an avalanche of bitter hatred. It was only now occurring to her that her father had loved her.

She wondered where her sisters were now. They hadn’t been close. They fought over toys and food and their father’s attention, hit and pinched and slapped each other, screamed and shouted and ruined dinner. Suddenly she missed them so much it felt like a physical ache, though she had not thought of them in years. She wondered who they had grown up to be.

At least her oldest sister was probably in a Circle now. When she had been discovered a mage, her mother had been so grief-stricken that she begged the Templars for mercy on her knees, right in the city streets—and her a noble lady. It was quite the scandal, and a bigger scandal yet when Revka Amell disappeared to parts unknown soon after. That was all she knew; she remember little of it, and anytime she’d asked for more, her father would look pained and drawn and refuse to speak more on it.

For a long time, anytime her father was less than what she’d wanted, when he was distant or sad or busy and seemed to look through and not at her, her mother had been the imagined Good Parent. Her mother, who always sided with her and let her do what she wanted, who never hit her or ignored her or let her be hurt. She would spend hours in this fantasy, supposing that someday her mother would come and take her away to wherever she’d gone off to, and she would finally have the life she’d always meant to have.

Unlike her father, though, her mother had abandoned her willingly.

She didn’t remember how old she had been when she’d stopped having that fantasy.

Somebody bumped into her; an elven woman balancing a basket of mangos on her head. She realized she’d just been standing blank-faced in the middle of an alienage for several minutes now. Then she noticed all the dirty looks she was attracting from the alienage elves, wondering what some strange shem woman was doing here.

Fuck this, she thought, heading back to the inn. And fuck all this futile wondering about her family. Even if she wanted to find them she would spend a lifetime searching. One way or another, they were lost to her for good.

—

She didn’t generally let her disposable lovers stay in her bed for long. Sleeping next to someone and feeling their warmth disgusted her. That she’d let this one stay had been pure accident; she’d just gotten too drunk, and fallen asleep practically halfway through.

When she woke again to the late-afternoon light seeping into her room, she found that she had been robbed. All her jewelry; that was most of what she owned, all of it valuable. Her traitorous temporary lover would be hours away by now, carrying her rings, her bracelets, her armbands, her necklaces and amulets, even the little decorations she wore in her hair. That was everything she could have hoped to live on. She had less now than she’d even fled the Vigil with.

She sat on the bed with her legs tucked underneath her like a child. She felt like the biggest fool to ever walk the earth. But if she were honest with herself—with how careless she was being—it was a wonder this hadn’t happened earlier.

Laughter bubbled up from her chest and into her throat, until she had to let it out or else choke on it. She put her head in her hands and laughed until she couldn’t breathe, until she gasped for breath and blackness ate at the edges of her vision.

Something glinted on her hand, drawing her attention to it. Her wedding ring. She had grown so used to its presence on her finger, her plainest piece, the one she never removed or swapped out for anything different. That was it. That was all that was left.

Her head throbbed, but she didn’t dare use magic to fix it. She badly wanted a drink, to take the edge off, but she had no money, and there wouldn’t be enough men at the inn to cajole into supplying her until later this evening.

Suddenly she couldn’t stand to sit here. She needed to go outside and feel the sunlight before evening fell—and the markets closed.

The late summer air was heavy like soup. She felt herself floating through the streets as though not under her own power. She was sober, painfully sober, but nothing felt real, anyway. She watched people hurrying to and fro, going about their comfortable lives, totally ignorant of her plight. Totally indifferent to the slow and now sudden dissolution of her entire life.

Having only one possible recourse, she went to the shop of the Tranquil woman who had always given her the best prices for her jewelry. But then she lingered outside the door.

Her wedding ring gleamed dully as she pulled it from her finger. The simple band was worn smooth from her thumb constantly swiping across it; she must have rubbed it a thousand times over the past several months. She hadn’t taken it off since she’d put it on, years ago. Until now.

What a stupid, impulsive thing it had been, the way they’d gotten engaged ( Loriel gilded in moonlight, the most beautiful woman in the world—)  What a stupid excuse of a ceremony their wedding had been (Loriel breathlessly promising—) What a joke it had been. They'd vaguely planned on a real ceremony someday, and now that day would never come. A trivial pathetic excuse of a wedding, for a trivial pathetic excuse of a relationship, one built on nothing but mutual parasitism, on nothing but fear, on nothing. What a stupid, pointless, empty  (Loriel flushed and laughing, being spun around wildly as they danced, happy—) thing it had been. It made her sick with rage to think of it.

She went inside the shop and sold the ring.

—

The sun was setting by the time she left the shop, her hand bare, her pocket heavy with a little purse of coins. The markets were already closing; there wasn’t really anything left for her to do except go back to the inn.

Except she knew that if she did that, she’d get herself a drink. And because she’d only woken up a few hours ago, she’d keep getting herself drinks. And by the next day she might easily burn through a significant portion of the last few coins she had to her name.

So instead she wandered the city. As long as she kept putting one foot in front of the other—she would be alright.

Only she wouldn’t be. She had nothing to live on, no skills to peddle. Nobody was hiring mages, nor castle administrators. And who would want a willowy female soldier who needed magic to wield a blade at all effectively? She didn't know how to weave or spin or farm or smith; outside the walls she had ensconced herself in, she was useless.

What was she going to do?  What was she going to do?

The sun had fully set by now. Her feet hurt; the shoes she’d bought to replace her ruined pair were cheap and unlikely to last long. Once she’d walked across all of Ferelden, but she’d had good leather boots to do it in. Those were boots that would have lasted a lifetime, and they were back at Vigil's Keep. She wouldn’t be seeing those again.

She could not stop looking at her left hand, bare for the first time in years. It felt perversely light without her. ( Nothing. It had meant nothing .)

A red lantern glowed at the end of the street, and she realized where she was—the brothel. It was called the Lady’s Grace, an awfully pretty name for a place with such sticky floors. After the one time she’d paid it a visit, she had avoided this part of town, acid shame in the pit of her stomach anytime she strayed too near.

But now the glowing red light was as a lighthouse to a storm-tossed ship. There! She could go there—and beg for a place. Girls in these places were well-provided for—food, shelter, enough money to keep drinking. The work would be easy—it was just  sex.  And unlike the others, if she caught something, or fell pregnant, that was an easy fix. She had abandoned magic, but magic wasn’t something you could forget—she would keep it secret, use it only when necessary. Yes, she could do that.

Eagerly, she reached for the handle of the front door, bathed in the red light—and hesitated.

Was she really going to do this?

She could easily imagine it. She would disappear into the Lady’s Grace, and come out only rarely if at all. There she would be comfortable as she wiled away the years, and slowly in the perfumes and the pillows, she would forget. Someday she would be old, and still she would stay, be the madame. She’d run a castle, once, an army. How hard could a brothel be? It wouldn’t be so bad a life. At least she’d have a more comfortable bed.

But still she hesitated.

She looked at her bare hand again.

Yvanne Amell had been somebody’s wife, so it had been intolerably painful for her to be Yvanne Amell. Better by an ale-soaked gutter rat than be Yvanne Amell. But now Yvanne Amell wasn’t anybody’s wife. The only proof that she’d ever been anybody's wife was gone now.

Perhaps it was time to start being Yvanne Amell again.

She thought of all these rumors she had heard of Lord Amell of Kirkwall. If this Lord Amell was real...if he wasn’t a pretender...he might well be her cousin. Her father, her mother, her sisters, all of them were beyond her reach. Not so her maybe-cousin.

Drawing back from the brothel door, she headed to the docks. Her fingers closed around her last few coins. Would it be enough for passage? Perhaps not—perhaps she would have to beg, or steal, but either way, her mind was made up.

Yvanne would make for Kirkwall.

[blkmxrvel]

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (28) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: After 3 long years.... I'm finishing the conversion of this story. You have my rewatching of Supergirl to thank ;). Going back over this story i realized there are a LOT of conversion I missed/messed up so im going to go back over everything and fix it all for good. Enjoy!

[previous] | [masterlist]

“Stop peeking, everybody’s out there already. You don’t need to worry that your audience is lacking.”

Kara glanced back from the door and grinned at Alex. “Actually, I was looking at two specific members of the audience.” She pointed as subtly as possible, and Alex peered out over her shoulder.

“Who’s a good little baby?” they could hear Maggie saying as she cuddled the tiny girl to her chest. “Who’s a brave baby Maya? You are, yes, you are!”

“Hey, can I have my kid back?”

“In a minute,” Kara and Alex heard her say as she tickled the booties-clad feet of Sam and Lena’s daughter. She giggled and kicked, adorable in pink gingham, all wide brown eyes and with brown hair that Maggie had subtly shaped into a Mohawk.

Born a month early, Maya Penelope Arias had had a rough time at first, but now she was the spoiled apple of her mommies’ eyes. She had Sam’s last name, since Sam had given birth, but Lena was by law given all rights to Maya as her second mother.

“And she got to give her a weird-ass middle name,” Sam had pointed out.

“Sam, dear, you’re going to give her a complex,” Lena had said with a smile, her pinky held in the tight grip of her little girl.

“You’re so precious, you are,” Maggie cooed, looking nothing like the trouble-making, drug-addicted street rat that she had been only a few years earlier.

“Ohhh, boy,” Alex breathed softly, “I can see where this is going.” But she was smiling, and Kara nudged her, grinning.

“Yeah, you’d think she’s precious until she’s using you as a milk machine,” Sam said, but her tone was affectionate as she smoothed down Maya’s hair. “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to kneel in the corner with a baby attached to your boob?”

“She’s still amazing,” Maggie said, pretending to chew on Maya’s fingers now firmly in her mouth, then rolled her eyes at Lena as she extricated the baby’s hand and cleaned it with a wipe. “Aren’t you, monkeyface? Your mommies did a good job.”

“So did the Cryobank,” Sam said, tucking the baby into her arms as Maggie finally relinquished her. “They had a good choice of frozen swimmers.”

“Oh, hey, Brainy donates there!” Maggie exclaimed, and Kara pressed her face to her palm as Lena let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a strangled sob.

“I swear to God if he's my baby’s daddy I’m going to kill you.”

Kara snapped the door shut and shook her head, smiling at Alex and smoothing down the front of her dress where it had gotten wrinkled.

It had been six months.

Six months since Y/N had looked over at her with her heart on her sleeve, fear and longing in those deep hazel eyes that Kara realized she always wanted to be looking at her. Kara smiled, remembering what Y/N had said to her.

“I look at you and home is all I see.”

The tears had rushed to her eyes but Kara controlled herself to speak quietly, firmly.

“If I hadn’t been so interrupted,” she said, the smile still on her lips, “You would have heard me say that all I want is to be with you, in New York.” Her smile grew wider at Y/N’s gasp, and Kara reached out to pull the girl into her arms.

“My little one,” she said, kissing Y/N. “I am so proud of you, even for – especially for interrupting me.” She trailed her thumbs over Y/N’s face, wiping away the tears, and kissed her again. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Everything you are and everything you’ll ever be. I love you.”

Still, she’d insisted on waiting, because as firm as Y/N was in wanting to be claimed, Kara for her part wanted to be sure.  Y/N had moved out of Nia’s and into her own small little apartment in town, though she spent more of her time at Kara’s than anywhere else. But it had been amusing for Kara, to watch as Y/N slowly blossomed into her own, decorating the apartment with her personal touches even as she would smile at Kara and cheekily say, “I don’t plan on living here long, you know.”

“I know,” Kara would say with her own soft smile, and press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I know.”

She watched as Y/N grew in confidence with each passing day, going to places by herself or with friends – and that made Kara smile the most, the fact that Y/N had friends. True, they were mostly those in Kara’s own circle, with the exception of Kelly, and she was still exasperated about the fact that Sam seemed to revel in teaching Y/N to push all of Kara’s buttons. But it was good to see Y/N going out and having fun, whether it was to a restaurant or bookstore, or even one of Maggie’s clubs.

At first it made Kara worry, Y/N being out on her own, especially those nights that Y/N chose to spend at her apartment rather than Kara’s house. Those nights, Kara would sleep with her phone clutched tightly in her hand, just in case Y/N needed to call. Was she warm enough? Kara wondered. Had she eaten enough, was she getting enough rest, was her bed as soft as the one she had at Kara’s? But every morning without fail – as per the rules if Y/N wasn’t staying over – the phone would ring at 8 a.m. and Kara would answer it, smiling to hear Y/N’s gentle voice on the other end.

“I slept just fine, Miss Kara, don’t worry.”

And really, it didn’t matter if Y/N wanted to spend 5 out of the 7 nights at her own apartment, or stayed out until 2 in the morning with Maggie, or walked the mall for hours with Kelly – which she didn’t. For Kara, what mattered were the two pieces of paper held with magnets to the refrigerator door. Plain white sheets with pink and purple and green ink and littered with gold stars.

Y/N’s rules. Kara’s rules. The list they had drawn up together, the list that was growing steadily as they experimented, as they learned. Things were being added, scratched off, put into the “maybe” and “no way ever again” columns. It was a slow road, Kara was realizing, and as comfortable as she and Y/N were with each other so far, there still had been a few missteps, one safe word that had resulted in Kara spending the entire night on the couch with Y/N held, safe and sleeping, in her arms.

They hadn’t been fully intimate yet; Y/N had asked to wait until the actual night of the claiming, saying that she wanted it to be more special. But Kara could see past what Y/N said to what she couldn’t give voice to, to the undercurrent of fear and hint of darkness in Y/E/C eyes that should always be bright with happiness. It hurt her, at first, knowing that Y/N was still afraid to give herself fully to Kara, but as always, a quick chat with Lena had been enough to help Kara regain her perspective.

“You’re surprised that she’s scared?” Lena said over her shoulder as she hung yet another picture of herself and Sam on the wall. “After everything she’s been through?”

“Well, no, I just… thought I’d be different,” Kara admitted. “She says I’m not like him, but it’s as if she expects me to be like him in bed.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Lena had said, sitting next to Kara on the couch and brushing her forehead with a kiss. “You know you’re different. She knows you’re different. But this is the last… thing, the last hold he has over her. He owned every part of her, especially her body. She wants you to claim her, but she’s scared to claim that part of herself.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Kara had muttered, and Lena smiled.

“The act doesn’t matter,” she’d said. “As long as it’s gentle, careful, sweet. What matters is that she knows how much you love her. Concentrate more on the emotion than the physical, and you can’t go wrong.”

As for Kara, her dads had insisted on giving her enough money to get by for the six months until her relationship with Y/N was set, and the rest of their plans could be put into motion. Kara had protested, but she knew her dads still felt some measure of guilt for keeping her away from New York so long, and so Y/N had encouraged her just to take it, especially since it was too dangerous to head off to the city with no money in the bank.

They would fly out to New York for a weekend to find an apartment, then fly back and Kara’s dads would help them pack the essentials for the long drive, and ship the rest later. Kara was excited – and terrified. But a soft touch from Y/N on her cheek, and everything was fine. All her fears vanished, and Kara felt as if, with the young woman by her side, she’d already won a Tony.

“I’m that good?” Y/N had joked when Kara had said that, her tongue stuck out, and Kara had just rolled her eyes, cuddling her brat close on her lap.

“Ready?” Alex said from Kara’s shoulder, and she turned around to rest her head against her chest, the woman wrapping heris arms around her with a smile. They’d repaired their friendship after the trial; in fact now it was stronger than ever, and Kara wouldn’t have even thought twice about having Alex in the front row, along with her other family and friends.

Y/N’s parents weren’t there, which was to be expected since Y/N had steadfastly refused to invite them. Kara had asked, carefully, but Y/N was vehement to the point of tears about not wanting her parents anywhere near herself and Kara. Kelly was there, though, along with the young man Y/N had heard so much about, Mike, and Nia, who had already gone through one pack of tissues and was starting on another.

“Go on,” Alex said quietly, pushing Kara lightly towards the door that led to outside, and the little circle in front of the seats.

“Go claim your girl.”

It was a simple white sheet laid out on the grass, and a lattice arch laced with green leaves and gardenias. Just to the side of the arch was a table draped with a lace cloth, upon which rested two boxes, one smaller, one larger. The larger box held Kara’s gift to Y/N, the smaller, Y/N’s gift to Kara. They were like two children at Christmas in the days leading up to the ceremony, knowing exactly what the gifts would be but not what they would be made of.

Both of them, though, knew the meaning of what was held in those two boxes.

In between the boxes was a single sheet of paper, with two pens on top. The paper was official, with the state seal emblazoned on the upper margin, and the bottom margin held the stiff, black scrawl of the woman officiating the ceremony, Caitlin Snow.

She stood just to Kara’s left, smiling at her, waiting. Two blank lines on the paper also waited, for signatures. Pledges.

Kara took a deep breath and once again smoothed her dress. Light baby blue, and her hair was pulled up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The day was calm, cool, and the sun had begun to set just off the horizon. It was perfect, made all the more perfect by the trembling girl who shut the door behind her and made her way to the sheet, stopping to stand in front of Kara with a nervous smile.

Kara reached out and took both Y/N’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“All right, little one?” she questioned, and Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushing pink.

“I’m all right, Miss Kara.”

“You’re beautiful,” Kara said, still holding tightly to Y/N’s hands, and it was true. Y/N was wearing a (color)  dress that matched her eyes, which were sparkling as she smiled at Kara, the blush still evident on her fact. She was still trembling and Kara squeezed her hands again, taking in the way Y/N’s Y/H/C hair was twisted up in braids, loose tendrils falling around her cheeks and ears.

She was, Kara thought, the prettiest girl she’d ever seen in her life.

And in just a few short moments, Y/N would be completely hers.

“Are we ready to get started?” Ms. Snow asked, and both Kara and Y/N nodded their consent.

“Kara and Y/N,” Ms. Snow began, “have decided to keep this short and sweet, because I’m gathering they’re quite eager to start their life together and enjoy the support of their family and friends here.”

“This isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Ms. Snow continued, a note of warning to her voice that gave her a sudden formidable air in spite of her small frame. “A claim is meant to be for life, two people choosing to live their life together as Dominant and submissive, with all the care and emotion that a relationship like that means.”

Ms. Snow looked to Kara, then to Y/N in turn. “Have each of you decided to pledge yourself to the other, freely and willingly, with no pressure or force from family or friends?”

Kara waited for what felt like years, a lifetime as the days and moments flashed behind her eyes. First steps, first words, first competition at a year old. School and slushies, her dad knelt by a hospital bedside. A ticket to New York, tucked away in a scrapbook, yellowed and crumbling, unused. Work and the society, a brick building at the end of a walk.

A girl with dirty hair. Two slices of apple resting on the arm of a wheelchair.

The world was silent, still, until the wind picked up and trees rustled, and it was in the wind, this gentle wind, that Kara heard the answer that would define her life from this point forward.

Y/N’s voice was calm, resolute.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” was Kara’s return, and she felt Y/N’s hands squeeze hers because she had begun to tremble, and for a brief moment Kara once again realized that there was no shifting of balance, no changing of roles, because the comforter didn’t have to be left uncomforted, there was a control in subservience, and even as she waited to kneel, Y/N was holding Kara up.

“Y/N and Kara have decided to make their own presentations to each other rather than following the usual claiming ceremony,” Ms. Snow said, “And Kara has promised not to use a lot of words.”

Their friends and family laughed; Kara rolled her eyes when Maggie let out a whoop from the front row only to be shushed by Alex.

“Y/N?” Ms. Snow asked gently. “Are you ready?”

Kara saw the subtle intake of breath, felt the trembling return to Y/N’s body, and her impulse, even as Y/N let go of her hands, was to pull the young woman into her arms and whisper comfort into her ears. But she held back, because Y/N was removing the thin bracelet from Kara’s right wrist and handing it to Ms. Snow, exchanging it for the bracelet that had, for the last three days, rested in the small royal blue box.

A pillow now sat at Kara’s feet, waiting for the moment when the collar would be placed around Y/N’s neck. But for now Kara was distracted by the shaking of Y/N’s hands, the fumbling of her fingers around the bracelet, which slipped out of her grasp and tumbled to the sheet on the grass.

“O-oh no,” Y/N said as she knelt down on the pillow and picked up the bracelet, her voice laced with embarrassment and regret. “I messed up, I’m s-sorry…”

Ms. Snow moved to say something, but Kara held up her hand, then reached down and tucked it under Y/N’s chin, stroking the skin with her thumb and lifting the girl’s head so that Y/N was looking up at her. Y/N’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and Kara’s heart melted.

“Easy, little one,” she said. “You’re doing just fine, Y/N. It’s okay, you’re all right.”

Y/N hesitated for a few seconds then took a deep breath and nodded, steadying herself. She stayed kneeling on the pillow as Kara dropped her hand; Y/N looked at the bracelet then raised it to her lips, kissing it before latching it securely to Kara’s left wrist and holding on to Kara’s hand with both of hers.

It was a bird, Kara saw, and she smiled through her tears, marveling at how appropriate it was. A single silver bird in an open circle, held flat against the back of Kara’s wrist with a silver band. Kelly and Sam had gone with Y/N to help her, but she’d picked it out herself, Sam had told Kara, and it gave Kara no small amount of pride that her girl had chosen something specifically for her, something that she would wear for the rest of her life.

Y/N dipped her head and kissed Kara’s hand, nuzzling it as she began to speak.

“I love you, Mistress,” Y/N said, and Kara had to fight back the sob. “You… you know I like drawing birds a lot, and I thought this was the best thing for me to give you. Because when you found me… I was like a wounded bird, you know? Tossed out of the nest and I’d forgotten how to fly. And you… you gave me my wings. But no matter where I go, I promise, Mistress, I’ll always fly back to you.”

She was crying then, openly, barely able to see Y/N but holding on to her hands for dear life, anchoring herself with Y/N’s words. With that one specific word.

Mistress.

“A lot of stuff has happened to me, but it’s in the past now. I want to… let go of my past and start my future. Our future. Together.”

 “I know I’ll make mistakes,” Y/N said, once again kissing Kara’s hand. “And I know you will too, even though it’ll be hard for you to admit it, because you hate being wrong.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as Y/N stuck her tongue out. Her little brat, Kara thought. God she loved this woman.

“But I promise that no matter what happens, no matter what mistakes we make, I’ll do my best to fix it. I’m always going to be there for you, I’m always going to try to be your best little one—“

“My only little one,” Kara interrupted with a chuckle, and Y/N smiled.

“Not done talking,” she said, and Kara nodded. “I’m always going to try to be the little one you need, the little one you deserve. Because I love you, Mistress. I love you so much.”

And then as Y/N fell silent, Kara knew all attention had turned to her, and the pink satin box that Caitlin Snow had opened and held out to her.

Y/N had asked for Kara to not to give her anything silver, as it was too reminiscent of the time she’d spent with James. And so the collar was gold; thin, strong links of chain meant to be held together at the ends with a lock, and Y/N smiled seeing it, because the lock was a thick gold star of about an inch, the keyhole in the center.  Still tucked in the box was the key, a dainty little antique with an open gold star on the end.  She would carry it with her everywhere, Kara knew, and hope that the only time the key would need to unlock Y/N’s collar was when the girl showered.

The lock was unlatched, and so Kara pulled it from the collar and draped the chain around Y/N’s neck, the two ends dangling open over her shoulders. Kara smiled at her reassuringly, seeing Y/N shiver slightly, and she lightly brushed her hand over Y/N’s face.

 “I at first thought I would sing to you a song expressing my emotions,” she said, and then grinned. “But for once I decided to save everyone the melodrama and just… tell you.”

“I love you, my little one,” she said, and meant it to the very core of her heart. “This collar has a gold star lock on it because, well… you know gold stars are my thing, but also, you’re my gold star, Y/N. Shining bright and beautiful every time I look at you. And no matter what happens, no matter if you’re obedient or naughty, happy or sad, I promise to always love you. Everything that you’ve been, everything that you are, everything that you will be. For the rest of my life, I love you, Y/N Zor-El-Y/L/N.”

She slipped the lock through the ends of the collar and moved to latch it, but was stopped by Y/N’s hands on hers.

Kara’s heart plummeted. Was Y/N rethinking everything? Had she decided at the last minute that she couldn’t do this, that Kara wasn’t the one, that maybe there would be someone better for her out there? She opened her mouth to say something but for once the words wouldn’t come.

Which was a good thing, because Y/N’s hands folded around hers, their fingers linked awkwardly, and Kara realized with a choked sob that Y/N’s intent was for them to close the lock around her collar together.

It latched with a click, there was light applause from the family – and another whoop from Maggie – and it was done.

Kara Zor-El had claimed Y/N Y/L/N as her own.

Jeremiah appeared at Kara’s side long enough to take the key for safekeeping until the day was over, and then Kara was reaching down and lifting her submissive – her little one, her girl, her Y/N – to her feet.

She wrapped her arms around Y/N and held her close, then tilted back and lightly kissed Y/N’s lips, laughing through her tears.

“I love you,” Kara said again, glancing down at her bracelet, and smiling when she saw Y/N toying with the lock around her neck, an expression of happy wonder on her face.

“This is so beautiful,” she whispered, before kissing Kara again. “I love you, Mistress.”

Kara didn’t think she’d ever tire of hearing Y/N say those words to her, and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask Y/N to say them again when Miss Snow interrupted once more.

“Only one thing left to do then,” and Kara nodded, realizing that this was the most important part.

She took Y/N’s hand and turned her to face the table upon which the contract rested. Kara didn’t really care for the term “contract,” but knew that technically the wording couldn’t be changed. “It’s a promise,” she had explained to Y/N. “A promise that I’m going to take care of you to the best of my ability, and that you’ll do the same for me.”

Indeed, the contract laid out Kara and Y/N’s rules in simple, black script, presented coldly, almost medically, with no indication of the emotions and troubles that had led up to that point. But though Kara knew that it was just a piece of paper, and that what really bound Y/N to her was her heart, and the gold star collar around her neck, a part of her still tensed when Y/N hesitated, the pen in her hand poised over the page.

But then Y/N signed with a steady stroke, Kara took a deep breath and did the same, and Caitlin Snow was beaming as she said ���Ladies and gentlemen, Kara and Y/N Zor-El-Y/L/N!”

Finally it was time for hugs from everyone, including sloppy kisses from baby Maya and an excited bark from Theo, who looked dapper in the green and white bowtie Kara insisted he wear. The chairs were moved back to make room for tables, the food was brought out and soon it was apparent, as Y/N and Kara shared a slow dance together, that Miss Snow had dipped into the wine and was now walking around telling everyone they’d look much better in green.

Y/N stayed close to her as a few hours went by, and Kara kept her arm firmly around her little one’s waist while they walked around and accepted everyone’s well-wishes. The moon was high in the sky when Kara decided that it was time to excuse herself and Y/N from the festivities. The night wasn’t over yet, and she wanted to be alone with her girl.

“Ready?” she asked Y/N softly, tilting up to brush her lips with a kiss.

She caught the hesitation, the swallow, before Y/N nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

Kara squeezed her hand and turned to her father, who had walked up to her and Y/N and was now offering the key to Y/N’s collar to his daughter.

“Be gentle,” he said in a low voice to Kara as they were standing off to the side. “Be gentle, and be patient, and—“

“No, stop.” Kara held up her hand and made a face. “You are the last person I want to give me tips about anything like that.” She smiled and hugged her father. “I’ve got it, I promise.”

The applause of their family and friends – and yet another whoop from Maggie – echoed in her ears as Kara led Y/N away from them and to her car. She giggled a little when Y/N rushed around to the driver’s side to open her door, only to stand there sheepishly when Kara had to unlock it. Kara pulled her into her arms for a kiss, then got behind the wheel as Y/N took her place next to her.

The young woman stared nervously out the window, and Kara held tight to her hand, as with her other, she steered the car, and her submissive, towards home.

[next]

[paradisobound]

They’ll Tear Us Apart (If You Give Them the Chance)

Summary: Dan was just a fairy in his little village of Vixedeler when a mermaid invades the waters and sends the village into a frenzy. A thousand year old rivalry is resurfaced and Dan is left in the middle of his village while also feeding his new connection with the mermaid, Phil. As tensions rise, and Dan falls deeply for Phil, a Romeo and Juliet love story begins. 

Warnings: Mentions of violence and conflict (but not explicitly) 

Word Count: 7.3k

This is a Romeo and Juliet au centered around fairy!Dan and mermaid!Phil (but don’t worry! No one dies at the end!) 

**Link to the Art** | **Link to Ao3**

Written for the 2019 @phandomreversebang! 

Thank you so much to my lovely artist @lovelydeps! It was so much fun working with you and getting your idea for your art and bringing it to life! And your art blew me away! And thanks to my beta’s @partlycharlie and @stockholm-13-syndrome who both looked over the fic for me! And special thanks to @flymetomanchester and @phloridas for being the best cheerleaders whenever it comes to any of my fics! You’re the best :) 

The wind whistled through the air as Dan walks slowly through the forest on his way back to his cottage. His hands are full of the fruits and berries he had picked up on his way back.

His feet crinkle a bit in the leaves, but his near weightless body doesn’t really make a sound as he walks. He hums to himself, looking around at all of the trees and little critters around him. A squirrel to his right. A bunny to his left. They never bother him so he never bother them.

Dan figures he could use his wings and fly by to his little cottage, but that takes energy and to be quite honest, Dan’s a bit lazy. Not to mention, he had a run in with a bumble bee a few days ago and he isn’t trying to collide with another one of those fuzzy fellas any time soon.

Dan lives in a quiet little village called Vixedalar, which resides just outside the forest. They share a border with another little village called Estemopia, but they often don’t interact. Dan’s village is very quiet and often isn’t bothered and Dan quite likes that.

He prefers to be alone, sitting in his cottage, sipping Grassroot tea and consuming his berries. Well, he prefers to be alone when he’s not with his friend Lilibeth, but she is often busy in her garden or messing with the mortals in the overlands. Lilibeth likes to change out their babies; although Dan doesn’t like her mischievous actions, he does sometimes laugh at the stories she tells.

His village is near water, which is uncommon for his kind. Dan learnt when he was first taken to the water by his guardians as a youngling - they warned him to never go near it or in it. However, many people in his village fish, which used to leave Dan scratching his head in confusion.

Dan has to pass the water every time he goes back to his cottage from foraging for berries and fruit. He often finds himself staring out at it, as if it’s calling to him, but he never goes to it. He reminds himself of his warnings and just moves on with his time, happily humming and skipping a bit as his wings get excited and he hovers a bit over the ground.

This afternoon is no different. Dan is walking by the water and looking at it from a distance. He lets out a sigh and finds himself smiling. Maybe one day, maybe he’ll cave and go to the water.

Dan is about to turn his head and look back to where he is walking when he sees an odd ruffle in the water. His heart skips a beat and he lets out a loud gasp. What was that in the water? He narrows his eyes a bit and floats up, his wings holding him, and he looks over the water.

The water doesn’t move again, but that doesn’t mean Dan isn’t still curious about what it was. His heart is racing a bit and his wings are beginning to strain. He quickly shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath as his body lessens in size and he flies through the trees as fast he can back to his cottage.

Dan can admit that he’s never been the most graceful with his landings when he goes back to being full bodied, but he certainly tries. This time, he loses a few berries and an apple and huffs in annoyance.

“Never been the most graceful, have you, Dan?”

Dan snickers and turns to his friend Lilibeth. She’s stood in front of her cottage across from his own. Her light colored hair is flowing a bit in the wind, and she has some stray pieces tucked behind her ears. Her wings are looking as beautiful as ever, a bright azure blue with swirls that are unlike anything Dan had ever seen.

When Dan had first seen Lilibeth, he quickly realized how pretty she was, but as they grew up, he realized she was a close friend, not someone he wanted to raise his future family with.

“Never have been and never will be,” Dan says with a chuckle.

Lilibeth waves him off and turns around, wiping her palms on her cloth pants and walking back to the flower garden in the front of her cottage. Dan always envied how well she could grow flowers. He doesn’t do well with that. He’s good at making cures and teas. He’s not good at other things.

Dan cuddles his fruit and berries closer to his chest as he walks up to his cottage door and steps inside. Dan walks over to his table and sets down his food on the wooden surface.

He walks to his tiny little leaf basin of water and rinses off his hands before he grabs a small blade and a wooden bowl and walks back over to his table. He grabs each fruit piece by piece and begins to cut them smaller.

As his blade cuts through each piece, he begins to think more and more about the water. What did he see in the water? It wasn’t a fish - the fish aren’t very big in the water. It had to be something different.

His blade suddenly stops mid-cut and his heart beats fast. Was it a mermaid? He’s only heard of them in stories from his guardians and the whispers around the village.

But surely, a mermaid wouldn’t dare to actually come back into their little village, would it?

Dan shakes his head and lets his hair fall into his eyes a bit before he tucks the stray bit behind his ear. He’ll talk to Lilibeth about what he saw later.

***

Dan visits Lilibeth in her garden a little while later. His berries and fruit were all cut and he even brought a small wooden bowl for Lilibeth to have as well. He walks up behind her and she stands up, turning around and smiling at him.

“Found some good fruit?” she asks and Dan nods. “Let’s bring them inside.”

Dan follows her into her cottage and sits down beside her at her small table. Lilibeth’s cottage is a lot smaller than Dan’s but Dan finds it cozier. His sometimes seems empty when he doesn’t have company.

Lilibeth picks out a fresh berry from the bowl and takes a bite of it. “How did foraging go?”

“It went well,” he says. “Didn’t have to look long before I came about a really good amount of berries.”

“Good!” Lilibeth smiles. “I was speaking with Merrybeth and she mentioned that berries were becoming scarce. She said we might have to rely more on fish soon.”

Dan makes a face. He isn’t nearly as much of a fan of fish as he is other foods; he much prefers fruit over meat. “I’m not fond of that idea.”

“Nor I,” she says.

Dan picks up a berry from the bowl and eats it. He watches Lilibeth reach for one too, and then remembers how she mentioned water. He should mention to her what he saw.

“I saw something in the water,” Dan says.

“In the water?” Lilibeth asks.

Dan nods.

“Yes, I believe it might be a…”

“… a mermaid?” she says, her eyes widening. “Are you sure that is what you saw?”

“I’m not that sure,” Dan admits. “But it was odd.”

“Mermaids aren’t supposed to be able to come into our village,” she says, as if that’s not something Dan already knows.

Dan knows the lore about the mermaids. His kind, the fairies, and the mermaids have been in a war for over 1000 years. They never interact nor do they like each other. Normally when a mermaid comes around, the villagers run them out or threaten worse.

Dan’s guardian used  to tell him when he was a child that it was because of a mistake between fairies and mermaids. The fairies were always mischievous and Dan knew that because of Lilibeth and his follow villagers. But one year, way back in the earlier days, a fairy mistakenly took the baby of a mermaid, thinking it was a mortal being. The mermaids found out and sought out the fairy and killed them. It was a sad day in the neighboring village that still thrives at the thought of the fairy who lost their life.

“Are you sure?” Lilibeth asked again. “It’s a bit foolish to claim there is a mermaid and there are none.”

“I’m aware.” Dan says. “I think that is what it was but…”

“Let us go to the water and see.” Lilibeth interrupted, standing up from her stool and extending her hand out.

Dan grabbed onto her hand and pulled himself up. She began to drag him to the door and Dan laughed a bit as her strength yanked him outside of the cottage and dragged him a bit down the pathway towards the forest.

Lilibeth shut her eyes and shrunk down and Dan followed and shrunk down, flying beside her. They zipped through the forest, between the trees and past all of the insect that shared the air with them.

Dan loved flying with Lilibeth. Sometimes he liked flying alone but other days, he’s glad that he has such a good friend like Lilibeth to play around with. He never had many friends as a child but Lilibeth was always there for him.

They flew around for a while until Dan began to feel the telltale signs of exhaustion in his wings and he motioned for Lilibeth that he was going to land. Lilibeth landed next to him and they took a second to catch their breath.

They were both still laughing at their antics when Dan remembered what they were doing in the forest. They were supposed to be going to the water. He looked around to gather his bearings. To his right, he caught sight of the water in the distance and he and Lilibeth began to walk closer to it.

They were almost to the clearing and the water when Dan noticed a ripple in the water again. His breath caught in his throat and his hand came up, instinctively to his chest in surprise. He turned to Lilibeth and her green eyes were staring wide towards the water.

“Did you see that?” She asked, her finger coming out in front of her to point towards the ripple.

Dan nodded.

He continued watching the water for a few more moments before he saw it…a dark blue tail came out of the water and splashed back through the crest, creating a soft splash in its wake.

Dan gasped and Lilibeth made an unsettling noise. They turned to each other and both immediately took off and flew as fast as they could back to their village. They needed to warn the others.

As soon as they land, Lilibeth runs down the pathway to the village center where there is a bustle of other fairies roaming about, bartering their food and selling their fish.

Lilibeth moves through the small crowd of others and stands in the middle of them and picks up her voice. “Dan and I have spotted a mermaid in our waters.” She says. “We saw it while we were out in the forest frolicking for fruit.”

There is a sudden uproar of voices and everyone seems to be appalled by the word of a mermaid being spotted. A few of the males step forward with their fishing nets in hand and scowl.

“How dare a mermaid invade our waters?” The one spat out, his eyes growing a bit darker in color.

“We must all brace for an impending invasion!” The other one called, his wings suddenly fluttering as he picked up into the air, hovering. “We must prepare for anything they bring. It’s clear that they’re ready to strike us again and we need to be ready.”

Dan felt his mouth opening and shutting, almost as if he wanted to argue and say that he thought that wasn’t true. But he didn’t speak up. He wasn’t too well known in the village like Lilibeth was and he wasn’t going to get into any possible scrabbles with other fairies. Dan knew how stubborn his kind can be.

Slowly, the village began to whisper among each other and Dan found himself in the middle of everyone else as they all spoke about what the mermaids could do to them. It made Dan shudder and wrap his arms around his thin frame, almost as if to protect himself from something that wasn’t even there.

When the sun began to set, and the moon and stars came out, the village broke apart and Dan walked back to his cottage besides Lilibeth. They said their goodnights to each other and went their separate ways.

As Dan washed up in his basin and then redressed, he found himself thinking about the mermaid and if the creature was really as dangerous as everything was telling him they were. He knew from the stories that mermaids could be mean but his kind could be too.

When Dan tucks himself into his bed and wills his eyes to shut, all he can think of is whether or not the mermaid is still in the water, just swimming around, unaware of what was going on in the village.

***

Many moons passed and nothing happened within the village. Most villagers have forgotten that the mermaid was in the water while a few remain on watch some nights by the water to make sure the mermaid didn’t leave.

Dan found himself thinking about the mermaid every time he did anything. When he was out in the village looking to barter for a new shirt, he found himself wondering if the mermaid had ever worn a shirt. When he goes into the forest and picks his berries, he finds himself wanting to go to the water and see if he can see the mermaid again, just to see what they looked like.

He was curious.

When he is out one afternoon and has packed all of his leaves, flowers, and fruit into his leaf knapsack, he finds himself flying to the water. He maneuvers through the branches and trees and surpasses a few bees before he lands on the edge of the water and looks down into it.

He’s stood on a rock on the end, peering at his own reflection in the light pool. A few bugs dance along the top of the water and he giggles as he watches the way they bounce and make little zaps onto the water.

Dan plops down onto his behind and sits with his legs tucked under him. He removes his knapsack from his shoulder and sets it down beside him as he looks at the water and stares with intent to see if he can spot the mermaid. They were probably already gone but Dan was just curious into seeing one that he was eager to sit and watch.

After a few moments of nothing happening, Dan finds himself already getting a bit board so he looks around and finds a stick next to him. He picks it up in his hand and looks it over before he gently pushes it into the water and watches the rippling around it.

He waves the stick around, drawing designs in the water and giggling as he watches so fish come up and try to bit the end of the stick like its bait. As nothing continues to happen, Dan feels himself sigh and let out a breath. The mermaid was definitely gone and he was beginning to doubt that he and Lilibeth even saw it. Maybe their minds had just been playing tricks on them. He really isn’t sure anymore.

Dan moves back and picks the stick out of the water, throwing it off to the side and feeling the splashes of the water until his skin as he does so. He shivers from the cool touch of the water and turns his head to pick up his knapsack when he hears loud splashing in front of him.

He looks up and see’s blue eyes staring at him, just barely peaking over the water with a mop of wet dark hair on top. Dan feels his heart beat erratically and he begins to crawl backwards to escape the edge of the water.

The head suddenly comes up further and Dan lets out a loud gasp as he sees the mermaid in front of him, their webbed hands coming up and swimming in circles to keep the mermaid afloat. Dan watches the creature for a moment before the fear wins out in his head and he wills himself to fly.

He flies as fast as he can back to his cottage and only when he has landed and caught his breath has he realized that he left his knapsack at the water and he was going to need to go into the village for food that night.

***

A knock happens on Dan’s door as he’s mashing some berries in his bowl to create a tea to drink. He stands up from his table and walks over, opening the door to see Lilibeth on the other side.

She was wearing a long skirt today which was unusual for her but Dan had to admit she looked beautiful. She must have bought it in the village or she might have flown to the next village over for it.

“Peter told me that he and Caspian have been on watch at the water every night.” She says, inviting herself in and walking inside. She takes a seat at his table on one of the stools and rests her feet on the stool across from her. “He said that there is a mermaid living in the waters but it doesn’t appear to want any harm.”

“Oh.” Dan finds himself saying as he shuts the door and walks towards her, sitting down opposite.

“Which is a good thing.” She continues. “I’m not sure what our village would do if we had an onslaught of mermaids coming for us. Caspian says that he believes there is only one lone male.”

“I’m aware.” Dan says. “I saw it today.”

“You did?” Lilibeth questioned. “When?”

“Earlier when I was out in the forest getting my food.” Dan says. “I decided to go sit by the water and it came up while I was there. I was too afraid to do anything so I flew away.”

“Did it appear dangerous?” Lilibeth asks

Dan shook his head. “No, but I’m also not sure.”

“What did it look like?” She questioned.

Dan shook his head again. “I didn’t really see.”

“I’m afraid that it has ulterior motives.” She says, keeping up with the original subject. “Although Caspian and Peter both told me that they did not believe the mermaid was harmful, I’m unsure. Why would a mermaid invade our waters? They know their place.”

Dan nodded but he didn’t agree with her. He didn’t believe that the mermaid was harmful because…well, he didn’t really have a good reasoning for it. He just had a feeling that the mermaid wasn’t harmful and he was going to believe it.

“Speaking of,” Lilibeth says, clearing her throat a bit. “Caspian asked me if I would go fishing with him one day.”

Dan felt his lips curl into a smile. “Oh?” He teases. “You and Caspian going to be a family?”

Lilibeth reaches out and shoves his shoulder. “He gave me this skirt as a mating gift.” She says, flattening the fabric onto her legs. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Dan nods because the white fabric weaved with green is stunning against her long white hair and bright eyes. She paired it was a beautiful sheer green top and Dan finds himself staring at how beautiful she looks right now. Almost glowing actually, if you will.

“It’s stunning.” He says. “Where did Caspian get it?”

“He didn’t say.” Lilibeth answered. “But as soon as he gave it to me, I knew I had to accept.”

Dan couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at Lilibeth and Caspian. He has sort of known that something was going on between them when he would spot Caspian coming out of Lilibeth’s cottage often, sometimes in the morning. He was happy for her, really he was. He knew that they were at the time of their life where mating was something they needed to do but it was hard for Dan to find someone he could see as his mate when he was attracted to…well, males.

He and Lilibeth shared a meal together before she left to tend to her garden and Dan decided he wanted to finish making his teas. Later that night when he was getting washed up to lay down, he found himself thinking about the mermaid again and it’s deep blue eyes that pierced into him.

Dan wanted to see that mermaid again. He was determined to.

***

As the sun is rising the next morning, Dan is already at the edge of the water, tip toeing down the rock to the edge. He hadn’t been able to get any rest the night before. His mind was busy trying to figure out the mermaid. He was still so curious about the creature and as soon as dawn began to break, Dan had gotten up and dressed and flown to the water where he now was.

He was sat on the same rock he had been the day before. This time, he had his feet dangling into the cool water and he was swishing them back and forth, running the water over the tops of his feet. He was laughing a bit at how they tickled but he mostly just liked the feeling of the water running over his feet. He was still doing this when he saw the ripple in the water come from nowhere and suddenly, the same piercing blue eyes were staring up at him from the surface.

Dan draws in a loud breath and looks down at the water and at the creature. He pulls his feet up from the water and tucks them under his body as he kneels and places his hands on the end of the rock in front of him and stares intently, trying to figure out the mermaid.

“Is all you fairies do is stare?”

The voice shocks Dan and he lets out a gasp as his eyes widen and watches the mermaid breach the surface of the water and swim closer, his head fully poking out. Dan moves backwards from the edge of the rock and the mermaid comes up and pushes their arms on the end of the rock, resting their upper body on the edge.

“I’ve never seen your kind before.” Dan says, his voice catching a bit in his throat.

The mermaid scoffs and a small smile ghosts his lips. “I see you all staring at me every night.”

“We don’t mean to do any harm!” Dan quickly says. “It’s just that none of us know what to do with a…”

“A mermaid.” The creature finishes. “Do you have a name?”

Dan nods. “I’m Daniel.”

“I’m Phil.”

Dan looks down and cocks his head to the side. Phil? He’d never heard of a name like that before. It sounds like a mortal name.

“What are you doing in our waters?” Dan asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Phil opens his mouth but suddenly the sound of whispers and voices drowns out anything he could have been saying. Dan quickly turns his head and sees a group of his fellow villagers coming towards the water, some with fishing nets and some with what looked like branches poles.

Dan quickly turns back to say something to Phil but Phil is long gone, already swum off somewhere else in the water. Dan quickly stands up and rushes away, ready to fly off and escape the other villagers when his name is called by a deep voice in the group.

“Daniel?” Dan turns his head and sees Caspian standing on the outside with Peter on his right. He’s holding a hand-woven net in his head and his red wings are waving in the air. He walks over to Dan and gives him a questioning look. “What are you doing near the water?”

Dan opened his mouth and quickly thought of the first thing that came to his head. “I was out getting some berries but they began to stain my hands so I came to the water to wash my hands.”

Caspian nodded and cocked his eyebrow. “The water is not safe right now, Daniel. You should be more careful.”

Dan wanted to roll his eyes. He understood that Caspian was a wee bit older than himself but he didn’t like how Caspian treated him like a youngling just because Dan liked to gather berries and fruit and not fish.

“I’m aware.”

“We do not know if the mermaid is dangerous yet so please, do not go to the water unless you have to.” His voice goes soft and he looks around before leaning closer to Dan, his long brown hair falling over his shoulder and nearly into Dan’s face. “I’d hate to tell Lilibeth that we found you at the bottom of the waters.”

Dan swallowed at that thought and furrowed his brows, but nodded nonetheless. He quickly said his agreement to Caspian and then bid his farewell and flew away, feeling completely foolish.

When he lands at his cottage, Lilibeth is walking outside of her own with a leaf filled with water in her hands to water her garden. Dan finds himself walking up to her, coming up behind her as she waters down her plants.

“I went to the waters this morning.” He says to her. “I spoke with the mermaid.”

Lilibeth dropped the leaf on the ground, the water splashing around their feet. She stood up from squatting position and turned to face Dan. “Are you foolish?”

“The mermaid was nice!” He counters. “He told me that his name was Phil. I don’t think he means any harm.”

“Daniel,” She says, her hands coming up in front of her to make a gesture towards Dan. “We do not know if this mermaid is dangerous. Mermaids are manipulative creatures. You need to be careful. You cannot be going to the waters and just accepting this foul creatures friendship.”

“I wasn’t doing that!” Dan counted. “I went to the waters and the mermaid was there and I spoke with him.”

“You’re acting like a fool.” Lilibeth says, her voice tight and harsh. “You’re not thinking.”

“I’m aware of what I’m doing.” Dan says. “I see now harm in the mermaid being there.”

“That’s all fine and well until in one move, it’s slitting your throat.”

“Lilibeth, we don’t know…” Dan stops himself because what he was going to say would just prove her correct. They do not know if Phil is dangerous so in hindsight, Dan shouldn’t be seeing him or even speaking to him. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

“I don’t want you getting harmed.” She says. “Caspian warns me of the mermaid all of the time and I’m warning you. Do not befriend him. Treat him like an enemy.”

Dan nods.

“And please, Dan.” She continues. “Do not go to the water and see him.”

Dan doesn’t end up listening to Lilibeth despite her warning him and the next few days, he found himself waiting on the edge of the water for Phil to come and speak to him. A few mornings in a row, Phil did not swim up to Dan but rather just swam closer for a moment before disappearing back into the water. This frustrated Dan immensely.

But then after nearly four mornings of not seeing the mermaid, Dan finally sees him again and they talk for a brief moment before Phil would disappear and Dan would be left all alone again on the rock.

On the fifth day, Dan had been out all afternoon gathering as many fruits and berries he could so he could take them to the town center to barter for new clothes and he found himself going to the water just as the night was beginning to fall. The moon was reflecting brightly in the water and he sat on the same rock he always did and snacked on a few berries as he waited to see Phil.

His eyes eventually grew tired and his body began to collapse in on itself from exhaustion and he found himself laying down the rock to rest. His eyes shut and just as he’s beginning to succumb to his bodies rest, he feels something reach out and touch his hand.

He opens his eyes a bit and sees Phil leaning on the edge of the rock, his hand coming out and resting on top of Dan’s. Dan feels his heart pick up it’s beating as he looks down at Phil.

“You always come every day to see me.” Phil says, his voice gentle. “What do you see in me? You should be afraid.”

Dan picks his head up and bit and looks down into Phil’s blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.” He says, his voice wavering a bit. “I know you don’t want to hurt anymore. If you were going to hurt me, you would have already. I like visiting you and seeing you.”

Phil’s lips curled into a slight smile and Dan smiled back, his head resting limply against the rock. Dan looked down at their hands again and he notices that Phil’s hand is not webbed at the moment, it looks just like Dan’s. Dan opens his hand and turns his palm over underneath Phil’s skin. Phil looks down between them and his connects their hands together.

“You don’t treat me like I’m a monster.” Phil says. “I appreciate that.”

“You’re not a monster.” Dan says. “You’re just another being like me.”

When Dan shuts his eyes, no longer again to fight it anymore, his and Phil’s hand is still connected on the rock and Dan feels comfort in knowing he’s gained the trust of such a ‘dangerous’ creature.

Dan feels safe around Phil.

When he wakes up to the bright sunlight, his hand is alone and he’s alone as well. Phil is gone back into the water and Dan is unsure of how long Phil stayed with him but his heart fluttered a bit thinking that maybe Phil had watched over him all night and protected him.

He was beginning to take a liking to the mermaid and it was a bit scary for Dan to think about. He found himself thinking about Phil’s bright eyes and soft smile. He thought about how gentle and kind Phil’s voice had actually been. He thought about the trust in Phil’s voice when he told Dan he appreciated him.

Dan really liked Phil.

If he wasn’t feeling a bit foolish, he might even say that he could see Phil as his mate. Maybe that’s why they were able to appreciate each other so well. On some deep level, they were mates.

Dan felt a bit daft knowing that he was a fairy and really thinking about being a mate to a mermaid after their history of tension between the two but he couldn’t help thinking about it. He thought about how Phil’s lips would fell against his own. He thought about how Phil’s skin would feel against his. He wondered if Phil had a body like his own―he heard mermaids could sometimes walk on land―and if he and Phil could share such intimate moments with each other.

He continues to have these thoughts the rest of the day until Lilibeth comes knowing on his door at dusk, a worried expression on her face. She’s a bit disheveled and her wings and fluttering in worry. “Daniel, they’re planning on slaughtering the mermaid.”

Dan felt his heart shatter and his eyes will up with tears. “What?”

“Caspian and Peter saw the mermaid by you as you slept near the water and they feared that it had plans to do something awful to you. They’re planning on killing him. I just got word.”

“Lilibeth, they can’t kill him!” Dan pleaded. “Phil means no harm!”

“Daniel, I do believe you but Caspian is certain about this and I’m afraid he’s not going to change his mind.”

“I have to go and warn him!” Dan cries. “I need to warn him about this!”

He doesn’t wait for Lilibeth to answer. He just pushes past her out of the cottage and takes off, flying as fast as his wings can go towards the water.

When he lands, he falls to the rock and crawls to the edge. He cups his hands to his mouth and shouts Phil’s name until the mermaid rises from the water and swims near, his blue tail poking behind him out of the water. When he gets to the rock and pulls himself up, Dan reaches down and grabs for his hand.

“Phil, they’re planning on killing you.” He cries. “The fairies in my village think you’re going to harm someone…they’ve already made their decision.”

Phil reaches up and his webbed hands transforms into a normal hand and smoothes its ways through Dan’s hair. “Do not worry.” Phil says. “I’m not afraid of them.”

“But they’re going to kill you!” Dan cried. “They can’t kill you!”

Phil shushed him and rested his hand on Dan’s jaw. “They’re not going to kill me. I won’t let them.”

“They’re strong, Phil. They won’t give up.”

Phil just shushes him again and runs his hand over Dan’s cheek, soothing his crying. “I’m going to be safe, Dan. I promise nothing will happen to me.”

“I know you’re good.” Dan says. “I know you won’t harm anymore and you won’t harm me. I know you wont!”

Phil continued to stroke his cheek and Dan sees Phil’s eyes glistening a bit with his own tears and sadness. Dan sniffles and tries to stop his crying but he lets a few more tears fall. He was just going to know Phil, he didn’t want to lose him yet. He couldn’t.

“I’ll be safe.” Phil repeats.

“Please be safe.” Dan says. “For me.”

“I’ll be safe for you.”

Dan looks down at Phil and finds himself leaning in, ready to connect their lips. He presses his lips against Phil’s mouth and their lips lock as if they were a perfect match. Dan lets out a whimper and pulls back, Phil’s hand still resting on his cheek.

“If you weren’t a mermaid, I’d say you were my mate.” Dan says.

“You are my mate.” Phil says. “I know you were special to me the moment I saw you.”

“Me too.”

Phil smiles at him and then he leans up and they share another kiss. When Dan pulls back, he positions himself so he’s laying down on his stomach and he’s face to face with Phil.

“How did you even get to our waters?” He says. “Mermaids aren’t supposed to know where we are.”

“I got lost from my kind.” Phil says. “I was messing around with a couple of other mermaids and I got separated from them. I swam the full length of the water before I came to land and had to try and find where they went. I can walk on land for short distances so I wandered until i was near exhaustion. I was on the verge of death when I saw your water here and I stumbled in. I never meant to invade your land.”

“I knew you weren’t an invader.” Dan says, his lips curling into a smile. “I knew you didn’t mean any harm.”

“I never would harm anyone unless they wanted to harm me.” Phil says. “I am not a dangerous kind.”

Dan opens his mouth to ask Phil more questions when there is a glowing amber light in the distance. He turns his head and sees fire and torches coming towards the water. There is whispering and shouting coming from there and Dan feels himself begin to panic.

“Phil, they’re coming to kill you! We have to go!” Dan gets up and tries to tug for Phil to get up onto the rock. “Please!”

“I have no where to go, Dan!” Phil cries. “I’ll die if I can’t get back to water.”

“I have a basin at my cottage you can be in! But you can’t stay here.”

“Dan, I don’t think I can…”

“Please!” Dan cries, tears escaping down his cheeks again. “I can’t have you die when I just found my mate.”

Phil looks out towards the glowing amber and then back at Dan and climbs his way up onto the rock. Dan is mesmerized by Phil’s stunning blue and green scaled tale and how it transforms into two lanky legs in front of his eyes.

Despite the fact that Phil is naked, Dan wraps his arm around his waist and hurries him into the forest where they rush as fast as they can. Dan uses the strength he has in his wings to fly them back to his cottage just as he hears Caspian’s deep voice shout to the crowd that tonight, they kill a mermaid.

As soon as they land, Dan hurries Phil into his cottage. Phil is panting and exhausted, barely able to hold himself up. Dan rushes to get the water into his basin and then he helps Phil step inside the water. Once his lower half is coated, Phil visibly relaxes and his tail begins to form again.

Dan breathes a sigh of relief and rests next to the basin where Phil lays back and rests his head against the back, shutting his eyes. Dan reaches up and connects their hands as he lays down on the floor of his cottage and shuts his eyes as well.

***

The next morning, Dan finds his wings a bit crumbled under him as he wakes up to Phil staring at him from the basin. His body is covered with a thin layer of water and Dan can see that he’s struggling to remain submerged in Dan’s small tub.

“I can’t stay here forever.” Phil says. “I can’t live in something this small.”

Dan nods, feeling his chest tighten. “I know.”

“I need to go back to the water but…”

“I’ll talk to the village!” Dan says, sitting up. “I’ll convince them to let you stay here in the water.”

“They want me dead, Dan.”

“I know but, I feel like I can convince them.”

Dan picks himself up and stretches as his wings as he paces around the cottage and tries to figure out how he is going to do this. He eventually takes in a deep breath and heads out of the cottage and into the village center.

Most people are out and about already this morning and Caspian, Peter, and Lilibeth are as well. Caspian is talking loudly to another villager about how he missed his opportunity to kill the mermaid last night and Dan felt a bit sick.

Dan walks over to Caspian and stands in front of him. “You can’t kill Phil.” He says. “You can’t hurt him!”

Caspian’s eyes widen and he cocks his head. “Who is this Phil?”

“The mermaid!” Dan says and everyone around him suddenly stops talking and ceases their movements. “You can’t hurt him!”

“And why can’t I?” Caspian questions. “He’s a dangerous threat to our village and our peace. He needs to leave.”

“No, he doesn’t!” Dan counters. “Phil doesn’t mean any harm! He got lost from his kind and ended up in our waters. He has no idea where he is or where he can go! He needs to stay in those waters to stay alive!”

Caspian let out a laugh and Peter followed. “I have some news for you then, Daniel. The mermaid was not in the water last night. Must be he already left.”

“No.” Dan shook his head and sucked in a breath. “Phil stayed in my cottage last night. He stayed in my washing basin but he can’t stay their forever! He needs the water!” Dan pleads. “He means no harm to anyone and he’ll never lay a hand on me but I believe he is my mate and I would like for him to be able to stay.”

Lilibeth picks up her head and looks at Dan, giving him that knowing glance that Dan has seen her give him so often. She suddenly turns to Caspian and places her delicate hand on his arm. “Let the mermaid stay in the waters.” She says. “He hasn’t harmed anyone yet and I doubt he will. You can let him stay in the waters and if he harms anyone or anything, then we can think of what to do. But it is true that he hasn’t harmed us.”

Caspian looked between them both and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But the moment he hurts anyone, I’ll kill him with my own hands.”

Dan nodded and agreed with a smile because he knows that Phil wouldn’t even harm anyone or anything. Phil just needed a place to live and the waters was perfect for him.

Dan thanked Lilibeth with a hug and then thanked Caspian with a bow and flew back to his cottage as fast as he could. He pushed open the door and rushed inside, yelling Phil’s name as he said, “Phil! They’re allowing you to stay! You can stay in the waters!”

When he doesn’t hear a response, he wanders to his water basin and sees it empty, Phil no longer in sight. His heart shatters in his chest and he falls to his knees as sobs collect in his throat and he cries into his hands.

Phil was gone.

***

Dan doesn’t see Phil for many moons. He finds himself at the edge of the water each morning and night, waiting for Phil to come back. Each day, his heart breaks more and more at the thought of losing Phil and not knowing where he is.

After the fifth day, Dan begins to give up hope.

Dan sits on the edge of the rock, a stick in his hand as he waves it through the water and watches it ripple under his strokes. He continues to draw designs, his tears falling from his cheeks and landing on the rock in front him, splashing the dry stone. He sniffles and his body shakes as his vision blurs more. He misses Phil a lot.

He’s about to leave for the evening and go back to his cottage when something grabs his stick in the water. He gasps and looks down and his face crumples as he see’s Phil’s piercing blue eyes poking out of the water. Without thinking, Dan pushes himself into the water despite his sensitive wings protesting, and he wraps his arms around Phil, holding him close as Phil keeps them afloat with his swimming.

“I thought you left me.” Dan cries.

“I knew I wasn’t wanted by the village.” Phil says. “So I disappeared before they could kill me.”

Dan leaned forward and rested his head on Phils shoulder, his legs swinging in the water to help him swim. “But you’re allowed to be here now!” Dan says. “The villagers told me you could stay! I went back to the cottage to tell you but you were gone.”

Dan pulls back and looks at Phil who is staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

Dan nods and smiles. “You’re welcome to stay here, Phil. You get to stay with me.”

Phil lets out a loud cry and then they’re sharing another kiss as Dan chuckles and smiles because he’s so happy.

He’ll ask Phil where he went eventually but for right now, Dan was going to stay here with Phil and spend his evening with his newly found mate.

[imagines-dreams]

Another Year Older - Jack Frost Imagine

Rating: PG

Warnings: mentions of growing up/older, forgetting, not believing, etc.

Summary: Part 2 to Snow Day (can be read alone). It was your birthday. You loved birthdays. Desserts, gifts, friends. Really, you did. It’s just that after meeting Jack, you didn’t want to grow up. You… loved him. You didn’t want to forget.

Word Count: 1589

It was your birthday. Another year older. You had a small party with a few friends. You got a few gifts. Really, it wasn’t a bad day. It was just… Your birthday meant older, and you couldn’t help but think about Jack. He was forever stuck at twenty-one, and you weren’t. You were going to keep growing older and older until one day, you couldn’t fly with him again. You couldn’t go to North’s and hang out with the guardians. You couldn’t… love him the way you wanted to.

Then, there was that horrible thought. That tiny sliver of your brain that told you as you got older that you’d stop believing. So, you would forget Jack and the guardians, and you would never see them again.

You shivered and hugged yourself. You didn’t want that.

“Surprise!”

You cursed and fell off your chair. “Guys!” You turned around to find the guardians themselves in your bedroom with a beautiful cake and presents in hand. “How did you get-”

“Portal magic!” Tooth announced as she flew around you.

Jack tilted his head and stared at you weirdly. “That and you seemed a little loss in thought.”

You scoffed. “I was just waiting for you guys.”

“Then, it’s good we’re here!” North boomed. “Cause we have to celebrate!” He pulled out a weird contraption you didn’t recognize, and suddenly, your room was covered in confetti and balloons. You covered your mouth and laughed so hard with joy. You were going to miss this.

~ - ~

It was late into the night when the Big Four left you with your new presents and a sense of joy. Jack, however, decided to stay. “I need to judge your friends by how good they are at giving gifts,” he insisted as he inspected one of the smaller gifts you were given.

You scoffed and snatched the present from his hands. “Jack,” you chided, “I know you’re not really here to judge others.”

He laughed. “And how would you know that, hm, (Y/n)?” He reached for the present again.

You giggled and held it away from him. “I have known you for years, Jackson.” You put the present behind you and leaned in closer. “I know when you have ulterior motives.”

Jack smirked. “You are insightful.”

“I agree.”

Jacks eyes flickered to your lips for a second, so fast you weren’t sure how to react. Your eyes widened for a bit before you stepped back and set the gift down. “So, Guardian of Fun, why are you still here?”

Jack swung his staff back and forth before letting it lean against the wall. “I think you are keeping a secret.”

“A secret? Jack, don’t be ridiculous. North literally watches me every day.” You shrugged. “If I had done a terrible deed, I’m sure he would know about it.”

He sighed. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? It’s not nightmares, is it?”

“No! No, I would tell you immediately, if it was.” You sighed. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” You grabbed one of the presents and held it out. “Wanna judge?”

Jack’s worried eyes didn’t change. He put his hand on yours and pulled the present down so his eyes could meet yours. “Don’t change the subject. What’s wrong?”

“Jack-”

He held up his finger. “Nuh-uh. I’m your friend, and I care about you. A lot. So, any of your problems are my problems. What’s wrong?”

You gulped. How were you supposed to tell him? He couldn’t help you, and he’d go crazy trying to find something that doesn’t exist. You could lie, but where would that leave you? You’d just feel worse than before. You rubbed your arms. “Jack, I’m not like you.”

He nodded slowly. “There can only be one of me, (Y/n).”

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean… Jack, I’m not like you or North or Sandy or Bunny or Tooth. I’m not even like Pitch. I’m human.” Tears burned in your eyes. “Humans grow and get old and lose memories and beliefs. They change, and I…” You held your breath. “What if I forget you? What if I grow old and not believe in you? What if-”

“Hey, hey.” Jack grasped your shoulders. He wiped your cheeks and smiled. “You won’t forget me. I mean, have you met me? I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You shook your head. “No. Jack, I’m going to get old! You’re stuck forever just the way you are, and I’m…” You’re never going to be in love with him. You couldn’t.

Jack gulped. He had to make you feel better. When you were sad, it broke him. If he couldn’t make his best friend happy, what did that say about him as a guardian? What did it say about him as a friend? As someone who loved you?

“Hey,” Jack smiled despite the pain, “why don’t ride the winds?”

“What?”

“If I learned anything in the past few centuries, it’s that ignoring the problem through fun is fun.” He let go of your shoulders and held out his hand. “What do you say? Distraction?”

You stared at his outstretched hand and his brilliant smile. Ignoring the problem. Well, it’s not like you don’t do that. You sniffed, wiped your tears and grabbed his hand. “Distraction.”

~ - ~

Jack casted frost here and there as he thought. He loved you, and of course, he didn’t want you to forget him. Living without you being there, that was unthinkable. But, didn’t growing up mean a good thing for you? Gaining knowledge, experiencing new things, meeting new people who didn’t have to believe you to see you. You might meet someone you loved and have a life with them.

Wasn’t that good for you? Even if you stopped believing in him.

Jack sighed. If you stopped believing in him…

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to stand it, but if that meant you would live a fulfilling amazing life, he could find a way to survive. There had to be a way to show you that life without him would be better for you.

~ - ~

You tapped your foot against the floor impatiently. It had been two months since you’ve seen him. Even when he was off putting Pitch back in his place, he’d drop by and warn you about lurking nightmares. You cleared your throat. “Jackson Overland Frost?”

He didn’t appear.

“I know you’re avoiding me.” You stared outside your window. “And I know you’re nearby and can hear me because frost in the middle of spring is not common.”

Nothing.

You pursed your lips. You said your plans aloud, “Well, even though Jack’s not here, I guess I’ll just go outside.”

“Wait!”

You sighed and turned around. You crossed your arms. “Jack, why are you avoiding me?”

“Who says I’m avoiding you?”

“I am, and I’m right.”

“Maybe.”

“Jack!”

He sighed. “(Y/n), you just don’t need to be like me, ok?” He swung his staff to and fro. “You can live an amazing life. A human life. You don’t need me in it.”

Your heart dropped. “Jack, A life without you would suck. I can’t just live life without my best friend.”

“You were living it well for a while! So, you don’t have to be sad. You don’t need me.”

“Ok, fine, I don’t need you.” You laughed and took his hands in yours. “But I want you in my life, Jack.” You licked your lips. “Jack, I care about you, and the last two months were ok, sure, but it would’ve been so much better with you in it.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Jack, it’s ok.” You smiled and gazed at him. “I’d rather have you in my life for a few years than not at all.”

Jacks eyes shimmered in the low lighting, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He laughed. “Ok, fine. I’ll stay. But, more than that, I’m going to find a way.”

“What?”

“I’m going to find a way. Either to become human or how to make your life longer. (Y/n), we are going to-”

You shook your head and grabbed his sweater. “No!”

Jack stood shocked. “Wha-”

“Jack, that’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you! I don’t want you wasting your time on me, ok?”

“I never waste time when it’s on you. You know that.”

“I know that���s not true. I love you, Jack, but I am not letting you put aside being you just for me!” You looked up at him. Jack didn’t say a thing. You sniffed and wiped your tears. “What?”

Jack beamed, then he kissed you.

You gasped in surprise. You floundered for a second or two before smiling against his lips and pulling him closer. His lips were cold, of course, but it was refreshing. His breath was reminiscent of mint and the feeling of cold after sweltering heat.

Jack held you close, and he pulled away just to say, “I love you, too.” Then, he kissed you again, his lips moving fluidly against yours.

You laughed and pulled away, dizzy from Jack’s kisses.

That didn’t stop Jack. He kissed your cheeks and forehead and nose.

You giggled. “Wait, Jack, did we just…”

“Yeah, we did.”

“I said-”

“Yes.”

“And you…”

“Of course.” Jack blinked a few times. “That’s why I’m going to spend as much time as I can to fix this. We can be together. I want to be together. At least, if you want-”

“Yes. Yes, I want to be with you.”

Jack nodded. He kissed you and promised, “We’ll find a way.”

[frozenlanturns]

Hey, do y’all remember when I posted this (link) back in September?

Well...I went rifling through my old stories/ideas and found another fix I started but, of course, never finished or lost interest in. This was a fic I started before I realized that Hiccup was a ”problem” character for me. (by this, I mean he's kinda hard and weird for me to write and that's why I'm not going to really include him in fics anymore).

Anyway, I got to reading it and found that I actually still had some interest in it...with few changes of course.

Now, before I get into what is change, maybe I should tell y'all what this fic was.

This was the basic premise in which I based the world on: This takes place in the near future and in this future, a person's whole identity and such are stored in a chip that is implanted at the base on their necks and in their wrists. The chips also store the memories of a person and when a person dies, the family as a choice to have the dead member live on in an android or to get a sort of scrapbook of their memories. Sometimes when that person is missing and they are dead (like they were kidnapped and killed or they died with no one around), the system will automatically upload their memories to an android after a month.

The basic idea for the story for the fic was something like Jack was a human who went missing and then died (he would have fallen through a frozen lake and died alone) and everything was transferred into the mind of an android body...okay well almost everything made it to his new mind. He is awakened by an outside force but he is awakened too early. He escapes from the facility and is found by Hiccup, a young inventor who hides all his tools and such in an abandoned factory (almost Code Lyoko like). Hiccup, who doesn't know that Jack is an android yet, takes an unconscious Jack to his workshop and eventually Merida and Rapunzel would make their way into the story but I won't say anything because I might actually write this (after the Red Witch of course) and don't want to spoil anything.

Now what I'm going to show you was basically the beginning. How you enjoy it!

At first, he felt nothing.

He heard nothing.

He saw nothing.

But slowly, his senses began to trickle back to him. He felt the water all around him before he heard muffled sounds like he was submerged. He then forced his eyes to open and saw that he was in some sort of enclosed space with a single window. Faint, dim light confirmed that he was indeed submerged in water. He brought his hands up to the window and at that second, he heard muffled whirring.

Suddenly, his cage started to open and the water around him rushed out. When the doors opened more, the water pulled him out with it. The cold and sterile air stung his skin and the tile floor made more goosebumps rise. He collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud and clang. After all the water and flooded out, he started to have a coughing fit as he sat himself up.

“Good morning and welcome to your new life,” a robotic female voice spoke from nowhere. He looked around but couldn't find the source, “Jackson Overland. Age eighteen. You have been in suspension for thirty-five days. If you follow the arrows on the floor, we can get started on bringing you back to your family.”

My name is Jackson?

He felt a familiar ping telling him he didn't like being called that, but, he preferred something else but he couldn't figure it out. He looked to his left and saw a row of white arrows leading him somewhere.

As he started to stand on unsteady legs, a new voice spoke, but unlike the first one, this one came from inside his head.

“Don't follow the arrows. You have to leave. There should be an emergency exit to your right. You'll get more answers if you leave now.”

Answers? Did he want answers?

He raked through his mind and realized that he didn't remember anything.

He had no memories of a life he thought he had. The first voice said he was eighteen but where were those eighteen years worth of memories?

“If you follow those arrows, all you'll get are fake answers!” The second voice, also female, was worried and started to panic.

He didn't know who to listen to, but, his feet seemed to trust the second voice because they started to stumble towards the emergency exit. Behind the door was a long white hallway and another exit, hopefully leading outside. The second the door closed, an alarm blared and caused his ear to buzzed.

“Run!” The voice shouted. It sounded distorted, like when a speaker on a radio isn't working quite right.

Still a little unbalanced, he tripped and fell as he tried his best to run down the hall.

“I dis-...cameras! No on-…-ter you!” The voice cut in and out like it was getting a bad signal.

“Hey, stop that android!” A new voice, this one male, shouted.

Who were they calling an android?

It couldn't be me...could it?

He turned and saw three men in uniforms started to charge for him. Scared for his life, he ran the best he could until he crashed into the door and was greeted by crisp night air and falling snow. He pushed himself through the snow until the ground gave way beneath him.

He fell and rolled down a large hill.

When he met the bottom, he hit his head and lost consciousness and the last snowfall of that winter fell around him all night.