#otherwise why not just set his bags by the door? why haul them downstairs?

[chirpsythismorning]

Wait, did Mike sleep in Will’s room in Lenora?

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH12

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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The drive into city limits was thankfully uneventful. There was enough gas left from the last stop to make it all the way to the new apartment so Joseph declared that there would be no more stops. You and the younger guys had no issue with this plan, all of you so beyond tired that you would have agreed to any plan that involved you getting back to sleep.

It’s mid-morning when you wake up next, neck stiff from the awkward angle you slept in. You ended up in the very back row next to Kakyoin this time, and you both have to wait for Jotaro and Polnareff to fold down the seat to let you out. It’s disorienting to wake up in a completely new place. You’re greeted with a pretty nondescript parking garage, warm city air breezing through the open structure and kicking up dust and other questionable smells. You quickly cover your nose with your sleeve, reminded why you prefer smaller towns.

“Cheer up everyone! Not much further now.” Joseph seems to have really benefited from the full nights sleep, practically skipping past you all carrying his own bags as you trudge to the back of the truck to help unload. Between the six of you there is no need for a second trip, so the pack follows Joseph to the elevator, but instead of heading to the ground floor to begin your journey to the new apartment he selects the ‘lobby’ floor. If he was bouncing before, Joseph is vibrating with excitement now. “Everyone stay right here for a moment while I get the key. I want this to be a surprise.” Jotaro sighs but ends up putting his bag down in the open elevator door to wait for Joseph to get back. The view out the door is obstructed by a wall with some kind of post-modern art on it, the parking garage you just came from must be private parking for residents of the building. Your shoulders slump in relief; tension you didn’t know you were carrying melting at the realization you wouldn’t be hauling your bags across town on foot.

Joseph is back quickly, a brass key held out in front of him like some sort of holy relic as he walks. “Caesar’s been sending me pictures of the place; get ready to be blown away!” he turns the key in the elevator panel and selects a residential floor.

“Uncle Caesar’s already been here then?” Jotaro inquires.

“Well, he was. His email just said that it got set up and he’ll be done with company business soon. Then his pack is going to join us.” Joseph scratches at his beard as you all watch the numbers light up on the indicator panel. “I’ll call him today and we’ll get the final plan set in stone. It sounded like they only had a few things to set up before they can leave the company on ‘autopilot’ for a while.” His grin is as bright as ever as the elevator finally stops on the 26th floor and he rushes into the hallway as soon as the doors open wide enough.

The rest of you follow at a more sedated pace but you can’t help the excited feeling in your gut as you progress. The front door is flung wide open as Joseph hurls himself through the opening. You are almost blinded by the amount of natural light that greets you as you enter.

The two-level floor to ceiling windows grant a spectacular view of the city skyline, few other buildings tall enough to obstruct your view. The white walls and furniture bounce the light around the open living room and reflect off the glass and silver modern tables, everything placed and organized perfectly.

To your left is a dining area with a modern table and chairs, dark woods and pale cream-colored decorations tying in the colors of the living room. A large chandelier blocks some of your view to the kitchen, but from what you can see it is the most high-end residential kitchen you’ve ever seen outside of magazines and movies. Hell, it would put some of those to shame too. A pastel, almost minty aqua tile behind the stove is the only color added to the otherwise monochrome browns and creams so far, silver appliances shine in the reflected light.

Polnareff whistles loudly as he gives the place a good look as well, pretty much summarizing your thoughts. Jotaro, Kakyoin and Avdol are more modest in their reactions but you can tell by the way they straighten up and look around that they are eager to explore the new place too. Joseph is standing in front of the huge main window with his hands on his hips looking out on the mid-morning skyline. He turns with a flourish and throws his hands in the air, “We finally did it! I thought the previous owners were going to holdout forever, but we out lasted them! And now it’s ours!”

“Wait, you own this? Its not just a cool monthly rental?” you haven’t moved very far from the doorway, afraid to get anything dirty.

Jotaro ducks his head so his hat obscures most of this face, “Well, that’s not exactly what he means.”

“That’s right, JoeStar Realty has become a pretty big conglomerate since Caesar and I started it. We didn’t just buy out this apartment, we now own the whole building!” Joseph throws his head back and laughs triumphantly. You’re gob smacked as the reality of his statement sinks in. just what kind of pack did you stumble into? “Come on- showers and bedrooms are upstairs. We’ll all get situated and just relax today.” Joseph leads the charge up the stairs to your right and you all follow him up, bags in tow.

“There are five bedrooms, but with the Zeppeli pack staying here we’re going to have to share. I’ll give him a call and see what’s going on.” The rest of the guys nod and split up to explore the upper level. You follow suit and are amazed by the opulent bedroom you find yourself in. Looking in each doorway you see there are two smaller rooms decorated in creams and whites, still big enough to comfortably fit queen size beds. The larger three rooms done in blue, green, and grey are all furnished with king sized beds.

“(Y/N)! We’ve got two showers in this place- one of them is yours if you want to go first.” Joseph shouts from down the hall and you can see him poking his head out of one of the doorways.

“Yeah, sounds good to me- if everyone is cool with it?” You make your way over to the free bathroom, no one disagreeing with letting you be one of the first to shower. “I promise I’ll be quick!” You shout to the hallway before closing the door. the bathroom is just as fancy as the rest of the apartment, a large walk-in shower taking up most of the space. There are so many buttons and knobs, you’re tempted to try all of the settings but you just promised to be quick. Maybe you’d have the time to fully test it out later.

Luckily the apartment was also stocked with other essentials like towels and soap, and after a disappointingly fast shower – you only had time to try out a few of the fancy settings- you quickly change into a new outfit and grab a comb from your bag before dropping it off in one of the bedrooms. You make your way back downstairs to the living room and Polnareff jumps from his seat at the dining table when he sees you. He’s already bounded up the stairs before you can announce the shower is open now.

“Ah, (Y/N). I’ve got good news! I gave Caesar a quick call- he and his pack won’t be here till tomorrow afternoon. Polnareff volunteered to sleep out here in the living room, so we all get our own rooms for the night.” Joseph says as he and Avdol make use of the kitchen. Soap and towels must not be the only things supplied by the mysterious Zeppeli pack. A pretty impressive array of sandwich meats and condiments are spread out on the counter, and Joseph is putting the finishing touches on his own monstrous sandwich creation.

Jotaro is already showered and changed and sitting at the dining table working his way through his own mountain of sandwiches; you put you phone and comb down on the table next to him to save your spot while you make your own food. Cringing to yourself, you hope no one else notices you basically marked out territory right next to the alpha of the pack. Quickly throwing together some sandwiches you join the guys at the table.

The relaxed atmosphere is broken by the chorus of ‘Mama Mia’ suddenly staring to play. Joseph nearly chokes on the bite he just took and coughs it down as he reaches for his cell phone. He finally gets himself under control and answers the call, “Suzi! Sweetheart!”

“Jojo dear! I just got off the phone with Caesar, when were you going to tell me you were back in the city? And what’s all this nonsense about monsters?”

“He, uh, told you about that, did he? Well, its nothing to worry yourself over. I was going to give you a call once we all got settled here.” Joseph’s free hand can’t seem to stary still, alternating between scratching his beard and ruffling his hair. “But it’s all good now! Everyone is fine, perfectly fine! No reason to worry!”

“You are a terrible liar Jojo. Is everyone really ok?”

Joseph relaxes a bit and a small smile creeps onto his face. He makes his way out to the balcony to take the call in private. Shutting the glass door, he takes a look at everyone gathered at the table before turning to face the city skyline.

“Jojo?”

“I’m here, just stepped out for some privacy.” He takes a deep breath to prepare before continuing. “We’re all ok for the most part. Some cuts and bruises but we’re all in one piece.”

The silence that follows is almost more frightening than Suzi screaming at him. Finally, she breaks it, “Where are you, I’ll be right there.”

“No! No, you stay put. Besides, Caesar and his pack are going to be here tomorrow, there’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about this Joseph. If there are dangerous people around, we should be together- the whole pack. There is safety in numbers after all.”

“Suzi, darling. Love of my life and sun in my sky,” Joseph does his best to butter up his mate, “I’m begging you to stay where you are; where you’re safe. We are attracting all kinds of enemies right now, if you got caught up in my fight again…” Joseph trails off, hoping the desperation in his voice talks some sense into her.

It seems to have done the trick as Suzi sighs loudly into the receiver, “Ok, have it your way Jojo. But are you going to keep everyone away? Remember Holly and Sado are supposed to be back in time for his big audition.”

“Damn. I forgot they were coming back so soon.” Joseph slaps a palm to his forehead and rubs it over his face.

“Oh! Wait! This gives me an idea!” Suzi practically sings into the phone, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Fiona and her kids, I’m sure Caesar wasn’t planning on bringing his whole pack along with him. She and Holly and anyone else not needed to fight, we can all stay together! We’ll have the best of both, all of us out of harms way and safety of numbers!”

“Suzi, you are absolutely brilliant. I’ll get Jotaro and Caesar up to speed on this plan. I’m sure they’ll agree. We can look for a cabin outside of town, that way you’ll be able to transform if you do run into trouble.”

“Oh, silly me! I keep forgetting we need to let Jotaro make the decisions. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to my baby grandson being in charge.”

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself, but he’s doing so well. Even with everything going on. Listen to this, it all started when we were at the new cabin to check out the area…”

***

From inside you watch as Joseph starts pacing and throwing his hands in the air as he talks on the phone. Jotaro had explained that was his grandma Suzi’s ringtone, Joseph was probably telling his mate everything that happened over the past several days. You pause as you are about to take another bite. Had it really only been a few days? Just a week ago you were a lone wolf, going from town to town as you pleased, and now…

You smile and greet Kakyoin and Polnareff as they take a seat at the table as well. Between bites of his food, Polnareff regals you all with a story about a job he had some years back that took place in a building down the street from this one. You do your best to look like you are listening, but you can’t help your thoughts drifting off to this strange situation you’ve become tangled in. You felt so at ease with everyone here, so unlike the packs you’ve tried to join in the past. They were such a close-knit bunch, especially considering it was rare for packs to be made up of so many non-family members. Hopefully the threads now tying you to this pack held strong after the hunter issue was solved. Just the thought of being outed from the group is enough to make you anxious, but you quickly quell the feeling with the resolve that you will do everything you can to prove you deserve to stay. To prove you belong.

The rest of lunch passes uneventfully, one by one you migrate to the living room and you end up sitting between Jotaro and Kakyoin again on one of the couches. Joseph and Avdol are across from you, Polnareff remaining at the table as he pulls out a laptop from his luggage. Now that you’re settled, clean, and full it’s hard not to drift between sleep and wakefulness. You don’t want to completely upset your sleep schedule so you settle on paying attention to the classic movie Joseph found on TV.

Jotaro and Kakyoin have no reservations about this it seems as they both quickly settle in for a nap as their attention on the TV wanes. Polnareff gives a loud yawn as he snaps his laptop shut and stands up to stretch. “Polnareff, would you mind if I borrowed your laptop if you’re finished with it?” Avdol stops him from putting it back in the carry case.

“Sure, what do you need it for?” Polnareff hands over the silver laptop, standing behind the couch and leaning over to see the screen.

“Something has been bothering me, about the encounters we’ve had recently. We seem to have run into more than our fair share, one of them even mentioning Dio by name.” You can see Polnareff’s hair stand on end and a full body shiver run through him at the mention of Dio. “I need to know; was it just bad luck that we ran into them? Or is there a magical component to this that we are not seeing? I need to do some research, but I wouldn’t put it past whoever is behind all this to use supernatural means to track and keep sight on us.”

You sit up straight in your seat as a chill rushes down your spine. You had been attributing the encounters to just bad luck, but the thought that they were intentional… Joseph seems to feel the same way, he stands from his seat with a growl and starts pacing.

“How can we tell for sure if we’re being watched?” Jotaro’s voice startles you. Apparently, he hadn’t been fully asleep. Kakyoin leans forward in his seat as well, the whole pack focused intently on Avdol.

“There are a few ways I can deduce if there is some kind of tracking spell being cast. But I need some time to refresh my knowledge on the subject. More importantly, if we find that there is a spell involved, we may be able to counter it.” Avdol hadn’t looked away from the screen while he addressed the pack, already deep into his research process.

“You’ll be able to block it once you know what it is?” You question him, curious to how the other werewolf could have such an in-depth knowledge of spells that he would only need to ‘refresh’ his knowledge.

“Not just block it. Most people don’t realize this, and in fact most spell casters depend on it, but when you use magic to view something it is like opening a window to look through. But when this window opens, if you have the right tools, you can view the caster back through the same portal.” You nod slowly at his explanation, still mystified at how he could possibly know this.

“Well, that’s some good news at least. Is there anything we can do to help?” Kakyoin asks as he sits up straight in his seat again.

“No, for now it’s just research to be done.” Avdol looks away from the screen to the pack. “Once I figure out what counter spells to use, I’ll need to collect some specialized tools from my shop.”

“Your shop? What’s that?” Today is raising more and more questions about the pack you’ve found yourself affiliating with.

“Forgive me, I forget you haven’t been with us that long to know. My family owns a curiosities shop, mostly catering to other sorcerers and people interested in the occult. You see, I’m half wolf on my father’s side. My mother is a sorceress, though she claims her only real talent is fortune telling.” Well, that would be one minor mystery solved about why Avdol knows so much about these things, but opens up even more intrigue to his past.

Jotaro nods and relaxes back into his seat, “Avdol, you make a list of what you’ll need from the shop. If its possible you should head over tomorrow with gramps, let your parents know it may be best to get out of town for a while.” Avdol nods at the order from his alpha and goes back to his research. The rest of you slowly relax back to your previous positions, Polnareff joining you all in the living room.

Its hard to tell how much time passes after that but it must be hours later when Joseph stands up and stretches, his joints cracking in protest. He winces a bit as he straightens out his spine, “I’m going to get started on dinner. Steak and potatoes sound good to everyone?” You could feel your mouth water at the thought and nod enthusiastically. Everyone else agrees as well and Joseph grins as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You join him, no time like the present to prove yourself useful. “What can I do to help?”

Joseph blinks twice before grinning at you, “Well if you really want to help, you can peel and chop these potatoes while I get the water and pans heated up. Sound good?” he hefts the bag of potatoes to the counter and you nod again, taking the bag from him and start looking for a knife.

You don’t catch the thoughtful look Joseph gives you and the glance to the living room as you get to work on your task. The open plan of the apartment was great for aesthetics but not for privacy. If he tried to grill you about your feelings and intentions toward his grandson, Jotaro was bound to overhear. Oh well, there were bound to be more opportunities in the future. Better to ignore it for now, Jotaro was under enough pressure as it was without discussing him like he wasn’t there.

Joseph gets to work on his own tasks and is impressed by how much you’ve gotten done when he checks your progress. “Wow, you really got to work on those. Where’d you get those knife skills, you a professional chef and just didn’t tell us?” Joseph laughs at his own joke.

“Ha, no. No, I’ve just worked a lot of odd jobs over the years. A lot of them happened to be in kitchens so I picked up a few things.” You chuckle with him as you continue working, adding a slight flourish to your movements to impress.

“Yeah, I guess that would do it, huh?” Joseph scratches his beard as he looks at you again, “If you don’t mind me asking, you said you’ve been on your own for a while… Why exactly? Have a falling out with your pack or something?”

“Nothing like that. I just…” You pause your movements as you try and think of the right words to explain, “It felt like it was time, you know? Adventure, fining myself, fining a pack of my own… That wasn’t going to happen if I just stayed home. So I packed up, hit the road and just kept going.” You smile as you turn to look at him. “I’ve actually had pretty poor luck with that last goal- finding a pack. Every time I ran into a new one that was looking for a member, it just never felt right, you know?”

“Well, that’s sad to hear, but at the same time I’m glad you’re with us now. How do you feel about that by the way? I know you’re kind of stuck right now…” Joseph trails off and you give him a bright smile.

“I know I barged into your lives, but you guys have done so much for me already. And, for the first time, I really feel like…” Joseph catches your glance at the living room and faint flush of your cheeks, “like I really have a place in the pack. Like I can belong.” Your eyes light with a sudden fire and intensity that catches Joseph off guard. “And I’m going to do everything I can to prove it. That I belong here.”

The last thing you were expecting was Joseph to gently pat you on the head and ruffle your hair a bit, “I wouldn’t worry about that (Y/N). You’ve already done it.” He gives you a sincere smile before turning back to the stove to get to work on dinner. You smile and do the same, quickly finishing and cleaning up your station.

Dinner is soon served and you are all entertained with stories from Joseph’s youth growing up in New York. You catch Jotaro next to you rolling his eyes at different parts of the tale. He sees your raised eyebrow and leans in, “Last time he told this story it was five vampires, now he’s up to eight.” You take a sip of water to hide your smile behind your glass.

After dinner is done and everything put away you find yourself back in the living room. You are about to get comfortable in an armchair when a yawn catches you off guard. Glancing at the clock you decide its not an unreasonable time to go to bed. “I think I’m going to call it a night guys. Do we need to work out bedroom assignments for the night or should I just pick one?” You stretch a bit as you move to stand next to the staircase.

“Nope, they’re all fair game tonight. Tomorrow we’ll have to figure out who is rooming with who when the Zeppeli pack gets here.” Joseph replies and you nod, giving one last goodnight to everyone before heading upstairs. You decide to just go with the one you dropped your stuff in, one of the rooms with a queen bed all to yourself tonight. Making sure you weren’t trapping anyone else’s things in the room you quickly change before falling into the bed face first. The covers are barely settled over you before you drift off to sleep.

***

You hadn’t set any kind of alarm, so you are a bit disoriented with the feeling of having overslept the next morning. Or was it early afternoon already? You crack an eye open to read the time on your phone; 10:15. Not early by any means but not unreasonable after the last few days you’ve had. And nowhere near your record for sleeping in, but the rest of the pack didn’t need to know that just yet.

You go through your morning routine at an unhurried pace before descending the stairs. Polnareff is seated at the table on his laptop again, Jotaro and Kakyoin eating breakfast across from him. You greet them and make yourself some toast before sitting next to Polnareff. Taking a glance at the screen you recognize the blue logo of Facebook but the profile Polnareff is looking at makes you pause.  

“Isn’t that one of the hunters?” you motion with your free hand to the screen as you take a bite of your breakfast.

“Oui. I’m doing a bit of research on them before I go check out the addresses.” Polnareff responds but his eyes never leave the screen.

You hum and nod before returning to your toast. Glancing around you realize Joseph and Avdol must still be upstairs, but you hadn’t thought them to be late risers. Kakyoin sees your survey of the room, “Mr. Joestar and Avdol have already left for his family’s shop. He said he was going to gather the necessary equipment to cast some protection spells.”

“They should be back in an hour or two, they didn’t leave that long ago.” Jotaro adds, his attention mostly on his breakfast but he makes eye contact with you as he speaks.

You nod again and watch Polnareff click through profiles and make some notes for a bit while you chew on your toast. “Is that really what you do as a PI? Facebook stalk people?”

Polnareff laughs, “Well this is just the first step. But you’d be astounded by what people volunteer sometimes. This guy,” he taps the ID card on the table, “has been surprisingly careful in what he posts. Which is a shame since he’s our best lead on whatever is going on. But since I have his address, I can put together a few things from what he does post.”

This catches Jotaro and Kakyoin’s attention and they both sit up straight in their chairs. “Since the place he claims to work for doesn’t have a website, and we know what his real job was, I was able to figure out where their equipment came from by cross checking their check-in tags from different restaurants around. It has to be one of the warehouses around the bay here.” Polnareff explains as he points to the map pulled up on his screen.

“Well, no time to lose then, lets go investigate.” Kakyoin says as he stands and collects his plate from the table to wash.

“Actually, I’d prefer to go by myself. It’s less suspicious if one person is hanging around and my methods, well… Let’s just say they aren’t 100% legal all the time.” Polnareff rubs the back of his neck and looks away for a moment before they both look to Jotaro for his decision on the matter.

Thinking for a moment, Jotaro seems to come to a decision as he closes his eyes and sighs. He opens his eyes again and focuses on Polnareff, “I’ll trust you to take care of yourself. I think you’re right though, a group of people snooping around is going to be more noticeable than just one.” You can tell by the look on Kakyoin’s face that he doesn’t agree, but he stays quiet. “The first sign of trouble you call us though, understood?”

“Of course! Although I don’t know how much trouble there could be, its not like he’s going to show up while I’m there.” Polnareff laughs and you smack your palm to your forehead, you would think he’d know better than to jinx himself like that.

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Author’s Note:

No fighting this chapter- everyone needs a break now and then. Also, I’ve decided I’m going to have to give up on once a week uploads- I feel like I’m really finding my voice writing this but it also means the chapters are getting longer and longer and I don't have the time I thought I would to get one chapter a week done. From now on posts will be sporadic but know that I am working on it a little each day!

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Four: On A Hill ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, death, gun ] [ Verse: Stockades and Stagecoaches ] [ AO3 Link ]

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“YAH!”

Kicking spurs into his mount’s side, Sasuke leans up over the horse’s neck, releasing his reins to better keep hold of his rifle. Hooves thunder against the ground, dry and dusty in the dog days of Summer. Ahead of him, his target is just as desperate to build speed, glancing back over his shoulder to his pursuer.

Just a little closer…

Then with a bang and a whiz, a bullet flies by, followed quickly by more as the fiend draws a pistol, firing nearly blind behind himself in a last ditch effort to ward off his foe.

But Sasuke’s been in far too many fire fights to flinch. Instead, he finally launches a bullet of his own with a cracking report.

It flies true, burying into the man’s back with a cry of agony. For a moment he sits stiff in his saddle before falling to the earth. His own horse keeps running, and Sasuke makes no attempt to stop it. Instead, he brings his to a stop with a hold of the reins and a soft, “whoa”.

Blood pooling in the dirt, the rogue beneath him draws a few more rattling breaths before going still.

Seems he won’t be getting a confession, but in truth he doesn’t need one. All he knows is that this one’s face was on a wanted poster...and when Sasuke decides to take down a bounty, nothing stands in his way.

Dead or alive.

Dismounting, he goes through the man’s pockets, taking anything of note that the dead no longer need. A few dollars, a pocket watch, and a half-empty package of cigarettes. He doesn’t smoke, but he might be able to trade them to someone who does.

Making sure the target’s deceased, Sasuke then hauls him up behind his saddle, tying him down to take in to the sheriff’s office. For good measure, he folds the copy of the poster he took and stuffs it in the man’s pocket to make the last step all the easier.

He then climbs up into his seat, surprised to find the other horse come to a stop not too far off. With a flick of his lasso, he manages to catch it, leading it back toward town. Given his owner no longer has need of it...might as well sell it. He trusts his own mount too much to consider trading, and he doesn’t carry enough to need a pack animal.

The less he can get by on, the easier it is to keep moving.

The ride to town takes him until sunset, curious citizens gawking at the scene. Bounty hunters aren’t exactly rare, but a successful haul - let alone a dead one - still draws gazes.

Clearly about ready to call it a day, the sheriff lounges in a rocking chair along the front of the jail, sitting up as Sasuke approaches. “And what have we here?”

Rather than answer, the Uchiha grabs the body and tosses it on the veranda, whipping out the parchment and presenting it without a word.

“Hm…” With a boot, the sheriff turns the body face-up, comparing the face to the sketch. “Seems right to me. Give me a moment and I’ll fetch your reward, mister…?”

“Uchiha. Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Mister Uchiha.” Giving a nod and stepping over the corpse, the other man disappears for a few minutes before returning with a small wad of bills. “Two hundred and fifty dollars, as advertised. And our little town thanks you for your service. One less varmint runnin’ amok.”

Hand at its brim, Sasuke tips his hat respectfully before remounting. With that money, he can easily afford a room, a bath, and to restock on supplies before heading to the next town to see what work they’d have. But first...a little rest and relaxation for a job well done.

His horse plods easily through town, watching as it begins to button up for the evening. Wives scold late-returning husbands, children are ushered in before it gets dark...and patrons flock to the tavern for its late night lights and spirits.

Tempting, but he’ll want a clear head to travel come morning.

His plan, however, soon runs into a snag. Seems the inn is full.

“There’s a boarding house at the west end a’town,” the innkeep offers. “A bit more spendy, but it should do well for ya. Run by a real nice gal. Sits up on a hill, y’can’t miss it.”

Glancing in the offered direction, Sasuke spies what looks to be the building’s silhouette as the sun sets behind it. Giving his thanks, Sasuke follows the scant directions, finding himself at the base of a three story building. Curious eyes rove over it before lowering to the door. Horse tethered in what is clearly the property’s stable, he walks up and knocks.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the door opens. And standing within it is a woman of shorter stature and fuller features. But what catches his eyes first are her own: a pale color, almost like subdued lilac.

She in turn looks surprised to see him. And given that he sees no evidence of other guests, Sasuke can guess why. “...evening, sir!” she then greets, flashing a demure smile. “Can I help you…?”

“I was told lodging was offered here?” he asks, glancing up behind her.

“Yes, this’s a boarding house. Are you in need of a room?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Thinking to remove his hat, Sasuke then offers, “Wouldn’t turn down a bath and a meal, either.”

That gets her to softly laugh. “Of course. No offense, but...you look like you brought half the road with you.”

“Oh, er…” Stepping back, he dusts at his garments. “Had a long ride.”

“Most who come through do. If you’d like, I can launder those for you.”

He pauses. “...I’d appreciate that, ma’am.”

“Oh, please - miss Hyūga suits me just fine.” She then opens the door wider, and Sasuke steps in, spurs clinking quietly. “I’ll get that bath started for you. Just leave your things outside the door and I’ll tend to them.”

“Sure it’s not a bother?”

“Not at all. I’m...sure you’ve noticed you’re the only patron at the moment,” she notes with a weary sigh. “So I’ve all the time in the world. If anything, a bit more to do would be nice.”

Still feeling a bit awkward at all the offered hospitality, Sasuke just nods, letting her show him to a room and then the bathroom. She heats the water on the stove, filling the tub and leaving soaps for his use.

Taking in his saddlebags, Sasuke unpacks one of few spare outfits he has, stripping down and leaving what’s soiled outside the door before slipping into the water.

Admittedly...he can’t remember the last time he had a proper bath. Mostly just rinsing off in obliging rivers or rain barrels. So this? This is a treat. And he’s going to be damn sure to enjoy it while he can.

Only once clean and the water cold does he emerge, toweling off and dressing. Upon cracking open the door, he does indeed find what he left behind gone.

Feeling a bit standoffish, he eventually makes his way back downstairs, following the scent of food. And there he finds Hinata setting the dining room table before glancing up to him.

“My, looks like you’ve shed ten pounds from lost dirt alone,” she notes, smiling again as he flashes pink across the tops of his ears and the bridge of his nose. “Forgive me, it’s...been a while since I’ve had a guest. Seems my manners need some dusting off, too.”

“No harm, ma-...er, miss Hyūga.”

“Well, best have your supper before it gets cold.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, before you arrived. No need to fuss over me, sir. Though that reminds me...I’ve yet to ask your name.”

“Sasuke Uchiha,” he replies upon taking a seat.

“Well, will you be with us long, mister Uchiha?”

“Just until morning.”

For a moment, disappointment flickers over her face, but is soon replaced by another smile. “Well, I’d best make the most of it, then! If you need anything else, just holler. I’ll be finishing up some chores. If you turn in early, I’ll offer a goodnight now.”

Sasuke just nods, watching her leave before taking a bite.

He’ll admit, it’s damn good.

Once his plate is cleared, he peeks into the kitchen, finding it empty and leaving his cutlery by the sink. Part of him wants to inquire after his clothes, but...well, she’s already doing him a favor. No need to appear pushy. Instead, he follows the lamplight up to his room and tucks into bed for the night.

To his honest surprise, rest comes quickly, and he sleeps well past sunup. He must��ve been more tired than he’d thought. Sitting up, he pauses at the sight of folded clothes atop the chest of drawers nearby.

Seems they’re all taken care of.

Redressing, he makes to pack them only to pause. She even mended a tear in his sleeve from a knife fight he won a few nights back.

Fingering the stitches, he mulls that over before putting everything back in its proper place and hauling the saddlebags down to the main floor.

“Miss Hyūga?” he calls, tone a bit muted in the otherwise-empty building. Sounds come from the kitchen, but he doesn’t want to intrude.

“Breakfast is almost ready!” she replies, offering no further explanation. So, in the meantime, he takes out his bags and greets his mount. Seems they’re just as well-rested, bright-eyed and nickering softly.

“Not much longer and we’ll be back on the road,” he assures them softly.

Back inside, he steps in just as his hostess goes bustling past. “One last meal before you head on your way,” she explains with a smile.

“What’ll I owe you?”

“A dollar typically gets you a day.”

“But you’ve -?”

His counter is waved aside, taking her own seat to dine with him. “As I said, the busywork is a blessing itself. It’s been quiet. The mine that saw so many men come through is all but dried up, so...most of my business is past. A little longer, then I’ll likely move back to the city. It was a fun little venture, but all good things come to an end, I’m afraid.”

Having no retort, Sasuke stands for a moment before joining her. They pass with small talk, the Hyūga woman telling of the town, and Sasuke of his choice in work.

“What an adventure it must be,” she offers wistfully, cradling her mug of tea as the meal comes to a close.

“It’s rarely boring,” he agrees dryly. “But not very steady, or comfortable.”

“I can imagine. But comfortable is often just that: boring,” she replies with a soft smile.

“A happy medium isn’t easy to find.”

“Well...maybe you will someday. At least you’ll have some freedom and excitement. I’ll be heading back to my father’s. Comfortable, but...well, it’s not exactly glamorous under his thumb.”

“Oh…?”

“He’s made his fortune in the oil fields,” she replies with a sigh. “So in reality, there’s little need for me to be here, but...I wanted to try and make my own way. But, as usual...I’ll end up right back where I started.”

Sasuke hesitates. “...I see.”

“But it’s nothing to cry over. I’ll make due. But I’ll miss it here. Meeting so many new people, hearing other stories…”

“Are you...running dry on funds?”

“Yes and no. I could keep pouring money into it, but...there’s just no point, now. Not with no one to pander to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. It was fun while it lasted. I’ll survive. I’m just thankful I got the opportunity.”

With that, the conversation mostly dries up, and Sasuke finds he has no real reason to linger. The sooner he leaves, the sooner he’ll reach the next town, and his next bounty.

...but part of him is sad to go.

Hinata tidies up after them, walking out to the porch as he mounts up.

“Thank you very much for your hospitality, miss Hyūga,” he offers genuinely.

“Thank you for the business. But more so the company,” she replies, smiling.

“So...where’s home, if not here?”

“My father has a home in the capital. I’ll return there in a few weeks, likely to just get married off. But...I suppose that’s not a bad thing.”

For some reason, his chest tightens...but he offers no retort.

“If you ever find yourself in the big city, maybe we’ll cross paths again,” she then adds, regaining his gaze.

“...maybe. Probably plenty of crime in the city.”

“Where men go, evil follows.”

HIs lips twitch before giving a polite dip of his head. “Miss Hyūga.”

“Safe travels,” she replies, waving as he makes for the town center. Time to stock up, and hit the trail.

...who knows. Maybe sooner or later it’ll lead to the big city.

     Oookay it’s late so I’ma be brief xD      Wild west AU cuz...reasons. While not really a fan of the genre overall, I do live really rural, so...it’s kinda ingrained into me lol. I’ve written one other piece in it but that was for another ship in another event I hosted last year. I’m no expert by any means xD      I doubt I’ll do more but I guess it depends on where the prompt list takes me, and I guess what you guys think? Buuut for now I’m gonna go sleep - thanks for reading!

[dirt-cup-draco]

Peter Parker x Reader - I’ve Got You

potential warning: depression

As if to mirror your mood, the skies opened up and let their tears out in rough gusts of emotion, pounding against your window. However, it brought a small smile to your face. It was comforting to know you weren’t the only gloomy one today. Things had seemed out of control lately, with school and work you felt like you never had time for you. But you also found the time you did have curled up underneath your covers, dodging family and friends, just trying to breathe. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to any of them, you loved and cherished the people in your life but nothing sounded more exhausting at the moment than being around them. You’d much rather just be in your room for a day, taking care of yourself. At least that’s how you justified it. However your self care day had been corrupted by the impending drop of your mood. The good never seemed to last. It had been a month since you’d hung out with any of your friends, two weeks since you’d texted Peter some bullshit excuse for why you couldn’t make movie night, or go to the mall, or get McDonald’s, and three days since you’d gotten out of bed to shower.

You knew your mom was out working all day and that was when you slipped downstairs for a slice of toast or a drink of water. Some days you grabbed a soda and even heated up some soup. Other days, admittedly, even opening the door to your bedroom seemed a nuisance and so the only distance you crossed was to the bathroom and back. Tendrils of melancholy were wrapped around your ankles, curling around your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

Peter had been worried about you. He felt like he was going mad checking his phone every seven seconds to see if you had texted him back yet, to any of his texts. He sent one every morning in the hopes you’d answer with more than a “I can’t today, sorry Pete,” or “I’m good, just busy!”.

It stung a little that you felt you couldn’t talk to him, tell him you were having a hard time. He had known you long enough to recognize that you were in a slump, at least that’s what you liked to call it. Mental health was taboo in your home, your mother owning the belief that it was a social phenomena and you could handle feeling a little blue. You in turn felt you weren’t allow to feel what you did. 

You had tried explaining it to him once. Sometimes it was sadness, but other times you felt angry and you couldn’t think a single nice thought about those around you, one word from anyone and you were liable to snap. Then you felt guilt, deep and unending, it paired with your feelings of hopelessness and you cut yourself off from the world for a bit, unplugged. And then you shifted into a muddled pit of nothing. You had said that numb had been a good word but hollow was more accurate. 

Peter wished he could reach out and pull you out of that oppressive fog that enveloped you. You pulled yourself out of it, sometimes sooner rather than later but he worried a lot when months passed and you were still stewing. Your mom was completely anti-medication. It had it’s ups and downs of course, he wouldn’t claim to know what was best for you but you needed something dammit, it wasn’t your fault that your brain didn’t work like your mom’s. 

He let himself get easily worked up but tried to stay level headed, otherwise he’d shoot you a thousand and one text messages he knew you would read and vaguely reply to and then shut down again. He was a hero for god’s sake, he saved people all the time but you didn’t need saving, you just needed help and he wasn’t equipped with what you needed. 

So he did what any other hopeless friend would do. He grabbed his wallet, headed to the grocery store and picked out anything he thought you might even remotely like. You’d told him time and time again that you didn’t need that stuff, it didn’t’ help. But maybe if you had a new sweater to wear when you sat in your chilly room it would feel like you were getting a hug, maybe if you had a new water bottle you’d fill it up and put it on your bedside table so you remembered to drink something. Maybe if you had some brownies you’d remember that time you and Peter had tried making some in his apartment and Aunt May had come home to smoke and you two panicking and it would make you smile or even laugh.

It was three in the afternoon when Peter arrived at your door. The rain was still punishing the world for it’s sorrow. You certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone. Your mom usually didn’t come home until nearly eight most nights. Maybe she had ordered something and it was the post man. Sighing, you tossed your comforter off of you. Your mom would flay you if you left a package outside, especially if it was raining out. It was a talking to you didn’t want to be present for so you built up the energy to wrap your blanket over your shoulders and walk downstairs.

After padding across the chilled hardwood you opened the door to find no cardboard box shoved against the outer wall. Instead your friend was there with rain drop curled hair and damp clothes with two grocery bags in his hands. “Peter-” you started.

“Wait, wait, I know you don’t really want company now so can I please just drop some things off and then I’ll be gone? I just haven’t seen you except for you avoiding me in the halls at school... I get it, I do, you’re not really avoiding me. Sort of. Just, can I come in?” He rambled, afraid if he didn’t get out what he had to say in a short amount of time you’d slam the door in his face. 

You nodded and stepped to the side, opening the door wider for him. He was quite proud of his haul. A fuzzy blanket with smiling pumpkins and smirking witches, because Halloween was coming up and it was your favorite. A bag of milky ways, the dark chocolate kind because he knew you didn’t like milk chocolate. Some brownies, a pink water bottle that had flowers adorning it, a pair of fuzzy socks because you were always cold, and he’d even slipped in a big t-shirt of his an an old hoodie because whenever you visited you wanted to wear them.

“I don’t need all this stuff Peter, but thank you, really,” You spoke earnestly, dropping your head in shame as you ran your hands along the soft material of your new blanket. You were worrying your poor friend and he’d had to go out and waste his money on you and you hadn’t done anything for him, you were just a burden. 

“Hey, c’mon Y/N, I know that look, come here,” Peter said gently, opening his arms wide. You shuffled forward and wrapped your arms around his middle as he encased you in his warmth, holding you just tight enough that you felt safe but not tight enough to be suffocating. “I wanted to do this for you, okay? You didn’t make me, and I was happy to do it. Please just let yourself enjoy them, I promise it was no hassle at all,” 

You nodded and burrowed further into his hug, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. You shut your eyes tight, the damn breaking, flooding you with emotions. 

“Peter?” You croaked, “Can you please stay?”

He smiled and kissed the top of your head, his arms tightening and then letting go. He picked the bags off the floor in one hand and took your other hand in his. “Any time, I’m always here for you,” 

You smiled a little and squeezed his hand, leading him to your room where you crawled back into bed, setting up the pillows while Peter grabbed your laptop, picking some dorky 80s movie he knew you’d love. He disappeared just for a moment and came back with your hair brush. 

As the movie played you sat between his legs as he carefully slipped the hair tie out of your definitely greasy and snarled hair. He was patient and he didn’t stop until your hair was smoothed out. You were embarrassed and suddenly began to worry that you smelled or he could feel how greasy you’d let it get but he said nothing. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and you let yourself lean against him, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry-” You began.

“Don’t be, I missed you,” Peter interjected. 

He stayed all day long and into the night, holding you close to him. Peter’s warmth and light was beginning to scare off the dark that had swallowed you whole and you found you could breathe easier. 

“Thank you,” You sleepily mumbled, ghosting your lips against his jaw appreciatively. 

“No need to thank me, I’ve got you,” He spoke simply, hand secure at the small of your back. 

Sometimes you forgot that all you needed was a little company from your friendly, lovely, gentle, neighborhood spider-man. 

[maple-writes]

Super stoked about having the time lately to be able to write fairly regularly after work and things like that. I think this is the most regular my updates have ever been? We’ll see just how long that lasts.

-

“Hey, Asher. Can you wake up for me?”

           I opened my eyes slowly to Ginger crouching in front of me on the bathroom floor. Behind her, Striker and Cirrus stood worried in the doorway. My gaze drifted from Ginger to the two of them and my heart sunk. Striker looked like he’d been crying.

           Ginger glanced over her shoulder when she noticed me looking. “I think it’s best if you close the door and leave the two of us alone for now.” She spoke even and calm. “Wait downstairs and I’ll let you know when you can come up.”

           Striker nodded and turned away, nudging Cirrus to follow. He closed the door, the sound echoing across the hard surfaces of the bathroom. Then it was quiet again, just the two of us in the little room. She watched silently as I sat up, slow and disheveled. I shook out my head to try and clear the fog, and it helped, but only a little.

           “So,” Ginger almost whispered. “Heard you had a rough night.”

           What had Striker told her? I nodded. She was here, they would have told her as much as they could. There was no point in trying to lie.

           She nodded and drew a pink spiral memo book from her pocket, and a pen with glittery fish on the end “Can you tell me what happened?”

           Could I? I leaned back against the shower door. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “The last thing I remember was falling asleep downstairs and then I was in the park.” I stopped myself before I could mention the rabbit. Shame burned too hot, it’s hold too strong to admit what I might have done.

           “What about before that, when you got home.” Ginger pressed. “How were you then?”

           I shrugged. “Fine.” I paused, trying to bring the memory back through the fog in my head. “I mean, I was tired.”

           “Do you think you brought anything back with you from the mountain yesterday?”

           “No,” I shook my head. “I was okay.” I would have known if something had followed me home, right? “I was just, tired. I got home and I talked with Cirrus and I fell asleep.”

           Her pen scratched at the paper as she wrote, jotting something down with a blank face. I sighed, letting my eyes fall from her, resting on her bag by her side. It was open, as if she set it down in order to reach in and grab anything at a moment’s notice. I swallowed. Was I dangerous?

           She looked back up from her notebook. “So you wake up, then what?”

           “Cirrus found me and brought me home,” I hunched my shoulders. “We got home and…”

           I trailed off, bending my leg to rest my arm against the thigh. Shame flushed my face and I rubbed at my eyes. How was I supposed to tell her what happened? Ginger stayed quiet as I avoided looking directly at her, probably waiting for me to speak. She shouldn’t have had to come out here. What would she think of me now?

           Finally, she took a breath. “Your brother tells me you were acting strange.” She paused. “He said you were aggressive and he had to restrain you. Is that true?”

           I nodded, hanging my head. My throat tightened. What would I have done if Striker hadn’t held me down?

           “Listen Asher,” Ginger paused long enough for me to raise my head. “You’re not in trouble, alright? But people are worried about you, and frankly, I’m concerned too.” She set her notebook down and shifted backwards from her crouch to sit on the floor in front of me. “Your brother told me about your sister.”

           I stiffened, breath catching in my throat. My eyes widened and I swallowed. What did he tell her? She wasn’t going to go after Ember now, was she?

           She hesitated a moment, and my heart skipped. “He also told me about your father, and how you ran into him not too long ago.”

           My chest tightened. Why did he tell her that? I swallowed and pressed my back against the glass wall. How much did she know? Why wasn’t she saying anything? What was I supposed to say?

           She sighed, long and slow. “It was pretty serious, the encounter as he explained it to me.”

           “This wasn’t Vena.” I shook my head. “I would have felt it if it were.” Would have heard his mocking voice in my hear, taking over my thoughts along with my body. “And Ember stays outside of the city.”

           Ginger picked up her notebook again and jotted something down. “Fair enough.” She looked back up at me. “I just wish you’d at least told me about your run in with your father after it happened. You’re right in the sense that I don’t see any signs of something lingering on you, but that’s important for me to know.”

           I nodded, keeping my head down.

           She continued. “How are you feeling now?”

           Now? I shrugged. “I’m tired.” But… even then not as tired as I should have been, was I? “A little out of it I guess.” I paused, massaging the back of my neck with a long sigh. She watched so patiently, waiting for me to continue. “I…” I swallowed. “I feel awful, for what I did.” I buried my face in my hands, massaging my forehead with my thumbs. “I don’t know why I did that, I shouldn’t have done it, I don’t know what happened.”

           Ginger hmmed, her face softening. “Hey,” she leaned in, voice soft and gentle. “You weren’t yourself. I’m glad you still feel it was wrong though, otherwise I would have reason to be very concerned.” She braced herself on a bent knee and stood, towering above me. “I want you to get some rest, and I’m going to see if I can hang around here the rest of the day in case anything comes up. I’ll stay longer if you need it.”

           I dropped my hands, staring up at her. “No,” I shook my head as I hauled myself to my feet. My head went dizzy before adjusting to the new height. “I can’t, I can’t make you do that for me. I’ll be okay.”

           Ginger shrugged. “Well,” she grinned, the points of her fangs poking over her lip. “Once you’re asleep you can’t tell me off, so you don’t have a whole lot of choice in this matter.” She reached down and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’ve brought everything I’d need to work remotely anyway. I’m staying.”

           Before I could argue, she unlocked the bathroom door, pulled it open and made a sweeping gesture towards the hall. I hesitated, but what was the point? I wanted to sleep anyway, and it was clear she wouldn’t be swayed no matter what I said. All I could do was let Ginger usher me into bed.

#

When I woke up again, everything was soft and warm as the mid afternoon light seeping in through the half-open window. I yawned, turning over and twisting myself among the blankets. The horrors of the night felt so far away now, already a faded memory in the back of my mind. I was dry, and warm, and maybe even safe.

           I sat up with another yawn. My shoulders popped as I stretched my arms high above my head and the floor cooled the bottoms of my feet. I paused before standing, nerves starting to coil around my chest like a constricting snake. I’d have to say something to everyone when I got downstairs. What would I say? Was there anything I could? I hunched my shoulders and took a deep breath. Putting it off would only make it worse.

           My limbs moved stiff as I made my way downstairs. The hall and the stairway seemed so much longer than usual. It was quiet at the bottom, soft voices coming from the living room.

           I stopped before the doorframe, fingers twisting and working their way into the fabric of my pants. Nerves tightened my muscles, but I forced myself to breathe. Better now than never.

           I steeled my nerves and stepped into the living room. Sitting around he coffee table with playing cards in hand, Ginger, Cirrus, and Striker looked up from their game.

           Striker threw his cards down and leapt from his spot on the couch, and in a heartbeat he’d thrown his arms around me in a rib-crushing hug, tight enough for me to feel his heartbeat through his chest. Wherever his skin touched mine a soup of emotions seeped into my blood; tight worry, soft relief, sharp affection. I melted, resting my head on his warm shoulder.

           Slowly, his grip loosened and he pulled away. “Are you okay?”

           I nodded, eyes cast down. I couldn’t look him in the eye, shame and guilt overpowering the relief that tried to push through.

           He hesitated a moment, then draped his arm around my shoulders to guide me towards the living room couches. I sat down, slouching forward as he settled in beside me. Across the table, Cirrus tried to catch my eye, but quickly gave up when I kept my head down.

           The heavy quiet seemed to drag on far too long before Ginger cleared her throat and leaned forward.

           “Good morning sleepyhead.” She teased. “How are you feeling?”

           I sighed, shoulders weighed down by the guilt crushing my lungs. “I…” I swallowed. “I’m so sorry.”

           Striker ducked his head down to my level. “Hey,” he spoke soft, gentle. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You scared me.”

           “I don’t know what happened.”

           Ginger shrugged. “Well, we can’t yet be sure either, it could…” She trailed off, eyes darting to the corners of their sockets as she thought. She frowned for a moment before resting her eyes back on me. “We can’t know for sure what happened yet, or if it even relates at all to the paranormal.” She shrugged again. “For all we know it could have been something mental, in which case that’s outside my expertise. I’ve got a handful of people I could set you up with if you find you need them though.”

           I nodded, slowly letting my head come up. She looked down at me, eyes soft but concern barely hidden behind her long lashes. By my side, Striker leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees

           “So,” his voice wavered. “You think he’s going to be okay?”

           Ginger hesitated, then sighed. “I mean,” she let herself sink back down into the couch. “I can’t—I’m not a doctor, I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m an exorcist. I’m not getting the sense that he’s possessed right now, but I wasn’t there.” Her face fell. “The best thing I can say is that I’m not sure, and he might want to make a follow up appointment with someone if it happens again. That being said, don’t be afraid to call me again if you think you need me.”

           “Thanks.” Striker gives a weak smile. “And thanks for coming out on such short notice.”

           Ginger returned the smile as she rose from the couch. “Don’t mention it. It was nice to meet the both of you.” She nodded her head at the cards on the table. “And I think that’s another win for me.”

           Cirrus blinked, his face dropping into a mock scowl. “How did you..?”

           “Oh,” Ginger twirled a strand of her long blond hair. “You pick up a thing or two in 50 years.” Her hand stilled with a coy smile. “Invite me back and maybe I’ll teach you a few things.”

           He muttered something under his breath and rolled his eyes as she turned towards me and Striker again.

           “Seriously though, Asher,” Her tone dropped. “Let me know if something’s not right. I don’t want to see you hurt.” I nodded, and her smile returned. “Good. I’ll be in touch then.”

           We exchanged good byes, and she slipped out the door in to the now dusk light, plunging the room into quiet broken only by the soft sounds of cards slipping against each other as Cirrus gathered them up into their little box.

           Striker’s hand on my shoulder made me jump, looking up as he stood beside me. His hand was warm, even though the fabric of my shirt. It was solid, real. I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, forcing a deep breath into my chest.

           “I’m going to make you some soup.” He said. “Then I think we should watch a movie or something.”

           I nodded, but words failed me. It sounded nice, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak though the weight on my chest. Striker didn’t seem to mind though, returning my nod with a gentle smile and a pat on the shoulder before turning and disappearing into the kitchen.

#

That night, sleep came quickly until something tapping at my window woke me. I groaned, sitting up and squinting towards the darkened window. Another tap. Something, a pebble maybe, hit the glass and dropped out of sight. Curiosity drove me from my bed, creeping across the floor to peer out the window to the street below.

           I gasped. Staring up from the sidewalk was Ember, with her arching horns and glowing red eyes. Her gaze met mine and I hurried down the stairs. She’d never come into the city before.

           The night air bit at my skin as I staggered out the door in shoes slipped hastily on without a moment to throw on socks before. I shuffled out to the sidewalk just in time to see her duck into a nearby laneway. When I followed her, she was waiting. Heat and power and energy sloughed off her in waves, prickling across my skin like I’d leaned too near a campfire’s edge. She kept her distance though, stepping back when I got too close.

           “Asher,” she smiled, sharp, glass-like teeth reflecting the orange of the streetlamps. “Sorry to wake you.”

           “What’s up?” I folded my arms, wrapping them tight around my body to try and protect against the night breeze. It didn’t work.

           She shifted from side to side, swaying like the wavering of a candle flame. “Is Striker home?”

           I nodded. “He’s sleeping.” I blinked and straightened my back. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind waking up if it meant seeing you.”

           “No no no,” Ember shook her head and raised her hands. The energy buzzed faster, ringing in my ears and echoing through the hollow spaces of my chest. “No, that’s not why I…” She dropped her hands and huffed. “That’s not why I ask.”

           Oh? I cocked my head, worry starting to knot in my gut. Whether it was from my own anticipation or the feelings rubbing off of her, I couldn’t tell. I hoped it was my own fear. It wasn’t like Ember to worry, not to the degree that this tension crept across my body.

           She blinked, long and slow, and my heart sank at how sunken her eyes looked in the low light. “I, I was talking with Vena the other day and—”

           “Vena?” Oh no, he had found her. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” My voice went tight, my arms unfolding as I tried to see if she was injured.

           But she only stood tall, eyebrows furrowing. “No, no I’m fine. Why would he hurt me?”

           A gust of wind blew down the laneway and I shivered, hunching in on myself. I stared at her, my expression matching hers. “What, what do you mean?”

           “I don’t know,” She dusted the tips of her claws over her cheek. Her hand stopped suddenly, her eyes stretching wide. “Wait, did he hurt you?”

           My hand went to my neck where he’d grabbed me, and I swallowed.

           Rage flooded from Ember, her eyes burning bright in the low light. “What did he do to you?” She growled, claws flexing in the empty air at her sides. “What did he do Asher!” She took a step forward and I shrank back, bracing against the energy threatening to fill my lungs and drown my body.

           I half turned away, flinching as she approached. “He surprised me, and he got mad at me when I didn’t want to listen to me. He strangled me on the beach and—” I took a quick breath. “I thought he was going to kill me. He hurt my friend too when he made him stop.”

           “Bastard,” Ember’s spat the word. Her hands clenched to fists and she snarled, but froze when she noticed my cowering. “I,” She stepped back and held her arms out in front her. “Sorry, sorry.”

           The torrent slowed and I gasped for fresh breath. My legs shook as I brought myself to face her again.

           “I can’t believe he did that to you,” Ember kicked at a loose patch of asphalt, head down and glowering. “He was nothing like that with me. Nothing like that.” She opened her mouth to speak more, but shook her head instead. “But I, that’s not why I’m here.”

           She wrung her hands out in front of her, fidgeting and swaying on her feet. Nerves bundled in my chest. Whatever she was here for couldn’t have been good, why else would she make her way all through the city?

           She craned her neck, peering around me through to the street behind my back. “It’s Striker.” She hushed her voice. “Vena, he’s been talking about him. Calling him all kinds of names, saying how easy he would be to take over and… Break.”

           I shuddered, ice crawling cold over my skin. My heart raced in my throat, pounding and hammering against the bone. He’d said something like that before, when Riku died. I glanced back over my shoulder. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t fight Vena, not even if it was to save Striker.

           “I don’t know how serious he was,” Ember muttered. “But I…” She turned away. “I couldn’t just not tell you, so maybe, you can keep an eye on him. At least for now.”

           I shivered, but only partly from the cold. “Ember, I,” I shook my head. “I can’t do anything, not against Vena.”

           “Well I don’t know what to do either.” She lowered her voice. “He might listen to me, but I don’t know.” She paused, eyes shifting side to side in the low light. “I’ll try. I just don’t know—”

           Ember’s head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at something behind me. My heart leapt as I whirled, but it was only Cirrus. He stood by the opening of the laneway, staring wide eyed at my sister. Tension thickened the air and I swallowed with a glance at Ember. Her claws were curved at her sides, heat seeping from her body.

           I held out my hands, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I pointed to Cirrus. “He’s my friend.”

           She shifted. “What’s he doing here?”

           “I heard Asher leave.” Cirrus crossed his arm and raised his chin, meeting Ember’s stare with cold eyes. “Who are you?” His face twisted to a snarl. “Hurt him and I’ll—”

           “Cirrus it’s okay,” I turned to him now with arms outstretched. “It’s just my sister.” My hands trembled, caught between their two opposing energies that buzzed across my skin and tightened around my chest.

           Neither looked away, staring each other down over my head. I swallowed. Please don’t do anything rash. I couldn’t let them fight, but what could I do to stop them if they did?

           But then Cirrus uncrossed his arms and leaned against the side of someone’s garage and I breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Slowly, Ember’s shoulders sagged as the tension eased from her muscles.

           She pointed at Cirrus. “What were you doing at my brother’s house so late at night?” Her bright eyes flickered to me with a sharp grin. “When were you going to tell me?”

           I blinked, confused until I glanced back at Cirrus. His eyes widened, face flushing red. He pushed off from the wall and stammered, too flustered to sort out a proper sentance.

           “Oh,” I turned back to Ember. “No, Cirrus just lives with us.” I smiled, grateful for how the tension seemed to dissipate from the air. “It’s a long story.”

           “Well, you seem to have everything under control,” Cirrus stumbled over his words, turning towards the main street. “Don’t stay out too long.”

           Before I could say anything, he’d slipped away and disappeared around the side of lane. I frowned. Was it Ember? Maybe she reminded him too much of Vena?

           Ember’s soft laughter brought my attention back to her. She smiled, warm eyes shining. “He’s funny.”

           “He’s uh,” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “He’s not usually like that.” But I wouldn’t be surprised if he were a little more skittish after all that’d happened in the last week and half.

           The sound of a car coming down the main road made her look up, pupils shrinking to slits as the edges of passing headlights spilled into the lane. Then as soon as it was gone, it was silent again. A yawn crept up on me, too quickly for me to stop it. I hadn’t checked the time before come out to here.

           Ember smiled, but it stopped at her mouth. “He’s probably right though, I’ve kept you up long enough.”

           My shoulders fell. I didn’t want her to leave, not when she’d finally worked up the nerve to make her way through the city, but at the same time my body felt heavy as my eyelids.

           “You could come inside if you want,” I rolled a loose pebble under the toe of my shoe. “I could cook you something, you could take a warm shower, stay the rest of the night…”

           Ember hesitated, jaw tightening and just the briefest flashes of longing crossing behind her eyes before she looked away. “I don’t know Ash.” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. I can’t…”

           “Ember—”

           “Sorry.” She turned away. “Tell Striker I’m sorry too.”

           I took a step toward her but then she was gone, darting off into the night like she’d never been here in the first place. A weight landed heavy on my chest. Damn it.

[friendelius-writes]

Through the Window |:| Tom Holland

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: As Tom's new neighbor, [Y/N] didn't know that a look through his window costed them lots.

A/N: Low-key a bit creepy, but hey, I would be curious too. (This is my first official fanfic on this blog! Thank you so much for reading~)

Written by @friendelius-writes

Warnings: Guns, swearing, some violence, angst??

NOT MY GIF

It was a tough two months at [Y/N]'s new home as everything was, well, new. They were completely alone in this new, clean, neighborhood for the first time.

For a while, they didn't know what to do as they were used to hot dinners and nagging, but now, they've been stuck with frozen dinners and the sound of loneliness blasted across the house. Wanting to scratch that itch of going home diminished after meeting their next-door neighbor, Tom Holland.

During a cozy, summer morning while [Y/N] was setting their garden, he was the first person to introduce himself to them. The simple interraction made them feel welcomed and known in this unexplored territory. Now and then, if [Y/N] was outside at the same time as him, Tom would simply make small-talk with [Y/N] before being swallowed by his home.

However, something was tugging in [Y/N]'s mind about him. From generic observations, they have never seen anyone going in nor out of that house besides Tom. Most of his windows were crystal clear and displayed furniture in the room, but [Y/N] hasn't caught sight of that brown-haired male. [Y/N] assumed it was because he's busy, but the amount of time [Y/N] spent at home looking through his windows proved otherwise.

He seemed to be invisible for most of the day as [Y/N] seen no sight of him until those rare moments where he leaves his house and starts up his fancy car [Y/N] doesn't know the brand of. They've never seen Tom return, but he's leaving the house again in a few days. All his groceries were delivered to the back of his house and were always gone by morning. A gardener came once a week as well as someone from the cleaning department.

Once, on a warm, summer evening, with the darkening sky speckled with faint white, [Y/N] was slurping a smoothie as they gazed at the blaring television. The AC was blasting, and [Y/N] was snugged into a reclining chair. A commercial for the next big oven invention was dancing off the white walls, and the smooth hum of the microwave warming their T.V. dinner was the added touch.

Once the microwave chimed, a black van slowed right in front of Tom's house. While rising to grab her T.V. dinner, [Y/N] spectated the van through the kitchen window and observed two men dragging along another person towards the front door with another man dressed in a suit following behind. [Y/N] didn't catch a glimpse of the person, but [Y/N] immediately snatched their chicken nugget dinner and sat back down to watch it unfold. This could reveal more about him.

Bashes at the door alerted Tom, so, he swung the door open and, immediately, confusion jumped onto his face as he glanced between the well-dressed men.

"Why the hell are you here?" Tom demanded as he ushered the men inside in case any prying eyes were watching.

Once [Y/N] shut the television off, they maintain focus on the show unfolding before them as they finally see Tom Holland interact with human life. Unfortunately, they couldn't hear a thing, so they resorted in making up their own dialogue in their head, totally oblivious of the truth.

"We're sorry, mate," started one of the men, "but this little pipsqueak," he gestured to the cowering man, "was so fucking adamant about seeing you about his debt."

"You weren't picking up your goddamn phone, Tom," the other man added quickly with a sprinkle of irritation in his voice. Tom's jaw tensed and shoved his hands into his fluffed hair.

"Well, maybe, Sam, I fucking was purposefully ignoring to get a good night's sleep."

"It's, like, eight o'clock! Why are you fucking sleeping when you could be out having fun with the ladies?"

"Well, maybe, Harry, I'm tired," with a faint growl, Tom rubbed his face roughly, "how many times have I told you to not fucking appear at my fucking house when it's about work?! For all I know, someone could fucking be watching right now!" The twins rolled their eyes simultaneously, and Harry shoved the frighten man towards Tom.

"Just deal with him quickly, then," Harry spat. Tom ran his tongue against his bottom teeth, tightening his jaw. With arms wrapped around himself, he sighed of defeat and faced Harrison.

"I assume you have his file, Haz?" Harrison grinned as he whipped out the manila folder.

"Of course! Did you think I'd come empty-handed?" Tom seized the thin folder and opened it to glance at its contents. Once his eyes laid upon the man's history, Tom tutted and leisurely ambled towards the man who instantly found the pattern in the carpet more interesting.

"Oh, Chase Walker, what am I gonna do?" Tom slapped the folder shut and clutched Chase's chin to snap his head upwards.

"You are here because you wanted to see me, but as I clearly see in the database that you were supposed to return that 250 grand you borrowed from me," he released Chases's chin with a thrust and handed the folder back to Harrison, "the task was simple: get me that 250 grand by today." Chase's eyes wavered as he glanced at Tom and clasped his hands together after dropping onto his knees.

"Pl-Please, I beg you. I-I've only got a hun-hundred grand. I need more time! The re-recent tests on my wife are co-costly! Our insurance—"

"I don't care about your fucking problem!" As if on cue, Harrison handed him a piece of paper with scribbles at the bottom. Tom shoved the paper towards Chase's face.

"Do you not remember this? This was the damn contract you signed, indicating when you'll return the money." Chase shattered as his hot cheeks felt wet while feeling like he was being suffocated in a plastic bag, choking on his words.

"B-but I—"

"No 'but's," Tom tossed the contract to the side and eyed the twins, "take him upstairs to my office." The twins complied and hauled Chase up the carpeted steps.

"Where are they going?!" Exclaimed [Y/N] as they noticed they moved to somewhere else. Hurling their dish onto the table, they shot up and waited to see where they'll be by the windows. They caught sight of the five walking along the second floor through the wide window and then disappeared. For quite sometime, [Y/N] didn't notice them until they saw a barely noticeable Tom far from the window. Where Tom was, [Y/N]'s equivalent was standing in front of their bedroom window. Assessing the situation, their eyes widened and their hand rapidly covered their mouth that flung open at what was in Tom's hands.

"N-no! Wh-what are you doing?! Don't shoot me, I beg you," Chase crawled along the floor and gripped Tom's legs, wailing and pleading to let him live, "please! I'll do anything!" But Tom simply ignored him. He let Chase beg; he let Chase scratch his legs; he let Chase suffer knowing he's going to die.

"Harrison, throw me that silencer over there." Harrison tossed a slick, black, cylindrical silencer to Tom, and Tom caught it right before screwing it onto the front of his pistol. With Chase's cries slowing down, knowing it's not going to do anything, Tom kicked him off and aimed right between Chase's eyes. Once Chases's eyes started to water again, Tom pulled back the safety and pulled the trigger.

With a heavy sigh, he turned around and instantly noticed a figure right across at the neighboring house. His face hardened as [Y/N] realized he saw them. With fear bubbling inside them, they ran as far as they could to reach their phone downstairs. Tom swiveled to the men in the room, and pointed to the window.

"We've been spotted. Catch the person nextdoor, and bring them here!" Ordered Tom as the men sprinted out the door with no delay.

[Y/N] snatched their phone and dialled the police while running out the back door, hoping to get to their vehicle quickly.

"What's your emerg—" [Y/N]'s phone cracked against the ground as another tackled them. Harrison stomped onto [Y/N]'s phone as Sam forced them up while keeping a firm arm around their mouth to prevent loud noise.

[Y/N] whirled around in Sam's arms as Sam kept his stance and hauled [Y/N] towards Tom's house as quickly as possible. Inaudible sounds escaped [Y/N]'s mouth as their arms continuously pulled Sam's arm away from their mouth. Clearly, Sam was stronger than [Y/N], but they didn't give up anyway because anything was better than nothing.

[Y/N] was thrown onto the carpeted floor in the blood-splattered room and caught sight of the dead man lying against the chair. [Y/N] felt their stomach turn inside out and gagged at the image. They turned their head around to avoid it.

"Well, [Y/N]. How much did you see?" Tom's sickly soft voice penetrated [Y/N]'s brain that gave warnings that this guy just murdered a man in his own house. They looked up but refused to make eye contact with the murderer.

"Everything," [Y/N] announced with venom soaked in it. Tom threw his head back as a throaty laugh echoed in the soiled room.

"Pity. You've started to grow on me," informed Tom in a faux sweet tone. He took a few steps back and pointed the gun at their head.

"Sweet dreams."

And he pulled the trigger.

[mhalachai]

Hands of Clay Outtake: The Proposal

Summary: Steve is about to propose to Bucky - what could possibly go wrong?

posted on AO3 if you want to read it there; it’s over 5,000 words so yeah long.

(eta: I know the formatting is messed up on dashboards; just click the readmore and it will be fine. tumblr is a disaster)

Set after Natasha asks Steve to adopt her and also after Clint gets the dog.

Steve checked the time on his phone. Quarter to ten on a Tuesday night, and the house was quiet. The kids were in bed, the dog was asleep in the kitchen, Bucky was in his office finishing up on some work. And Steve was about to embark on the most important mission of his life.

He was going to ask Bucky to marry him.

“You can do this,” he said to himself under his breath. “Everything’s ready to go.”

Or was it?

Steve pulled a piece of ragged paper out of his pocket and ran down the list. A place to sit, check. Steve had snuck home one day when he had known Bucky was up in Queens for work, taken delivery of the two-seat outdoor bench and two sturdy chairs from the furniture company, and hauled it all up four flights of stairs to the roof before hurrying off back to work again. and Bucky had been none the wiser.

Candles. Another check. Sort of. It was late June but it was pretty dry, so Steve had compromised on his vision of a hundred tiny candles by stringing up yard after yard of fairy lights along the edges of some cheap wooden latticing he had arranged behind the new furniture. It looked pretty crappy in the daylight, but Steve was hoping that the darkness and the surprise would hide all that from Bucky.

Flowers. Steve had thought about flowers, having read that any good proposal should have lots of flowers, but since a) Bucky didn’t care for flowers and b) Steve could have flown the four of them to Disneyworld for what he would have to pay for a really good floral engagement spread, he had skipped the difference and hauled four little potted trees up to the roof to arrange d around the furniture. Even if the proposal was a complete disaster and Bucky turned him down, Steve figured they could put the trees in the backyard for the dog to pee on.

Fire. The small contained outdoor fireplace was all ready as the centrepiece of the set-up, only needing Steve to set a match to the kindling. Steve was hoping the fire would be a metaphor for him and Bucky, their love burning bright… And not for all Steve’s hopes and dreams going up in smoke if Bucky turned him down.

Champagne. Check. Steve had smuggled the bottle home in his backpack, shoved it into the downstairs fridge while Bucky was helping the kids with some year-end math homework, and then ran it up to the roof with some ice while everyone was cleaning up after dinner.

His absence had earned him scornful reproof from Natasha, whose night it had been to be dinner chef, and a long suspicious look from Bucky.

No matter. It wasn’t as if Bucky could suspect what Steve was really up to.

Steve looked at the last item on his list. Ring. It was nestled in a little ring bag in his pocket; a narrow silver band without any markings or adornments, save for a small engraving on the inside - Steve & Bucky forever. Sure, it was sappy, but this whole damned thing was sappy.

Even thinking about it made Steve feel warm. This was it. After all these years, after they had been through so much together - Steve was going to ask Bucky to marry him.

If only he could be certain that Bucky would say yes.

“Steve.”

Steve jumped, startled. Bucky had come out of his office and was staring at him. Steve shoved his list back into his pocket and tried to look innocent. If anything, it made Bucky’s frown deepen. “Yeah?”

“Why are you standing around like a dope?” Bucky asked. “You going up to bed any time soon?”

“Yes!” Wait, no, that was wrong. “No.”

Bucky blinked. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve was aware that he was grinning, but he didn’t really have any control over his face. Come on, Rogers, get your shit under control. “Actually, you done?”

Bucky reached back into the office to turn out the light. “Just finished. You want to watch some TV before bed?”

Here it was, the perfect opening. Steve straightened up and said, “How about you come upstairs with me? I got something I wanna show you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “On a Tuesday?” he said. “ ‘Cause I already seen all of what you got to show me.”

Steve made a face. “Not that. Come on.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bucky went into the kitchen to check the locks, then came back into the living room and headed over to the front door. Steve waited, familiar with Bucky’s routine of locking up the house. Bucky gave the door a quick check, then went to the alarm panel.

Steve only realized his mistake when Bucky went rigid. “What the hell?” Bucky said under his breath. He looked up to the ceiling, and Steve had to dive forward to catch Bucky’s hand before he hit the button on the alarm panel to call the alarm company.

“It’s okay,” Steve said in a hurry. “I turned off the alarm on the door to the roof. It was me.” He let go of Bucky’s arm and took a step back.

Bucky looked at him, his face pale and set with the beginning of alarm. “Why?” His voice was lower than usual, and the sound grated up Steve’s spine.

Stomach churning, Steve said, “I have a surprise for you. On the roof.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “Okay.” He took another breath before running his hand over his face. “Okay. Just… Okay.”

Steve waited while Bucky worked his way back down from the scare, his heart sinking. He couldn’t go through with it now, not after he’d spooked Bucky so bad. He would wait for another day, when Bucky wasn’t so on edge.

And of course, Steve’s luck being what it was, Bucky took this moment to say, “All right, show me.”

“Uh.” Steve’s brain blanked on him. “Uh, I can’t.”

Bucky’s eyebrows went up. “You got a surprise for me on the roof and you ain’t gonna show it to me?”

“No.”

There was a beat, then Bucky turned towards the stairs. “Yeah, you are.”

“Bucky, wait,” Steve said in an urgent low whisper as he climbed the stairs before Bucky. He was painfully aware that the children were asleep in their beds. “No, it’s the wrong time for it. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Bucky kept walking, his stride resolute. “You think I ain’t going onto my own damned roof after all this, you got another think coming.” He turned up the next flight of stairs. “You comin’ or not?”

Steve put his hand in his pocket, feeling the ring there, and suddenly all of his hesitation left him. Steve & Bucky forever, no matter what. “I got your back.”

It only took them a few seconds to get to the door that led to the roof. Steve put his hand on the door handle before Bucky could open it. Bucky turned around. “What?”

“I have to go up first,” Steve said. He’d need a few minutes to start the fire and make sure everything was ready. “You wait here.”

Bucky stared at him, his eyes dark and wide in the dim hallway. “What kind of surprise is this, anyway?” he asked.

“It’s gonna be great.” Steve hesitated for a moment, then ducked in to press a quick kiss against Bucky’s lips. “Just stay here until I come get you.”

There was no turning back now. Riding on a wave of adrenaline, Steve pulled open the door, remembered one final detail he hadn’t written down, rushed down the hall to his art studio to retrieve the small fire extinguisher he kept there, and hurried back. Bucky’s expression went from confused to concerned as he watched Steve go. “Why do you need that?” Bucky demanded, but Steve was hurrying up the stairs.

“Stay there!” Steve called back down after him, and went out onto the roof.

Everything was right where he’d left it, with the fairy lights aglow from when he’d plugged them in when he’d brought up the champagne. He dashed over to the small fireplace, set the fire extinguisher within reach, just in case, then fumbled for the matches. The breeze helped the paper to catch the flame, and in a few seconds the kindling was crackling merrily. Steve carefully closed the metal screen, stood up to check on the chilling champagne, turned around, and froze.

Bucky was standing in the roof-top doorway.

Steve’s stomach fluttered. “I thought I told you to wait for me,” he said weakly.

Bucky’s stunned expression gave way to exasperation. “You run up onto my roof with a fire extinguisher, and you really thought I was going to stand around and twiddle my thumb?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky shook his head. “What’s all this, anyway?” he asked as he crunched over the gravel. “Where did all this shit come from?”

“Hauled it up myself,” Steve informed him, reaching out a hand. Bucky took it and squeezed, letting Steve pull them together. “It’s a good thing I spend all that time in the gym, otherwise you’d have come home to find me lying underneath a potted tree at the foot of the stairs.”

Bucky edged into Steve’s side, out of the evening breeze. “Well, you didn’t do half-bad,” he said after a minute. “This… it’s like another world.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s cheek, relieved beyond measure. “I’m glad you like it.”

“That fire thing is neat.” Bucky leaned against Steve for a while, looking around, taking it all in. Steve let himself enjoy the moment, of being so close to the man he loved, knowing there was nothing in the world that could come between them.

After a while, Bucky shifted his weight, and Steve was reminded that he had something left to do. Pulling back, Steve said, “Come on, let’s get closer to the fire.”

“Sure.” Bucky let Steve pull him over to the fireplace. He slowed, then pulled his hand out of Steve’s to touch the champagne bottle chilling in its little bucket. “Uh, Steve? What’s this all about?”

Steve took in a deep breath to steady himself. It was time. “Bucky, there’s something that I wanted to ask you,” he began, then stopped.

He’d forgotten the music. All his preparation for this moment, and he’d forgotten to pick some music to play in the background.

“Shit, shit,” he cursed under his breath, digging in his pocket for his phone.

“Steve.”

“Hang on, I just have to find some music,” Steve said frantically, scrolling through his playlists. All he could see was his work-out music mixed in with the kids’ tracks. None of that was romantic at all.

“Steve.” Bucky put his hand over Steve’s phone. “Steve, hey.” Steve looked up. “Whatever you’re going to ask me, you don’t need music. Trust me.”

“Okay.” Steve glanced back at his phone hesitantly, then slipped it into his left pocket. Reaching into his right pocket, he pulled out the small ring bag. “Bucky.”

Bucky had gone very still, his eyes wide. He was so beautiful that Steve wanted to stop and kiss him, but if he didn’t get the proposal out soon, he might lose all his nerve.

“Bucky,” Steve started again. He had been practicing his speech for a week, had known it by heart, and suddenly wasn’t sure if he was going to remember what he wanted to say. “You and me, we’ve been through a lot together. And, uh, I love you.”

He opened the drawstring on the little bag, hooked out the ring, and fumbled, nearly dropping it to the ground. By some small bit of luck, he caught the ring before it went flying.

“Okay,” he said to steady his pounding heart. He held up the ring, the silver surface catching the firelight and the glint from the fairy lights all around them. “Bucky. I love you and… and you’re my entire life. I think I was looking my whole life for the kind of family that I got here with you and the kids.”

A lump was rising in his throat, and Steve could feel tears in the corners of his eyes. He had prepared for every step of this proposal, but he hadn’t realized how real it would all feel, standing on the roof of their Brooklyn brownstone in the early summer evening, surrounded by lights, with Bucky.

“And…” Steve had to stop for a moment, staring down at the ring. “And I know we never talked about getting married, but I never want to be anywhere else.” He dragged his eyes up to look at Bucky. “You and me, we’re forever. And I wanted to ask you…” Steve remembered now to hold up the ring. “James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Bucky’s voice was almost a whisper. He blinked hard, then reached up to wipe away tears. “Yes, Steven Grant Rogers, I’ll marry you. As long as you’ll marry me too.”

Euphoria and happiness flooded through Steve. He wanted to whoop, to shout to the whole neighbourhood. The best guy in the whole world was going to be his husband.

“Come on,” Bucky said when Steve just stood there. “Did you buy that ring for show or are you gonna stick it on me?”

“Right.” Steve took Bucky’s hand in his and gently slid the ring onto his ring finger. “What do you think?”

Bucky looked at the ring, made a loose fist, then straightened his hand. “I think I wanna know how you knew my ring size.”

“Remember how we were drawing those Easter crafts where we had to draw out our hands?” Steve asked.

Bucky made a face. “I knew that was too junior for the kids.” He frowned suddenly at Steve. “Wait, you’ve been planning this since April?”

“Bucky, I’ve been planning this since I met you again.”

As expected, Bucky rolled his eyes. “He gets shot in the face by my daughter’s nerf gun and he’s planning to propose,” Bucky said to the sky. “Still. Now I gotta get you a ring.”

“If you want to.”

“I want to.” Bucky put his hand on Steve’s cheek, his expression going soft. “Steve, I thought…. I thought you were the kind of guy who’d never want to get married.”

Steve slid his hands around to Bucky’s back, holding him close. “Until I met you, I was the kind of guy who didn’t want to get married. But you…” He leaned in to kiss Bucky, their first kiss as fiancés. It was as mind-blowing as Steve had hoped. When they finally broke for air, Steve went on. “You’re the guy I want to spend my life with, in every way.”

Bucky was glowing with happiness, and Steve wondered suddenly if they could get married tomorrow. No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

Maybe that weekend.

The wood in the fire crackled gently. Reluctantly, Steve pulled out of Bucky’s embrace. “How about some champagne to celebrate?”

“Or…” Bucky gestured around them. “I know this might sound dumb, but this is all so great, how about we go get the kids and celebrate together?”

“The kids,” Steve repeated. “It’s past ten. On a school night.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “So? It’s one time. It’s not like we’re ever going to get engaged again.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. It would be nice for the kids to see the whole set-up in the dark, and to share the news. “I could run down to the kitchen to get some soda or something for them,” he suggested.

Bucky smiled, a wide gleaming smile. “I’ll run down, get that and their shoes. You can go wake up the little monsters.”

“Sure, send me in,” Steve groused. “Shouldn’t I get hazard pay for this?”

“Go.” Bucky slapped Steve on the butt, and Steve caught him and swung him into another kiss. When they emerged, Bucky looked a little stunned, but he blinked it off. “I’m only marrying you because you’re a good kisser,” he informed Steve as they headed for the stairs.

“You’re also marrying me because I make you coffee in bed on Sundays,” Steve said.

They clattered down two flights of stairs before separating, Bucky heading for the kitchen and Steve going down the hall to the children’s rooms. He went into Clint’s room first, where his son was zonked out in a sprawl across his bed.

“Clint,” Steve called as he switched on the bedside lamp. “Clint, buddy, wake up.”

Clint groaned.

“Clint.” Steve sat on the edge of the bed and shook Clint’s shoulder gently. “We’ve got a surprise up on the roof. Come on.”

Clint rolled onto his back and blinked, wincingly, up at his father. “What?” he asked and signed at the same time. Then he signed, tired.

Steve handed Clint his glasses. “It’s a surprise,” he said and signed. “Put on your hoodie and come on, we’ll see upstairs.”

With a groan, Clint sat up and reached for his hearing aid. Steve waited until Clint was on his feet before going down the hall to Natasha’s room. The girl was apparently asleep, but when Steve turned on her bedside lamp, her eyes snapped open.

“What’s wrong?” she asked blearily.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve said as he knelt by her bedside. “Your dad and me, we got a surprise for you on the roof.”

Natasha blinked hard. “Is it a dragon?”

“Nope. Come on, get up.”

Natasha levered herself upright, taking the offered sweatshirt from Steve’s hand and following him into the hallway where Clint was only now appearing. As they emerged, Bucky bounded up the stairs, somehow holding the kids’ shoes against his body with his left arm stump and a bottle of soda with two mugs in his right hand. “Put your shoes on, kids, the roof is sharp.”

Clint stumbled into his shoes, but Natasha planted her bare feet on the ground and glared up at her father. “Dad, it’s late,” she complained.

Bucky patted her shoulder with his left arm. “Some of the most magical things in life happen late at night,” he said. “Shoes.”

With a huff, Natasha stepped into her shoes. Steve held out his hands and led the children along in Bucky’s wake. Clint was dragging, but Natasha’s grip grew tighter with every step up the stairs.

“Are there ghosts?” Natasha whispered to Steve.

“No ghosts,” Steve reassured her. “That’s not the kind of surprise we’d spring on you in the dark.”

Clint let out a fake snore as they climbed the final stairs to the roof.

“Here we are,” Bucky said, and pushed open the door. He stood aside to let the children take in the full view.

Natasha’s jaw dropped, and Clint’s eyes opened wide. “Wow,” Natasha breathed. “It’s a fairy land!”

Excellent! Clint signed, then said, “So cool!”

“Let’s go over and sit down,” Steve said. He gently guided the children over to the loveseat. “We’re going to celebrate something really neat, all as a family.”

Clint tried to bounce on the cushion, while Natasha let out a big yawn. “What’s that?” she asked.

Bucky set the soda and mugs down, then knelt in front of the children. “Kids, Steve and I have some big news we want to share with you,” he said.

Natasha yawned again. “Are we getting a cat?” she asked hopefully.

“No, you’re still allergic to cats,” Bucky said automatically. “It’s that…” He looked up at Steve.

Steve knelt down beside Bucky. He took Bucky’s hand, and held it up to the light. “Kids, it’s like this,” he began. “I asked Bucky to marry me, and he said yes.”

Clint stopped bouncing and stared, his mouth open. Natasha, on the other hand, who had reacted so badly when they had told her they were dating, all those years ago, just yawned again.

“Getting married?” Clint squeaked. “For real?”

“For real,” Steve confirmed.

Natasha, rubbing her eyes, got off the loveseat and went over to drape herself over her father’s shoulder. “Is Steve still going to adopt me?” she asked.

“Of course he is, sweet pea,” Bucky said. He hugged his daughter. “We’re going to be a family forever.”

“And now,” Steve said, reaching for the champagne bottle, “Let’s celebrate.”

While Steve popped the cork, Bucky got the children their half-glass each of lemon-lime soda. They all settled onto the loveseat with their glasses, squished in together to stave off the breeze.

Clint was full of a thousand excited questions. Are we going to have a party? Can I dress up? Will there be food? Can we dance? Can Mom come? Can we invite Skye? Can I carry the rings? Will there be cake? Will there be two cakes?

In the meantime, Natasha was blinking sleepily on Bucky’s lap, staring at the fire. When Clint stopped to chug his soda, Bucky nudged at Natasha. “What are you thinking about, Nat?”

Natasha rubbed at her eyes. “You guys are doing everything backwards,” she said.

While Steve stopped Clint from pouring himself any more soda, Bucky smiled at Natasha. “What do you mean?”

Natasha let her head rest on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to get married first, then live together, then have kids. You guys had kids, then Steve and Clint moved in, and you’re getting married last.”

Bucky kissed the top of Natasha’s head. “That’s not backwards, that’s just how we did things,” he said quietly. “I think we did things in just the right order, don’t you, Steve?”

“I sure do,” Steve said, his heart so full of happiness he couldn’t stop from smiling. “I think we’re just perfect.”

“Oh!” said Clint, nearly springing to his feet. “You should get married in a big hall! Where there’s a balcony! And I can stand up on the balcony with my bow and when you do rings, I can shoot the rings down to you tied to an arrow!” He mimed the scene.

“Clint,” Steve began, but Natasha cut him off.

“You can’t shoot arrows at people in a wedding,” she said as scathingly as she could through her sleepiness. “There’s a law.”

Clint slumped back in disappointment.

“Tell you what,” Steve said, hugging Clint. “Me and Bucky are going to talk tomorrow and figure a few things out, then we’re going to plan this wedding as a family, okay?”

“Okay,” Clint said. “Hey, can there be ice cream?”

“There can be ice cream,” Bucky said.

“An ice cream bar,” Steve added, amused by the way Clint’s face lit up. “With all the toppings you can imagine.”

“I want cookies and sprinklers,” Natasha said, already half asleep again. Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance, then Steve set down his glass.

“Thank you guys for coming up here to celebrate with us, but I think it’s bed time again.”

“No,” Natasha protested, trying to blink herself awake. “Just until the fire goes out.”

Since Steve had only put a few small pieces of wood on the cast-iron grate, the fire was already almost out. He exchanged a glance with Bucky, who nodded.

“Okay,” Steve agreed. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Dad,” Clint said once Steve had leaned back in the seat. “Hey, Dad.”

“Yeah?”

Clint curled up against Steve’s shoulder, nearly folding himself in half. He was still a little boy, not even nine years old, but he was already growing tall, long limbs that knocked into everything. With a pang, Steve realized that his baby was going to be a teenager in only a few short years. “Dad, can I be in the wedding too?” Clint asked anxiously. “Girls get to be in weddings all the time, and they get to wear dresses and have flowers. But I wanna be in the wedding too.”

“Don’t you worry about that, buddy.” Steve squeezed Clint’s arm. “You and Natasha are part of the wedding, no matter what we decide to do.”

Clint nodded as if he had just won an argument. “I want a button-ear,” he said. “Can I?”

“A what?”

“A button-ear,” Clint repeated.

Steve finally made the connection. “A boutonnière,” he corrected, knowing that Clint probably wouldn’t pick up the nuance in pronunciation without seeing his lips. “How about you, me and Bucky all have matching ones?”

“But what about Natasha?”

“She’ll probably have a corsage.”

Unexpectedly, Natasha said, “I’m gonna have a big bouquet with all the flowers.”

“Okay,” Clint said. “Dad, what’s a corsage?”

As the fire died down, and as even Clint ran out of questions to ask, Steve and Bucky began to bundle the kids up. Clint was still awake enough to walk on his own, but Natasha was so close to unconsciousness that Steve picked her up and carried her into the house.

Over a whispered conversation about brushing teeth, and how one night probably wouldn’t hurt, Bucky and Steve got Natasha into bed, took her shoes off, and pulled the covers up. Steve ducked into Clint’s room, made him go to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth, then got him into bed.

“I can’t sleep yet,” Clint said, signing at the same time now that there was enough light. “I’m going to make a list of all the things I want to do at the wedding.”

Steve looked at the clock. Past eleven, and the kids had school the next day. He sighed. They’d deal with it in the morning. “Okay, you make your list.” Steve handed Clint a notebook and a pencil from his desk. “Then you turn out the light and go to bed, in ten minutes. Okay?”

Okay. Clint snuggled down into his sheets, pencil at the ready. Shaking his head, Steve left the room.

Bucky was just bringing down the champagne and the glasses from the roof when Steve came into the hallway. “I unplugged the lights and put out the fire,” he said as they headed downstairs. “You know, I never thought about it, but maybe we could make a little rooftop garden up there. I know a guy, he can let me know about the structural integrity of the roof, it’d be a start.”

Steve took the champagne bottle from Bucky. “You’re always so practical.”

Bucky gave Steve a look as he went to put the glasses in the sink, moving carefully so as not to wake the dog. “That’s the second lesson you learn when you’re in a construction family,” he said. “Know how much load the walls can bear.”

“And the first?”

“Never walk around at a work site in bare feet, you’ll step on a nail.” Bucky leaned against the counter. “So.”

“So?”

A smile was playing over Bucky’s lips. “So you want to pour me a little more of the good stuff and we can go sit in the living room?”

Steve jumped to it. In a few minutes, he and Bucky were cuddled up in a corner of the couch, a glass of the sparkling wine between them. All the tension of the day, of his weeks of preparation, slowly eased out of Steve in the quiet stillness.

“Thanks for everything,” Bucky said after a while.

Steve leaned back against Bucky’s chest. “I should be thanking you.”

Bucky put his hand on Steve’s chest. “You give me everything, every day,” he said quietly.

“Well, same.”

Bucky chuckled, the low sound sending delicious vibrations through Steve’s body. “You ever realize that we’re perfect for each other?”

“Yup.” Steve wriggled to the side so he could turn enough to look at Bucky. “What kind of wedding do you want? Big? Small? Inside? Winter wonderland?”

Bucky ran his hand down Steve’s back. “Whaddya mean, big? I only know four people. Five, if you count Nat. We invite all your friends, sure, that’s still like only twenty people.”

“Soon?” Steve asked hopefully.

Bucky made a face, but he said, “Soon. Wouldn’t want you to change your mind.”

Steve looked into Bucky’s eyes. “I’m never going to change my mind about you,” he promised.

Bucky looked at him for a very long time. Finally, he put his hand on the back of Steve’s head and pulled him in for a kiss, just a quick one, before pulling back to whisper, “Do you have any ideas about the honeymoon?”

“A couple,” Steve replied. “Want me to demonstrate?”

“Try me.”

Postscript

The next morning, no one in the household was moving quickly. Bucky had let sleep and taken the dog for a walk on his own, while Steve yawned his way through making coffee and oatmeal. When Bucky got back, he went up to get the children moving while Steve and the dog Lucky stared at each other. “Stay,” Steve said to the stationary golden retriever.

Lucky stayed.

“Good boy.” Steve held out the oatmeal spoon for the dog to lick. “Also, and I’m just putting this out there, we’re not tying the rings to you to walk down the aisle.”

Lucky whuffed before going to his water bowl.

Zombie noises announced the arrival of the children, who were up and in their school clothes, but that was as far as their alertness went. “Who wants oatmeal?” asked Steve cheerily.

“Daaaaad,” Clint whined. Tired, he signed.

“You only have a few days of school left, you can tough it out,” Steve said. Bucky entered the kitchen, his face and hair wet. Steve looked at him in concern. “You fall in the toilet or something?”

Clint gave a snort-gasp-laugh so loud it startled the dog. Natasha made a face. “Boys,” she said witheringly, “Are disgusting.”

Bucky pushed his hair out of his face, the silver of his engagement ring catching the early morning light. “Trying to wake myself up,” he muttered, and slapped Steve on the back as he made a beeline for the coffee machine. “Kids, eat up, we gotta motor.”

Natasha reached for the molasses sugar. “Dad, I had a really weird dream last night,” she said as she spooned sugar onto her cereal.

“Uh huh?”

“Yeah.” Natasha put the sugar jar down. “I dreamed that it was night time and we went up the stairs to the roof and it was Narnia and you and Steve got married and Clint was shooting arrows at you.”

Bucky turned around, coffee in hand. He looked at Steve, at Clint, who was frowning at Natasha, then at his daughter. “Nat, honey, that wasn’t all a dream. Steve asked me to marry him last night.”

There was a moment’s silence, then Natasha let out a screech that nearly shook the windowpanes. “You’re really getting married?” she demanded, voice hypersonic.

“Yup,” Steve said, setting down his mug.

Natasha bounced up from the table, nearly tripped over the dog who had had enough noise and was heading to the living room, crashed into Clint’s chair, and ran with arms outstretched into Steve. He caught her up in a hug. “You’re getting married!” Natasha squealed again, and hugged Steve with all her might.

At the kitchen table, Clint stole Natasha’s oatmeal. Looking back over his shoulder, Steve could see Bucky grinning a wide, happy smile.

They were getting married.

feel free to leave me a comment here or on AO3!

[iamarosegarden]

Better Than That

Part One  - Part Two  - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part NIne -

Ao3

The tag

Whoop this is part seven aka The Ingredients. Enjoy!

Kaz’s gravely voice was unmistakably amused, “My concubine, huh?”

“That’s not the point. I think you should take him up on his offer,” Nina said, shoving the window up further. Inej climbed in and set herself on top of the stone table.

“I assume you mean as an apothecary, not a concubine,” Kaz said dryly.

“She has a point, there’s been an awful lot of sick-beds at the Slate lately,” Inej said as Kaz hauled himself through the window. Nina shut the window behind him after he pulled his cane in.

“I think,” Kaz began, leaning on his cane, “that there are several ways that he could be of use. Give him the ingredients, but tell him I expect a better explanation.”

He had undoubtedly put on a scheming face, but without Jesper to comment on it no one said anything. Kaz didn’t want him to know anything about Wylan, partially because he knew Jesper would get upset about withholding the medicine and partially because of whatever had caused Kaz’s scheming face.

***

Jesper was tired of all this busy work. Kaz kept sending him on runs that anyone could do. Jesper didn’t know why he just knew he was tired of it. Specht was probably tired of it too, considering he had to be Jesper’s babysitter everywhere he went. He hadn’t even been able to swing by Piękni Ludzie to check on Wylan and his sick friend…

He was supposed to be Dirthands’ number two, but Kaz couldn't trust him to walk around and run errands without having someone there to look after him and keep him busy. Specht was next to him, shoving a revolver back into its holster harshly. Jesper winced a bit at the treatment as he slid his pistols back in place, running his thumbs along the handles.

He supposed not everyone cared for their weapons as much as he did, especially if it was something like the piece of shit Specht had to carry around. Honestly, Jesper could shoot anything, but he’d never trade his pistols, or any pistol, for a revolver. Six shots manually loaded with his aim was more than enough, but he found magazines more convenient to carry around.

At the same time, his pistols were handmade by fabricators, which meant they were more than just pretty, they were more efficient, more accurate, he could always trust the bullet would go where he aimed it. With other guns, the bullets -factory made- wouldn’t always be a good fit for the barrel. Sure, it worked, but the bullet knocked around inside the barrel. That did not make for a good shot. It wasn’t bad if you were firing into a crowd, but they didn’t do that often.

In the Dregs you needed accuracy. That’s why Jesper was Kaz’s number two, that’s why Jesper treasured his guns, he could trust them. They were part of the only thing keeping him alive right now. Well, that and his amazing charm.

“Jeez, go easy on that thing. I know it’s a piece of crap but it didn’t do anything to you,” Jesper said, swinging an arm around Specht’s shoulders.

“Made me miss my damn shot‘s what it did,” Specht said, shrugging off his arm and walking ahead.

“Oh, don’t blame that on the gun,” Jesper laughed, jogging to catch up, “you’re just a bad shot.”

“Only compared to you, Jesper,” Specht grumbled, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah man, your talent is wasted on these stupid runs. And so is mine! What is Kaz doing?” he put on a rumbly voice that bared no resemblance to Kaz’s, “ah yes, it’s a great idea to send two of my best men, nay, my two best men, on stupid drug runs and errands.”

Specht looked over at Jesper. “Pretty sure I’m just here to make sure you don’t go to the gambling dens, Jes. So you should probably be wondering why he’s tryina’ to keep you busy.”

Jesper would have said Kaz wasn’t hiding anything from him, except that it made sense. Sure, sometimes Kaz would ignore him and get icy, but that was just Kaz. Jesper had to try his hardest not to let it affect him. And to make sure Kaz didn’t get into those moods because it usually meant Kaz was going to “take a calculated risk” and get himself hurt in order for a “bigger payoff”. But Kaz had never actively pushed Jesper away like this. What was he hiding?

***

The dining room at Piękni Ludzie kind of reminded Nina of the mess hall at Os Alta. It was loud with clinking and clashing and chatting from both the tables and the kitchen but with an underlying unease. At Os Alta, it was the war, but you knew you were somewhat safe at Os Alta. Here it was just life, and you weren’t safe anywhere.

Really, Nina thought as the bag bumped against her hip from where it was tied to her belt, she should give it to Wylan as soon as possible otherwise she’d have to keep braving the glares from him and his pet Fjerdan. She started toward their table, plopping down next to Wylan and grabbing a scone from a platter on the table.

“Hey kiddos, where’s my patient?” she said in greeting, taking a bite of the scone.

“Oh, ya know, sick, in bed, on the verge of being discovered by Misstress Isidore. The usual,” Wylan replied, looking at Conrad across the table. Nina was honestly pretty impressed by how snarky the kid could be when he wasn’t worried or embarrassed, a little less so when it was directed at her.

“Don’t be like that, Wy,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “I got the go ahead from Dirtyhands.”

***

“Okay, so here’s the thing about water hemlock,” Wylan began, bounding up the stairs with Conrad and Nina on his heels. “Liling would have been dead much sooner if we hadn’t been giving her the charcoal, even if it was a watered down version. But now that we have this,” he shook the bag triumphantly as they continued up the stairs and into the hallway. “We can get rid of any traces of the poison with a concoction of items that counters the effects. It might not work. But I think it will. Probably.”

“I mean, what does she have to lose?” Nina said, stepping off the stairs behind them. Wylan didn’t bother turning around to scold her while he opened the door to Liling’s room.

“Will you get the other stuff?” he says to Matthias as he walks over to Liling’s desk, shaking Slava awake from where she was sleeping in the chair before pushing it out of the way. Wylan silently thanked his instincts for making him ask Jesper for this as he dumped the things out on the table. “This would have been better with fresh stuff but this will work, send my thanks to Jesper.”

“Maybe you can thank him yourself some time,” Nina said, slumping against the wall to watch him work.

Wylan didn’t really have room in his head to ponder what she meant by that. “Hey Slava, will you get me a knife from the kitchen or something?” Slava just stands up and opens one of the desk drawers, silently pulling out a knife and handing it to Wylan, who just shook his head before refocusing on the task at hand.

Of course, he had an idea of what he wanted to do with the ingredients. But it was a very, very vague idea. He desperately wished he had the tools to make something better, but right now he just had to prepare everything as best he could and pray. The leaves were pretty dried out…

He suddenly felt very out of depth when Conrad clattered back into the room with the metal plate and cup and lantern. He’d never done this before. Sure, he’d been helping Liling with charcoal but he’d never actually made a cure, an actual remedy before. This was all based on speculation, and even if he was correct these working conditions were not ideal. He ached for cleaner supplies, a cutting board and a mortar and pestle but again grit his teeth and cuts the lemon balm as fine as possible against the table. There was no way this was going to work.

He lit the lantern, told Conrad to fill the cup with water, and started chopping up the astragalus. “Do you have any clothes with mesh in them?” he asked Liling, who pointed to a top resting on the dresser. He peeled back the first layer of cloth and cut out a messy rectangle of mesh with the knife, staining the edges with green from the leaves.

Now the tricky part; he carefully stuck one of the acorns on the tip of the knife before holding it above the fire, waiting for it to catch. When it did he quickly used a hair pin to shove it off the knife and onto the plate. He did the same with two other acorns before so that he had a small bonfire of the three of them going on the plate.

Nina coughed into the crook of her arm and Wylan looked up for the first time in a while to see the room filled with smoke. He gave them all an embarrassed smile. The windows didn’t open so they just had to put up with it till it diluted. Liling was sat up in bed now, Nina having moved to the abandoned chair. Conrad and Slava apparently having gone downstairs so that Mistress Isidore didn’t get more suspicious than she already was. He would have asked what Nina was still doing with them, but one of the acorns let out a pop and he had to spin around and hastily fan out the fire out before they just burnt to ashes. Once they cooled downed he pried them open to add the dried insides to the pile.

He cuts a thin ribbon-sized piece off the shirt and ties the mesh into a makeshift tea bag. Now all they have to do is make the tea. He should probably leave and let Nina do it because he’s sure Mistress Isidore is having a fit. But he can’t force himself to leave, so he just hopes that Marel stepped in for him and continues to focus on the water. It’s nearly at a boil.

***

Watching Wylan work was exhilarating, in a way. Nina watched as he became surer of his actions with each completed step until at the end he handed the steaming cup to Liling with only the smallest traces of doubt on his face.

Liling carefully sipped the tea. “How long until it takes effect?” Nina asked, looking at Wylan, who pursed his lips before speaking.

“It should take about a day, but it will be gradual. Don’t expect to feel better right away.” The last part was directed toward Liling, who nodded and handed him the empty cup. He set it on the desk and turned back to Nina. “Why are you still here?”

Nina stiffened in the chair. “I just wanted to make sure everything went well,” she said. Wylan looked at her like it was a lie, which she could understand, but was still slightly offended. “I suppose I should leave then-

She was cut off. “Wait- actually, you should stay. Mistress Isidore won’t be suspicious if you’re not downstairs, and someone should stay up here in case something goes wrong,” Wylan said it softly like he really wished it wasn’t true, like he was still mad at her.

She smiled at him, “If you insist.”

So she stayed, she stayed until the workday was over, and Slava tried to relive her. She told Slava to get some sleep, and continued to stay, and watched as slowly, very slowly, a healthy flush returned to Liling’s face, and her fever broke, and her heart beat returned to something strong and steady.

[ecotone99]

[SP] Season's Greetings

With a ping the oven timer finished, interrupting the singer crooning on the radio, an old woman appeared in the kitchen drying her hands on a festive apron. Her light grey hair was in a style so old that it had started to come back into fashion and her face and general complexion was one of a doting grandmother. She took two trays out of the oven full of gingerbread, once these were put down more trays of raw cookies appeared in her hands and were put into the oven. The sides in the kitchen were cluttered high with various festive treats both sweat and savoury, every country in the world seemed to be represented. A knock at the front door distracted her from the pastry she was now rolling out, she moved not slowly but with the steady determination of someone who knew that there was no point rushing around in life. Not long before she reached it there was more impatient knocking at the door.

She opened the door onto a woman with straight hair as black as the night, she was wearing a skimpy set of fur lined winter clothes, somewhere between a sexy Santa outfit and ski wear. However, she was bent over supporting an unconscious man, whom was far better dressed.

‘Ah, Halley it’s nice to see you again I was wonder…’ She started before drifting off when she noticed the man.

‘Winny, no time for pleasantry I really need your help.’ Halley said gesturing with the man and without saying anymore she hauled him in through the door. ‘Can you get my bags, please.’

‘What have you done now?’ Winny asked after wheeling through some suitcases and shutting the door.

‘I found him half buried in the snow on my way up here, I don’t think he’s dead yet, but the weather is getting worse and I just didn’t know how much longer he had.’ She answered while repositioning her hold on him.

‘Very well, we will see what we can do, he can go in the downstairs spare room for a start.’ She said as she helped Halley in supporting the man.

‘Thanks.’ Halley breathed as the set off through the log house dragging the man with them.

‘I must ask why your wearing that getup my child its not good for the snow.’

‘Do not start with my clothes.’ Halley said through gritted teeth, in a tone that gave the distinct impression that if Winny wanted any more help moving the man the conversation should change. Instead they continued their journey in silence.

In the spare room they had him laid out on the bed, he was middle aged with dark hair and stubble, but otherwise unremarkable. Winny had produced an antiquated home healthcare book from somewhere and was now consulting it.

‘Right, we need to start by checking his pulse.’ Winny said closing the book and passing it to Halley. She felt around his wrist and neck looking for one. ‘Oh, drat I never was very good at these things.’

‘Why don’t you just check him the other way?’ Halley asked as she started to pace up and down.

‘You know I’d forgotten I could do that.’ She said and now put her hands on his heart and head.

‘How is he?’

‘Hold on. He is still here just very faint.’

‘Can you bring him back?’

‘I’ll try.’

Winny’s hands tensed as she threw her head back. The air in the room became heavy with the scent of mixed spices and alcohol, while the faint tinkling of sleigh bells and the long drawn out note of a choir emanated from her mouth. Her wrinkled skin tightened showing the intricate pattern of veins and arteries, with this they appeared to have some ethereal smoke flowing through them into her hands. Just a quickly as it started it finished and the room returned to normal.

‘That should do it.’ Winny said withdrawing her hands and rubbing her back. ‘Oh, that has set off my sciatica though. I knew that would.’

‘Will he be alright?’

‘I think so, I’d give him a few hours to rest then he should wake up. He reminds me of my late husband you know.’ She said while turning the man’s face around in her hands

‘Honey, every man reminds you of your late or ex-husband. Depending on which one you can decide on. Or on the odd occasion your son, again your memory of him changes with your mood and time of day.’

‘Uh it is getting to close to my season, it comes earlier every year, you know the grip on reality gets weaker the more they focus.’ Said Winny while she rubbed her forehead and turned to leave.

‘I know, but then it is only the 8th of November. Well we will treat this as your last anchorage till January.’ Consoled Halley as she followed Winny out of the room.

Halley joined Winny in the kitchen after changing into a more conservative turtle neck jumper and set of trousers.

‘You look a lot better now, it suits you more than what you were wearing.’ Said Winny looking up from a fish she was preparing.

‘These will end up looking the same by the end of the day. It happens to all my clothes in the end, thankfully in a few weeks it will calm down and take a whole month to ruin them. But it is the curse of my season where everyone seems to feel that women should dress in the most revealing clothes possible that have a scary theme.’

‘We all carry our curses, I just wish they weren’t so visible. Would you like something to eat or drink?’ Winny asked, gesturing to the food with her knife.

‘Umm… do you have anything savoury?’ Halley asked after looking round at the diabetic bed of sugared treats on display.

‘Oh, of course, here have a sausage roll.’ Winny proffered a plate of glazed sausage rolls, that appeared in her hand from thin air. Halley took and ate one whole.

‘OH God,’ Halley moaned after swallowing, she lent on the counter top for support. ‘Winny you are the only person I know who can make savoury food that doesn’t turn sweet in the mouth. I was getting sick of tasting sugar all the time and then the horrifying hint of pumpkin spice’ She shuddered.

‘I know where you’re coming from child. Personally, its chocolate and spirits I get stuck in my throat all the time.’ Winny said, transferring the fish into a tray.

‘Let’s not spend too much time on that topic, we’re here for a break from that. Have you seen anyone else since the last meet up?’ Halley asked.

‘Nobody’s visited me in o five years now.’ Winny said mournfully, she was now putting the fish inside the oven.

‘Oh, my dear you should have got hold of one of us. Me or Eve would have been able to come quickly.’ Halley put a hand on Winny’s shoulder, to provide comfort.

‘Don’t worry child, I go into the town once a week. They think of me as the kind old dear who lives in the mountain.’ While Winny perked her voice up for this her eyes still retained an immutable trace of sadness.

‘I saw Victor in July and Valentine the year before, but I haven’t seen Ray in a while, and I don’t think any of us has actually seen Eve in what must be a decade now. I’m getting very worried about her.’

‘The last I heard from her was that letter she sent out to us a couple of years ago. Maybe one of the others has seen her, we’ll ask them when they arrive, or Eve might turn up herself yet.’ Winny said gathering several plates full of snacks into her arms. ‘Get the napkins would you dear.’ She added as she left the kitchen.

Halley was helping Winny with the laying of cutlery at the dining table when a knock came at the front door again.

‘I’ll get it.’ Said Halley, finishing polishing a sauce spoon. She opened the door to a short man with greying hair. ‘Oh Victor, darling its lovely to see you again.’ She said hugging him and kissing his cheeks, the stench of tobacco and gunpowder poured out of his clothes.

‘Ah, mademoiselle Halley it is a pleasure as always.’ He said with a thick French accent, his breath was rich with rising alcoholic fumes. Halley helped him take his luggage to his room, before looking in on the man in the other spare room.

Winny found them in the Livingroom chatting.

‘Ah, Victor, I don’t suppose you’ve found someone lying half dead in the snow on your way up here too?’ She asked, carrying in more trays of food for the already groaning coffee table.

‘No, but Halley has been telling me all about it. How have you been anyway Winny?’

‘Oh, the same I’ve been keeping to myself you know the usual really and yourself?’

‘Excellently, I’ve had a busy year, my fourth of July was superb and Bastille day oh what a day. But, with the centenary of armistice coming up I am having a busy time in Europe on the whole these days.’

‘Sometimes I’m glad I don’t have some of your calendars. Just one month a year with a small booster in the middle that’s all I’ve needed.’ Winny said before turning to leave the room. There was a knocking at the front door again that made her rotate quickly to answer it.

At the door it was Ray, he appeared the same age as Winny, but he was taller and had a slight tan. There was a small puddle at his feet and drips of water were falling off the eves above him.

‘Winifred, my dear it has been such a long time.’ He said taking Winny’s icy hands and kissing them, his breath was so hot that it would have scolded a normal person.

‘A pleasure as always.’ She purred while his warmth spread pleasingly along her arms. ‘Do come on in and join the rest, at least before you melt anymore snow.’

Winny and ray walked arm in arm into the house, once the door shut behind them the puddle froze so fast that it cracked the porch and the light snow fall outside became a borderline blizzard.

‘I can’t wait to get out of these thick clothes and into my usual shirt and shorts, I’m burning up in here. But you know the perils of traveling incognito.’ Ray said unzipping his coat.

‘I wouldn’t know actually; I never travel that far. Anyway, you’re in my room as usual, all it leaves now is for Valentine and Eve to arrive. I’ll leave you with the others while I get some drinks.’ She said as they reached the Livingroom. As Ray walked in his outfit morphed itself into a Hawaiian t-shirt and cargo shorts.

‘Ray come join us we we’re speculating about the man I found in the snow.’ Halley said.

By the time Winny had returned with drinks, several glasses of wine and a two-litre jug of ice water, the conversation had moved on to Eve.

‘Well when I last saw Valentine, I shared some concerns with him, and he said that he’d check in on her.’ Halley said.

‘Why didn’t you go an visit her?’ Ray asked before taking a swig from the ice water jug.

‘I am now living in New York, I do three jobs a day to cover rent. Unlike the rest of you I can’t just make money appear in my hands all the time. Besides they don’t accept cash in hand these days.’ She ranted after a sip of wine. ‘Sorry that was a bit of pent up rage.’

‘Never mind, I’m sure that Valentine will be here shortly to tell us. Or you never know Eve may turn up before him.’ Victor said.

‘I doubt that.’ Winny started, as her face twisted in concentration. ‘Now that your all here I can sense him walking up the trail now and I can’t feel anymore of us in the area.’

‘Sometimes Winny you really know how to crush someone’s hopes.’ Halley said. ‘And anyway, the rest of you could have visited her yourselves. With the exception of Victor, we all appreciate how busy your calendar is darling.’ Victor gave a brief nod of acknowledgement while both Ray and Winny found other things in the room more deserving of there attention. They sat in a slightly awkward silence till there was another knock at the door.

‘I’d better go and let Valentine in.’ Said Winny.

Waiting for her at the door was a young man who could only be described in attractive terms, his face and build was hard to place but you’d swear you’d seen it modelling some clothes, or something that required him shirtless, or was it in a perfume commercial? Either way he made Winny wish she was back in her 20’s and a tighter dress.

‘Oh. Hi Winny.’ He said nervously but with an endearing cuteness to it. ‘Err can I come in?’

‘Umm…. Of course, yes, Valentine.’ She said after shaking herself out of mentally undressing him. As he walked inside every movement he made was like a great pose that enhanced his features, Winny had to hold herself back from just touching him.

‘Is anyone else here yet?’

‘Yes, everyone apart from Eve.’

‘Ah, I should go and see everyone then.’ He said taking his coat off in doing so a brief glimpse of skin from his torso became visible, Winny found herself twisting her apron with her hands in repression at this. She soon found herself with just the hint of Valentines cologne for company in the hallway.

When he arrived in the Livingroom Halley immediately sat up and made space next to her for Valentine on the sofa, by this point her jumper had gained a low V neck. As he joined her Winny drifted through the door behind him with misty eyes.

‘Winny, eat a mince pie. You’re practically drooling over Valentine.’ Halley said scathingly.

‘Oh, am I? I hadn’t noticed. Sorry dear I’ve gotten so taken up in hosting.’ She said before taking and eating a mince pie.

‘So, Valentine we’re all eager what news do you have of Eve?’ Ray asked.

‘Ah, yes, Eve. You’re not going to like what I’ve got to say.’ He started, anxiously fiddling with his fingers at the same time. ‘I went to her house earlier this year and, and she wasn’t there anymore someone else was living there. So, I asked around the neighbourhood and they said that, that the house had been abandoned, the police went in after she stopped paying her bills and they found it with all her stuff in, but she was missing. They tried looking for her but, without any leads or family and friends to press the issue they’ve given up.’ He finished focusing on his hands, silence engulfed the room.

‘So, should we assume she has dispersed.’ Victor said breaking the silence.

‘I don’t know.’ Valentine said.

‘What was the house like? When they went in.’ Ray asked, his fingers interlaced in thought.

‘Apparently, they found it full of chocolate bunnies and eggs, with a fine layer of dust over everything. Oh, also they found all the plants dead in her garden, like noting was actually growing in the entire property, not even moulds.’

‘Then in that case she has dispersed, that effect wouldn’t have happened from her just leaving.’ Ray concluded.

‘No.’ Said Halley. ‘She can’t have, Eve has always been full of life. She’ll have just gone away somewhere else and forgotten about her house, you know how she is always thinking of the future.’

‘It’s a nice hope but she has never been that absentminded before. She has dispersed, it is curse of being bound to human whim that we must all bare. No doubt she can make her way back though.’ Winny said, with a comforting hand on Halley’s shoulder.

They sat and talked about Eve for quite some time until they we’re interrupted by the man Halley brought in walking into the room.

‘Umm… where am I? What happened?’ The man asked, he lent on the door frame for support while rubbing his eyes.

‘You were found collapsed in the snow on the trail, we’ve taken care of you.’ Said Winny.

‘Thanks, I guess, who are you? I’m Mike by the way.’

‘We are, umm…’ Winny started.

‘Should we tell him the truth or lie? He will be compelled to believe whatever we say.’ Asked Halley, swilling her wine as she did.

‘He’ll forget, they always do after we leave.’ Ray said.

‘Very well then. The truth it is.’ Said Winny. ‘We are the spirts of your festivals or holiday’s if you prefer, personified and err… how do you put it.’

‘Metaphysically created and influenced by human abstract thought and belief.’ Valentine said.

‘Well that is one interpretation of us anyway.’ Said Victor, absentmindedly rolling a cigarette.

‘Wait, wait… I want to not believe you, but I can’t.’ Mike said.

‘That’s the problem when we tell the truth together. And Victor, outside with that my boy.’ Winny said, gesturing sternly finger at Victor. ‘You see, you believe in us and write ourselves so we can turn it on its head when we want.’

‘Urgh, well while this is all fascinating can you direct me back to normal civilisation please.’

‘I don’t think that is happening anytime soon Mike.’ Said Halley nodding towards the window. ‘By the looks of it that blizzard is going to last most of the night. I think one of us will have to walk you down tomorrow. Unless any of you can do anything about it.’

‘I doubt so, not this close to Winny.’ Said ray.

‘I only think I can make it worse, I used a lot to bring him back.’

‘What do you mean bring me back?’

‘You we’re very nearly dead, I only hope I did the job properly, there is a risk you might die of hypothermia in your bed next week.’

‘What? How?’

‘Well we’ll call it our little Christmas miracle.’ Winny said winking at Mike.

‘So, your Christmas then, I was expecting…’

‘A man, with a white beard and a bowl full of jelly for a belly, the whole Santa aesthetic?’ Winny cut across him. ‘Well there is more than just Christmas in Winter my dear. But yes, I’m those festivities.’

‘Then who’s everyone else?’

‘Midsummer.’ Said Ray.

‘Love and friendship.’ Said Valentine.

‘Remembrance and war.’ Said Victor, toasting himself with his wineglass.

‘Halloween and Día de Muertos. But I used to do the Harvest until you lot got rid of seasonal crops and stopped believing in them being brought in.’ Said Halley.

‘Where is Easter then?’ Mike asked, he’d been counting off his fingers.

‘We currently believe that Eve has dispersed or dissipated if you prefer. It can happen to us when there isn’t enough belief to keep us going; and like with Halley and the harvest spring isn’t what it used to be.’ Said Ray sombrely looking into his nearly empty jug of water.

‘How is that even possible, people still celebrate spring and Easter.’ Mike said dumbfounded.

‘Oh, they still celebrate but they don’t believe anymore, they just think that it’s the time when they get chocolate and other treats.’ Winny began. ‘The spirt has left most of our seasons, since time immemorial humanity has held itself close every midwinter to celebrate making it this far and that it isn’t long till spring with warmer days and more food. But now you all buy things and compete with each other over how festive you make everything look and how much food you’ve got. I’m sorry I’ve taken it personally, but it is true for all of us apart from Victor that what once was a communal affair has now become commercial instead.’

‘If we’re lucky we can shift over to something else, very few people observe midsummer with the fervour they used to. Now I have to get what I can out of you all taking holiday’s and tanning by the pool with drinks, I have to live in Australia or the south of Europe just to get the most of it.’ Lamented Ray.

‘At least I had something to move onto, Eve had nothing to transfer to other than becoming a giant chocolate bunny that just shits more chocolate. If she can dissipate what can happen to the rest of us what can happen to me...’ She broke into tears, Valentine put his arms around her and let her sob into his shoulder.

‘Its okay my child, Eve can return. We’ve done it in the past, remember the spread of Christianity? I disappeared for a decade when they came slaughtering through Europe and you, you were gone for some 25 years too.’ Winny said, unsure of if she needed to join in with physically comforting Halley.

‘I don’t really remember that, but then I was in America at the time.’ Said Ray. ‘But then I did have the tricky year when Krakatoa went off.’

‘I think I was in Asia at that time.’ Began Valentine. ‘I only started coming over to Europe more often when Genghis Khan started off.’

‘Ah, now I remember Christianity, all those crusades. Religions have kept me very busy over the millennia.’ Reminisced Victor. Halley had calmed down slightly and was no longer crying, after a brief silence Winny spoke up again.

‘Well if your going to be staying for the night I should sort out a change of clothes for you, I should have something leftover from my husbands, you should be the right size.’ She said whisking him off before he had a chance to object.

‘Ray, can you keep an eye on Winny please, maybe have a word with her tonight. I’m worried that she might try to keep hold of Mike rather than let him go home.’ Halley said.

‘I will see what I can do, but hopefully we can take him down to the town in the morning.’ Said Ray.

‘Maybe we can do it while she’s sorting breakfast or something, so she’s too busy to notice; just in case.’ Said Valentine. Without warning a loud crash and bang erupted from upstairs. Victor jumped in his chair and his eyes started a panicked flickering.

‘Victor! Darling, that was just Winny dropping something upstairs. Alright.’ Said Halley as she firmly gripped his hand and looked reassuringly into his eyes. ‘Why don’t you go and have a smoke outside.’

‘Err… Yes, yes. That sounds like an excellent idea.’ Victor declared getting up to leave.

A while later all of them were sat round the dining table, Eve’s place had been left empty and Mike had had another place prepared for him. Ray stood up at the head of the table, glass in hand to make a toast. He cleared his throat lightly.

‘Assembled sprits and our honoured guest.’ He began gesturing towards Mike. ‘It has been so long since we were last able to meet up together and, in our time apart we have lost our sister Eve.’ He gestured towards the empty chair. ‘And while this is now a sad occasion. We should not be disheartened instead we should use this to strengthen our resolve and look to the future it is what Eve would have done. At these tough times we should do our best to ensure our seasons pass with renewed enthusiasm and passion. Reminding the people that we are still a key part of their lives, we bind their families, and friends. We provide them with rest, with hope, with enjoyment, and with routine. So, with that I look forward to our next few days together with some sense of relief for the rest and company of my fellows. I think however it is appropriate to spend the rest of this evening thinking of our friend who is no longer with us. To Eve.’

‘Eve.’ The group toasted around the table.

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